Thank you for allowing the silence, for not taking offence at my decision to crawl under a rock and choose obscurity.
Thank you for understanding even though your emails got no reply and your text messages got no response and your online chats encountered nothing more than a blank screen.
It’s just the words are not there. They are no where to be found. And I am afraid to substitute them with tears – because if I start crying I don’t know how I would stop.
To grieve for a thing that died a slow and maddening death is hard to do… because it is hurt piled upon hurt and mostly regret stuffed into more regrets.
Thank you for allowing the silence; for knowing something’s wrong and waiting for me to say it out loud.
Thank you for not pushing it, for not pelting me with questions about ‘what’s the matter’ because you know I know where to find you when I am ready to talk.
Thank you for letting me keep it all inside because if I let it out it becomes real, overwhelming and out of my control.
Thank you for picking up your phone at the very first ring, even though your own calls went unanswered and the voicemail messages you left were ignored.
Thank you for waiting until I was ready to say the words out loud. To say it to myself and admit it to you too.
To say, “It mattered and I lost it. It mattered and now its gone. And the loss is more horrible because it died long before I could bring myself to accept that it was no more.”
And now I grieve over the carcass of what once was, and mourn over the skeleton of what could have been and words fail me.
So I let the silence fill this space – there are no words, I cannot find them.
So thank you for allowing the silence.