Silence - Another aspect of ME

Last night was one of those times I often ramble and write. But I didn’t feel like writing, I didn’t know what to say. Sometimes I don’t know what to think let alone why I’m thinking it. There is something about that time of night when everyone else is asleep, you’ve gotten home in one piece and had dinner, and the day seems like an age ago. It clears my mind to think beyond the last 24 hours and the next 24 to come.

Lately I’ve been really unsettled and not quite sure why. Ideally (because we all imagine what our ideal selves would do) I would sit myself down and have a heart to heart about what I’m scared of, too scared of to even say, and what I should do to fix it, hide it, or forget about it. But I haven’t done that, I’m not sure why. Possibly, because it’s one of those things so ingrained in me that it’s easier to not think about it and pretend it will go away.

So last night, I felt lonely, in my own way. Being needy is something I hate and I’m scared of. It makes me agitated. It’s like I’m looking and waiting for something and not really knowing what, but deep down inside, I know what it is, I’m just too scared to say it. As I sat there and talked to a friend on the other side of the world, I found myself asking him for answers to my questions. Using him, in my own way, as a sounding board, a chance to write what I am thinking at the moment.

I pour my soul out to the internet. I sit here and tell people things I’ve never told my friends. I’ve made friends so close, talked for 10 hours straight, heard intimate secrets. At that moment, I feel closer to that person than anyone else. It is funny how thoughts form in your head, but sound so different when they manage to escape.

When I was younger, friends were the type to come and go, and though you may grow close, the relationships ebb and flow, sometimes, I don’t really know them and sometimes they don’t know me.

With these people in our lives, for a moment, we can completely understand each other. But I harbor the knowledge that tomorrow, we will change, move on, be different and that closeness will be lost. Is it possible to find someone as committed to changing with me as I am to them? I don’t really know, but I suppose I’ll keep my eye out.

I had all these things to say, but no words to say them. Last night, words left me and I fluttered through ideas and words with seemingly no meaning. In fact, having enjoyed many discussions among friends, people who have read what I write always say I write better than I talk. Maybe my brain is just slow and I need to collect my words in order to sound witty. Or maybe it’s because when I sit there in front of someone in real time, a million thoughts go through my mind, censoring, altering, predicting. Here, I say everything I need to, erase anything I don’t, and serve it up as a single course.

I’m going to think about what needs to be thought, for the benefit of my sanity. Maybe I will let you know when I sort it out. But that’s exactly what I’m stuck on. Why do I feel like I need to sort things out alone?