The weight of words.

"He who promises easily will be a heavy burden to him who takes his word seriously."

There was a man who grew up thinking that words were not sounds, but weights.

If he said them, he put them on the table.

If he promised, he had already worked on them.

If he nodded, he didn't count them back.

One day someone told him:

- It's yours. I'll tell you. I'll take care of it. Don't worry.

He believed them.

Not because he was stupid, but because that's how he was built.

He told others in advance, he made room, he put things in order, he already took responsibility in his head.

When they told him:

- It's solved.

he didn't get angry.

But he was quiet.

Because he realized something:

the loser is not the one who loses an opportunity, but the one who loses the trust in his word.

He went home.

He helped someone else on the side of the road.

He didn't count. He didn't weigh.

Because what's inside is not negotiable.

He got up the next day the same way.

But he did one thing differently:

he no longer gave credit where the word was easy.

And although there were fewer people left around him, the silence became clearer.

His space for maneuver is narrower - but truer.

Because those who take the word seriously have fewer paths, but they don't collapse under them.

The word is not a sound. The word is a decision.

And I am still straightforward in my decisions.