No.

There is a lot that I don’t want to give up, most of all the luxury of disappearing when I want to. Sometimes, I want to cut off and shut down and curl up in the corner between the headboard and the wall and pretend that the world does not extend beyond the hypotenuse formed by my folded legs.

You won’t understand.

I don’t like to be touched when I’m upset. I build a wall around myself and feel like screaming at the touch of somebody trying to comfort me. I don’t want to be comforted. I want to be left alone, to dissect my pain to see what it is made of and become familiar with it- to convince myself that the fragments of my agony are nothing to be afraid of.

You won’t understand that.

There are times when I don’t want to speak. The effort of choosing words to string together seems like a difficult conquest. I want to exist in the comfortable silence of those who have said enough and do not recoil from the end of conversations. I want our silences to be enough. I don’t want to need words.

You, with your frantic need to pour words into the spaces between lines, won’t understand.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “No.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s