Some things you wanted to say out loud but couldn’t find the courage to do so. It’s not that nobody would care to listen, there are some who will, if you’re lucky enough to have them, some call them friends, I heard.

It’s not that you don’t want to, honestly. There are times it’s in the tip of your tongue, something you would like to spit out but your lips don’t cooperate. You tried to open your mouth but words won’t come out.

Here’s the thing, you wanted to tell someone, something that’s bugging you but wanting to speak about it is the very thing that’s bugging you, if that makes sense.

I know you’ve heard it, “I’m here to listen.” “You can tell me about it.” But here’s another thing, after that then what’s next? Would it be awkward or will you try to counter it with jokes, that you don’t even find funny in the first place just to mask the awkwardness you’re feeling, and would it be judgment in the long run?

Or do they even care at all, like they say they do, but just said it out of courtesy called friendship?
Some are up to listen, some just got nothing to say, and there’s you not knowing the difference.
You know it’s not good thinking about it, but you just can’t help it.

It’ not that you don’t want to tell about it, really. It’s how you get out of there in the prison called memories that’s bothering you.
For reliving it means you may have to experience it all over again. The pain. And whole lot of tears. And many more you cannot possibly put into words. It’s the risk you don’t want take, it leaves a bitter taste on your mouth.

On rare days you tried to, very subtle it is but you did, but you couldn’t find enough warmth, sincerity that you want to find or it’s just in your head.

What could they possibly say that will ease the pain, would it ever.

Or there are days you really tried saying one of it but then it’s a three year old problem and some are sick to hear it, really, you can literally feel it in your bones.

Some people are like that you know, some can’t let it go but you should know they’ve tried to, some nights it killed them, some nights it’s the thing that made them still breathing up to this date.

Or maybe it’s two decades long one but still as fresh as if it happened yesterday and you just can’t find it in your heart to say it, because you remembered it broke you ten thousand times before and tapping the lid that’s been closed for a long, long time sure sound nasty, it’ll drown you in mere seconds and that sure looks a lot like taking your own life.

You’ve got some issues there, still unresolved and may be you wanted to keep it that way. You know, someone trying to fill the void and yet not wanting to at the same time, because sometimes being broken is something that makes you human, you can actually feel.

And up until now you’re still running in circles. Some days you say you’re over it. Some days you say, damn, you can’t forget it.
In this society where almost everyone wants to speak and put cents on things they passionately want to talk about sometimes you wonder how many are willing to listen, still listening and will keep on listening?

Someone is drowning, I heard they're crying for help. Sometimes it’s loud but most of the time it’s quiet, so quiet that you don't even notice.
Do you?

Would someone be there?
To listen, at least.


© euphemia

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