My silence is screaming at you.
I love you, but you’re still talking. Talking at me. Talking through me. Talking about me.
I know exactly what you’re trying to do. I lived with the devil; I learned to see through the smoke screen. You’re no master.
You look at me, and see a broken woman. A victim. A recluse trapped in her past.
The solution? Social outings. Cheering up. Letting me know you understand.
I refuse to move on. It’s not a solution. It’s an escape.
You want me to take a scalpel to my history. Remove the tumor that you see. I can return to normal; the me that existed before he ruined everything.
That’s how you think this works.
Stop giving credit to him for the woman I’ve become. He wasn’t a cancer. He didn’t ruin me. I’m not a victim. Nor am I a survivor.
I didn’t stop becoming my own person when he entered my life. He didn’t make me a generic statistic. I’m not a label.
I am hurting. In ways I don’t even know, let alone understand. Don’t tell me you know how I feel. In fact, don’t tell me anything.
I have questions. They won’t make any sense to you.
I have doubts. They will seem ridiculous to you.
I have fears. Fears that would scare you.
I am not broken because he changed me, and changing back won’t fix me.
This. Right here. Right now. This confused, stubborn, quiet woman is who I am. Your cheering up missions won’t change that. It’s not that I quit enjoying life. I just enjoy it differently.
I enjoy solitude. Depth. Honest truths. Beautiful details. Harsh realities.
I have developed a compassion you cannot comprehend. You believe you’re the one in the position to understand. Yet, that’s what proves you don’t.
I still love you. I love that you try. I love that you’re still here. I’m not angry, I’m just tired of being alone in my realization of who I am.
Please listen. Stop talking, and listen. I am waiting for you to be strong. I want you to know it will hurt you. It will be ugly. I have learned a raw honesty, and you will have questions. Questions you never considered to be unknowns.
I will not chase you. I will not force you. I will not manipulate you. Come to me only when you’re ready; when you’re ready to accept that who I’ve become is not the result of damage.
Until then, I will wait.
*What is your silence saying? Comment below.