The silence woke her, it was never this quiet, where did it all go? Suddenly her surrounding is silent but the voices in her head too loud.
The many faces, the many voices, the endless places and adventures all gone. All she has now is silence and it drives her insane.
Startled, she rose from her mid day gaze at the television, something she once loved, how is it that the silence is so loud that she can’t even hear her favorite show….
Staring into nothingness wondering at what point she lost herself in this manner. Was it the time she prioritized her child (put her before herself)?, No can’t be it, what mother would ever admit to loosing herself to her child. It’s what parenting is ….right? Their happiness and comfort before your own. That cannot be it….can it?
Maybe it’s when she packed her entire life, which surprisingly fit two suitcases and crossed rivers, crossed county boundaries , passed wildlife along the way all in efforts to be with her one true love, what else matters when you are to be with your “ever after”?, isn’t that the essence of life? (How is it that in this nothingness not even that picture seems worthwhile). Then again, that cannot be the point she lost herself, that was the point of clarity, where all the past was just that, the past, she was with whom she was meant to be with, the point she found herself for sure, or maybe she lost herself to a picture perfect forever, a picture.
It’s possible she lost herself trying to fit in, in these foreign waters. Foreign place with foreign practices and a clear urge to not stand out.
Maybe she wasn’t meant to fit in but stand out. This is her place now, she had to fit in, while struggling to, a lot went silent, her friends slowly became distant whispers , family became a place she showed how well she was , her will for adventure became the wishes of a child, the house that was meant to be a home became her prison.
Everything is quiet everything except the prisoner in her mind. It is not clear at what point everything went silent, one this is clear though, the silence is too loud and it has woken her. Maybe tomorrow the voices will quiet down and she will regain herself.
Maybe tomorrow she will remember how it was, what it felt like to be alive, when words flowed freely, when writing wasn’t an escape rather an experience with every article, when a drink was to pass time with friends and not pass time so she isn’t too into her mind. Her mind is a dark place, a place she cannot bare be in alone, maybe tomorrow she will find the will to pick herself up from the trenches of her mind, put on a floral dress, red lipstick and comfy flip-flops, and just walk out the door.
The world is receptive, lock yourself in and it will all pass you by, open the door, smell the dust, take in the noise from all the buzz of activities around, the first step is getting ready, somewhere along the way , she will know where to go and how to get there. Well, finding a new spot to sit and stare at the laptop wondering how to write might just be her new beginning and free wifi never hurt anyone…..
Waiter: What will you be having?
Her: whiskey, neat.
And so it begins…