Hiralious

Love became routine, silence became my habit , an emptiness took place between us as we lay on the bed each night. I would look away when he looked at me, I would move away if he came too close too soon, i would orchestrate this dance, this tug that was a tease in the start. Now it became in your eyes, my avoidance and I let you keep this verdict. I had no will to defy it. It may have been a destructive sort of self-defense but it was the only  one I had.
But the ice that we accumulate over our burning hurt can only stay unbroken for so long. There will come an ember of accusation, a word that is ill thought on your part and it will all come pouring out, like hot molten lava, uncontrollable and mighty. I would shake with rage , with hurt. I would scream until all those examples of self-restraint and patience  i have put up over the past few months would be entirely futile. The venom in your words would shake me to the core. You'd say I always do this. That you are sick of the fights. And I, who had been on a sacred vigil of patience. I, who sometimes drifted in trance of meditative love, I who had been waiting for you silently will feel scorned. Like it was all for nothing. Invalidated , I would stand there. A threat burning the tip of my tongue. 'I would leave you'. I'd say and I would storm out. At least that will snap you out of this reverie. But like all things, it can only happen a number of times until it stops working too. And the door that I slammed in your face, and actually in the face of my longing to cross that distance of a few feet between us, stays closed. And so i learn. learn to be patient , learn to let this threat burn a hole in the tip of my tongue next time. I learn to be quiet until it becomes a habit. And I have only one problem. Why don't you see I am quiet?  Would you not notice if I lost an arm? Would you blame me for the missing limb? Is my quietness not a downgrade from the real me you knew. Then why is my quietness a disgrace to you? Why do people ever become quiet?  It is the most feeble form of protest. It's a fight , in limbo. It is a period of waiting. of anticipation.There are no layers to it. Its a thin disguise that through its foreignness, demands to be shed.
If somebody you love is unnaturally quiet. Hug them, kiss them and love them a lot. They will open up like a bud that blooms into a flower. You will see the flush of life in their cheeks again. They will share their dreams and fears with you. Sometimes in doing nothing, you do a lot. If somebody you love is quiet, it is the time to cross the distance in a stride. Because silence is not revenge. It is forfeit. It's an invitation for you to reach the core of the person again, through the simple pathway of loving, sharing and spending time with them. Of course, if you want to.