And then there is the silence again. It is hard to sit with it. Now. Or is that just me? I wasn’t this person…once upon a time ago.
I used to love nothing more than sitting with the peace of my silence.
But the silence, once my friend, has somehow become a stranger to me.
Recently. I have been drowning something out, though I am not sure what that may be.
I probably wouldn’t remember. Because mostly I don’t remember. Who I used to be, or how things really were.
Or how it felt to get here.
I don’t want to be anywhere…or anyone else. But still…there is not the ease there once was, when we once were.
Does it all boil down to BD. And AD?
I used to be someone BD; someone else. Everything was very different then.
I like this me more, the AD me, though I can’t really remember who she – BD – used to be. Is that the way it is supposed to be?
Now, there is only now, and it’s like a passing cloud; everything else around it fades then disappears, as if it never really existed at all.
Who was I the day before that first call? And who was I when I came back to London? And when I was in Iran? And before I got on a plane from home to go back home?
Every one of those moments led to this moment; so important; yet so insignificant. All fading in to one distant cloud of non-existence.
And really, it is not the silence that is the problem, but all the noise there is when I finally switch off all the noise. So I switch off my thoughts, but I don’t like the uneasy silence that is left with me; taunting me; it is a stranger to me.
I like the silence of before; when I would smile and sit. When silence was my friend and not my foe.
And I can hear it telling me, I never left; you are the one that abandoned me.
But yet somehow, I drown it out with the sound of a gushing waterfall of noise. And I’ve stood there watching the noise fall. On my deaf ears.
And there’s something in the silence that can make time stand still or time pass by.
And you can fill the time up. It’s easy to do.
It’s what most of us do.
So, now. I’m trying to undo, this thing that has become so easy to do.
I’m longing for the silence, that will unravel…when I finally do.