Involuntary Silence

For the first time ever I think that my days are harder than my nights.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that I had gotten used to sleeping in the middle of my queen sized bed long before you actually left, only being joined by your presence when my phone lite up my entire bedroom and one last text came through for the night.

Or maybe it has to do with the fact that my doctor has prescribed an entire bottle of little pink sleeping aids, and yet he has never once offered a prescription on how to deal with the overwhelming amount of raw emotion when the sun is shinning.

But, I think it has more to do with the fact that sometimes your ghost still joins me in my dreams and for a few uninterrupted hours my subconscious does everything in its power to give my heart a few moments of peace.

For a few minutes I get to relive our happiest times – I get to see your smile – I get to hold your hand and watch you walk through doors towards me, instead of you walking away as they slam shut.

And suddenly, against my wishes – even my own body has betrayed me in your absence. Like somehow it’s easier to blame myself than to place blame on the one who walked away without a second glance at the mess he made.

After days of tears that have felt like fire running down my face and screaming that escaped from the deepest and most vulnerable places of me – my body is finally accepting what you’ve been pushing since the day our paths first ever crossed… silence.

For the first time ever my lips didn’t breathe a whimper. My tears didn’t make a sound as they ran like flooding highways down my cheeks and hit the floor with so much force they could cause earth quakes.

For the first time in history my body stopped crying out to you with a thousand phone calls and a million screaming nerves.

Now, since you left, I’ve finally found a way to embrace the silent mess that you’ve made… just like you always wanted… even if you aren’t here to see how muted I have finally become.

And, After 3 years of begging for conversation, even I think it is ironic that silence was the thing to kill us. 

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