Maybe it’s just the amount of stress I’ve encountered for the past couple of days, maybe it’s just my anxious mind trying to play tricks on me again but I’m noticing things I don’t want to notice. Talk to me, I want to say but something inside me tries to convince me there’s nothing worth saying. The words grow thick on my tongue and press against the back of my throat.
Instead I sit silently and stew over nothing, replaying conversations from therapy sessions a few months back. He wants to know these things. No matter how crazy they sound, it’s better than not knowing at all. But I know I won’t say them. I’ll hold the words in my mouth and chew over them and turn them around and around, all the while making myself more and more anxious and angry. The air grows thick- too thick to breathe evenly.
He’s asked me three times in the past hour what’s wrong and each time I’ve responded with Nothing. I know he has noticed the change, I’ve never been very good at hiding it, nor do I particularly care to try. But still I will not voice it. It doesn’t matter. Not enough to exert the energy- physical and emotional- to use my voice. Besides, now I’m beyond wheezing and I just know I’ll faint at any moment.
It’s not a game, I’m not trying to make him chase me. I have trust issues and don’t feel that my words are safe in just anybody’s hands. Here I can vent freely because I have seen peeks into the souls of those whose words I read and while we are all very different, many of us are very much alike. It’s soothing, a comfort to know that I can marinate in the lives of people who don’t pretend it is something that it’s not. The honesty is so refreshing, not just the happiness but even the pain and anger and sadness because it was written with intense emotion sometimes in the heat if the moment and those are the moments that mean so much to me. And while I read and try to convince myself everything is as it should be, I realize I’m still holding my breath and patiently waiting for the moment when I can exhale.