And then, just like that, I realized, I was being silent most of the times, that I didn’t have much to say anymore. Although I was very elaborate in talking to myself, I did, in fact, have something to say. I had a lot to say, but it was all pointless. Pointless, in the meaning […]
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Silent Night

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And then, just like that, I realized, I was being silent most of the times, that I didn’t have much to say anymore. Although I was very elaborate in talking to myself, I did, in fact, have something to say. I had a lot to say, but it was all pointless. Pointless, in the meaning that whatever I had in mind, or felt deep within my heart would not resonate with anybody around me. I couldn’t talk to anyone about what was happening to me, not that it was shameful or caused disdain, but I was sure that no one would understand. How would they, when even I, couldn’t follow its track? I was blabbering to myself, with my self, about it all.

Just because I’m not sad or traumatized does not mean I’m happy, it doesn’t mean that I’m closer to happiness than others. As we grow up, we are all taught that we should always be thankful, because somewhere in the world, another child would dream to have half of what we get, they teach us that being thankful doesn’t only apply to goods and fortune, but to feelings and behaviors as well. So we learn to settle for less, we learn to accept less compassion, because somewhere around the world another is being bullied. We learn to accept less love, because in a dark corner of the city a man is hitting his wife. But I’m done settling for less, I’m done being thankful.

But him! he┬ákeeps telling me that it scares the shit out of him how silent I could get, that I roam to the poles and back in my mind, that he can’t handle me not being able to talk to him about what’s troubling me. Thing is, I can’t tell what’s troubling me because the reason I’m troubled in the first place is HIM, Mr I care about you but I’m too fucked up so please become as emotionally unbalanced as I could get and deal with it.

I thought I could, deal with it, but I was wrong. I am no super woman, I can not tolerate half of the things he’s done or said in the last year, I have aged a decade in this past twelve months. I have become an incurable, old, rusty soul. I lost all my shine and glitter, all energy, all glory. I cannot bear to talk anymore, I am alone amidst the hugest of crowds, I am lost, melancholic and empty. All of the words, conversations, small talk, does not matter anymore, because I cannot let out what I want to say most. I cannot tell him how I truly feel about him, how I hate myself for being with him still, how I’m betraying myself for not keeping it logical, all because I don’t think I can make it without him any longer.

All other talk is pointless, until I tell him.

He calls, I answer, run to see him as fast as I could, “Next time he asks to listen to the thing that burdens me I’ll tell him”, I think to myself, “There’s always next time” I repeat after every encounter.

You see.. All other talk is really pointless.. So I’m silent, still.

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