“What are you afraid of?”
A question that is a half-hearted attempt to keep the almost dying conversation going, but elicits emotions so raw, and undoes essential parts of your self. It reminds you of the broken promises, sick twists of fate, gargled words that you wish you had said then.
I’m afraid of moving on, mostly because I haven’t had to before. How do I pack eighteen years of my life and tote them away? I already have three suitcases packed with clothes, picture frames and basically anything and everything that will remind me of home. How does it make sense to leave behind friends who have made it easier for me to come into my own? Friends with whom I’ve fought only to realise later that our bond was not something tangible which would snap to never be sealed with the duct tape of a corny joke.
I’m afraid of the collars that chafe my neck when I clear my throat to say something in protest. Every time I undo a button I only come to terms with how little plastic circles can be symbolic of a rebellion. Societal expectations are becoming modern corsets and I’m afraid of how they’re shrinking waists and squeezing minds with the power of suggestion and unattainable perfection.
I’m afraid that I shall leave the world, only having scratched the very surface of my potential. I might fall to the floor, stop breathing and be buried in a secluded corner of a Midwestern graveyard before getting every thought in my chaotic mind on paper. I may not be able to put each one who has impacted me on paper; I’ll go away with half-formed, missing persons in my chest. People who I didn’t  get a chance to know better, who are etched in my faint memory as fingerprints on bathroom faucets, strands of hair on the carpet and stains on the table where they forgot to use coasters.
But those subjects are far too heavy for meaningless small talk.
So I’ll be polite and just stick to “Heights”.



9 thoughts on “Unspoken

  1. This makes one curious. Why are you leaving, don’t have to answer, might be personal. But yes you are so right about this subject. My exwife told me, you don’t love me, you want us to stay together because you’re afraid of change. Ironic, but she’s the one who attempted to get back with me after I tried to stop her from leaving. I woudl not take her back. I don’t like people who choose convenient situations. Well as to this thing which you have composed, it is beautiful. Very sad. Heights, I took to mean, the best memories? I suppose that I’ve been away from your blog for so long that forgot the measure of your talent. You’re good. What a piece. I cannot praise it enough, and trust me most bloggers don’t have it in them to praise another blogger appropriately.

    Liked by 3 people

    • I’ll be leaving for college in a few days and that has gotten my family and my friends as well very emotional. That paragraph was inspired by their emotions.
      Personally, even I don’t like people who choose to leave when it is convenient for them, while leaving us hanging awkwardly.
      And thank you so very much!! I have been away from my blog for so long; a terrible mother to it, I guess. I wish I could blame it on a writer’s block but I just didn’t seem to be able to find the time. I hope you continue to read my work πŸ™‚

      Liked by 3 people

      • You can count on it dear, of course don’t allow your school obligations to suffer for the upkeep of the blog. But I promise to look in on the blog. I hope you are doing this venture, as a wholehearted wish, College, I mean. And yes, of course financial necessity often, is the pursuit for education. But perhaps I read too much into this, a heavy heart, and that bothers me, but yes, sometimes we don’t have a choice. Thanks for sharing, sincerely appreciate you willingness to share. I will pray for you.

        Liked by 1 person

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