The deeper
hurt
is
not
being
lied to
It is
desperately
wanting
to
believe
that
which I
know
to be
a
lie.
Sometimes
I
break
my own heart.
the best
friends
are
not the
ones
who
love
us
because of
who we
are
they are
the
ones
who
love us
in spite
of
it.
The lies we tell ourselves can be more honest than the truth we cling to when they are whispered to us in dreams.
Sometimes, silence is all there is. Either I have nothing in my head or I lack the energy to form any kind of coherent response.
Sometimes, the silence is me filling up, taking everything you say in like water filling a pail. It will eventually overflow my own words mixing with yours pouring forth.
Sometimes, you fall silent and we sit two thousand miles apart each in our own world and we share the quiet.
I like the quiet.
I like the silence.
The space between the words cements us as friends, companions. Each able to just be in each other’s company with no intent or purpose.
Sometimes, it is just nicer to be silent together than apart.
