Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Six Months of Silence

Hello? Hello blog fans. Are you out there? It is me - Sierra. I have returned from my six months of silence. I have left you for a while and have missed you. I hope you will allow me back into your virtual world. I’m back - with a vengeance.

A man took me away. He stole me, stole my heart, stole my attention, stole my time. And I loved every second of it. Well that is an exaggeration.  I loved about 90% about it. I will share with you what I loved and what drove me into a pit of misery but I shall keep it brief because really, who is interested in the past when they present is so damn juicy? So let’s just get the history summarised and submitted and hope it is not to be repeated.

Dear Neighbour, these are the things I will forever remember and cherish about our time together:

  • -          How the first thing you gave me was thai basil from your garden and a giant chilli for stir frying.
  • -          The time you woke me up with a full breakfast with honeyed coffee with oat milk and crumbed wooded mushrooms
  • -          When I caught you running across the carpark with a big bunch of flowers to hide on the passenger car seat
  • -          How we raced into the Queensland ocean together, freezing and shaking but loving how the waves crashed upon us
  • -          Scouring second-hand shops and vintage sales for ugly jumpers and strangely printed vests
  • -          How you used to touch my hand when we were in restaurants, almost as a way of ensuring that I was there and I was real.

But these moments faded and we never really clicked. Tension seemed the norm and it put me on edge. I was also waiting for the next criticism, the next time I would say the wrong thing and you would snap. And I know you didn’t mean it, that it was just how you expressed yourself. I know you never meant to hurt me. Yet your biting words cut deep and your silence cut even deeper.

 I made the calls, sent the texts, organised the catchups and you slowly rose to the occasion. Yet when others asked you out, you jumped at their bait. I felt like I was chasing a hare down a hole and watching as it continually slipped through my fingers. For you, this demonstrated how comfortable you were, how much you felt at ease. For me, it was a disappearance, a disconnection, something lost and nothing found. For me it was the end.

Sierra x