My Writing. My World.
“Sometimes when you are quiet, it feels loud to me,” my friend messaged.
That comment from a week or two ago has stuck with me.
Even though I still haven’t responded to the message.
Even in my ongoing silence.
A silence not meant to keep others out, but to protect what is left within.
To guard the little that remains.
Keeping myself safe because it no longer feels safe anywhere.
There comes a point in life when the loss can seem just too unbearable.
A teenager who loses their group of best friends to the social wars of high school, a dear friend to suicide, and perhaps a bit of themselves while navigating the world at large…and then a fucking pandemic on top of it all.
Please stay.
I know I’ve been focused on my everyday heartbreak, but suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore.
You are all that matters.
You are all I want.
I want you in my life.
I need you in my life.
I couldn’t bear to lose you now.
My heart has been questioning a lot lately.
Questioning what was real and what was just an illusion.
I’ve been divorced for almost two years and it makes me so sad that I question every single one of the 25 years of memories I shared with my ex-husband.
My heart is opening again.
I can feel it.
Even after a heavy-ish, wonky day.
One in which I was unsure and unsteady and unnerved.
But now…opening.
Even after these last few months.
Even after this last year.
And three years of darkness.
And a decade before that of processing and knowing and struggling and debating and denying and staying and slowly breaking through.
My heart, skipping precious beats all day.
Tapping in, I hold her and try to decipher her code.
Is she feeling the delicious anticipation of something new?
The lingering sadness that comes with letting go of the old?
Something more dark than I am ready to face again? Still.
