Hush-a-Bye Baby

Shh.


Listen.

...

Do you hear that?

...

Silence.

Friendly-turned-silent conversations, going on between us.

You, I know, are hurting. You, I know, are regretting. You, I know, are thinking.
You, I don't know what to say to.
How do I help you? What can I say to you? Something so friendly, so jovial, so innocent, now turned guilty, scarred, sinful.
When did it all change?

No longer are our conversations light and carefree, innocently, blissfully, ignorantly childlike. They have matured, carrying with them the conscious weight of guilt, of drama, of knowledge.

So what can I say to you?

To be honest, I fear hurting you. I fear saying things that will remind you, will reproach you, will turn you further away from me.

So all I can do now is offer you my silence, and hope my screaming message is somehow delivered through there.

...

Hush.

Listen again.

Closely now...

...

What is it?

Something that has always been there, a sound that hasn't stopped sounding since even before you drew your first breath.
A sound we often take for granted, often forget.

A heartbeat.
Your heartbeat.
My heartbeat.

Did you know that the average teenage heart beats 75 times a minute?
For 442 days, my existence was defined by your presence. For 10608 hours, I was by your side. For 636480 minutes, I took my every breath with yours.
My heart beat with yours, 47736000 times.

And yet, it took less than half that time to forget you.
All it took was distance.
All it took was absence.
All it took was silence.

I realize now.

How powerful silence can be.