Sometimes When You Are Quiet, It Feels Loud To Me
“Sometimes when you are quiet, it feels loud to me,” my friend messaged.
That comment from a week or two ago has stuck with me.
Even though I still haven’t responded to the message.
Even in my ongoing silence.
A silence not meant to keep others out, but to protect what is left within.
To guard the little that remains.
Keeping myself safe because it no longer feels safe anywhere.
Not here.
Or here.
Or even here…where I have always felt safe.
Any safety I feel now seems like a safe space that only I can create. Only I can provide. (Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be…I don’t know…)
But my quiet feels loud to me, too.
Yet, overdue.
And necessary.
Those words from my friend’s message immediately came to mind last night when I was startled awake by sudden silence.
The complete and utter quiet that comes with a power outage. When nothing is humming in the background. No constant murmur of air conditioning or appliances…just the eerie quiet of nothingness.
