Silence. It is a tricky thing.
Sometimes the silence is welcome… a soothing calm, floating on gentle waves.
Other times, the silence is a soundless scream, falling into the abyss. That silence will overwhelm, that silence will hold you down and control you. That silence will squeeze your heart, restrict your blood flow, all the while pretending to make you strong.
Today, I broke it. Twenty three years is all it took, and I just up and decided that I cannot grow anymore if I am bound by the tortuous silence. So, I did what any person would do…I wrote it down. The basic, dirty, painful, unfair details went on the paper. I did not cry – there are no tears left for this. I wrote it as best I could remember, trying not to embellish or warp, as the years can sometimes do. This traumatic, life-altering event that sent me down a rotten path took up about 3 and a half pages. Three and a half pages that have taunted me for years…how are there not more?
So, I wrote this thing that I have never told anyone and I asked my Husband/Sir to please read it…and then destroy it. He did. He was sad, I didn’t want that. I just needed to let it go because I have to be done with it. Suddenly, I could not shoulder it alone for one more second.
Maybe that wasn’t fair to my Sir…maybe I should have taken it to the grave. No. I did the right thing. I know this because today I’ve been floating on air and for the first time I can remember, my shoulders have no knots.
It is a tricky thing, that silence. I finally found my voice and put that 13 year-old girl out of her misery. Bring on the noise!