Silence

Like a breath of air I hold inside

Pretend that everything’s OK

There’s nothing to hide

If I keep believing the lie, someday it may be true

Keeping running around in circles that’s all I seem to do

Smile to the world—play it like I don’t really care

Again, denying the truth—was it ever really there?

I flash another fake smile

But turn away with a tear

Voices screaming inside, secrets you’ll never hear

Turning into darkness, pretending its light

Celebrate the victory

When I really lost the fight

Had everything tied up in the palm of my hand

But it slipped away before I could ever understand

Held hostage by my fear, I gently let it go

Mourning the feelings I could never really show

Now the silence haunts me…things I never said

Words twisting around like ghosts in my head

I was teetering on the edge

Trying not to fall

Sometimes SILENCE is the hardest thing of all.

-Gigi Ochs 2000

Different is OK

He reached out for me and I allowed it. I rested my chin upon his shoulder and leaned in as his arms wrapped snugly around me. My own arms found their way around his waist and I closed my eyes, giving myself over to his warmth. All at once I felt a rush of feelings ranging from sorrow to joy as I allowed myself the freedom to surrender into his embrace. A sudden realization was also taking root—this felt different. It was like a knot inside me began to slowly loosen and for once I wasn’t fighting it.

 

‘Different’ has never been easy for me to accept and his hug was different than the one that I craved in the moments where the world didn’t make sense to me. His hug was not the perfectly choreographed embrace burned into my memory by the man that loved me before. And although he had hugged me many times, this was the first time that I ever truly let him hold me. Something in me seemed to be giving way during this embrace and I wondered if he noticed.

 

 I surrendered a little more as I inhaled the scent of him and his hand gently found its way into my hair. I savored the moment a bit longer as I continued to reach around his waist, my fingers interlocking where they met. I suddenly heard the soft echo of the man that loved me before, his voice reaching up from the depths of my memory to whisper “‘Different’ is OK”, and those words hit me like a tidal wave.

 

 I blinked back tears as the embrace came to a close and we gently pulled away, untangling our arms. He laid me back down on the couch in his little makeshift office as I fought back the tears threatening to overtake me. I knew this observant man would immediately notice the watering of my eyes so I spoke softly as I blinked my tears away, “He once said to me that, ‘different’ was OK “

 

 He looked at me a bit puzzled as I continued on with my vague explanation, “He said we could never replace each other but that ‘different’ was ok too” His eyes lingered on mine for a second before he looked back to his computer screen—he had obviously decided not to push for further explanation. He knew who the ‘he’ I was referring to was.

 

 I gazed up at him as he sat perched on the edge of the couch working on the computer that sat an arms reach away on the desk. He allowed me ample room—both emotionally and physically--to stretch out behind him and ponder the realization, that different could indeed, be OK. But still I struggled with the idea as I heard the words echo from my memory—it was still just so hard for me to let old things go.

 

I held onto the idea that the man that loved me before was the only one that knew how to hold me. I had allowed others the physical embrace but kept a part of me out of the exchange because this wasn’t what I knew. I was finally realizing that I had been holding myself hostage from those that wanted just to hold me. It seemed that I was waiting for something that was never going to come again – I was waiting for the old hug, the one that defined what it felt like when a man truly loved a woman but that hug was gone, along with the man that created it. Everything was different now.

 

He glanced down at me again and I could tell that he was wondering what I was thinking but he didn’t ask. I laid the back of my hand down on his thigh and he responded by gently placing his hand in mine, reminding me that he was there but still giving me the silence to figure out what was happening to me.

 

 I rested my head back against the couch and thought of the last three weeks. It had been a rollercoaster of bad news, more bad news and even worse news. I was speeding towards different in every area of my life; family, work, relationships and now my home, where I felt safe and secure, was at risk of being pulled out from under me. It was all changing as I stood there watching, helpless, and unable to hold onto the familiar world I had created.

 

I had always known that the world I had built over the last two years was temporary; it was the cocoon that I had created after a devastating eight year relationship break-up. I knew on some level that life would force me out back into the world and that it wouldn’t allow me to hold on to the familiar heartache that I had come to know. Time is the great healer and my healing time was coming to a close but still, I was resistant to allow transformation. Everything in my life was becoming different and I was scared to death.

 

 I shifted slightly on the couch trying to take a deep breath without drawing attention. I tried my best to refocus myself and looked for something in the room to concentrate on. My eyes slid past a half completed sketch of a kangaroo and finally landed on a painting done by the man sitting next to me – it was a person curled up in the center of some undefined place, hiding their face from darkened arms as they reached out to get him. As I took in and identified with the painting, I could feel the familiar burn of tears stinging my eyes and I again, took a deep breath.  I was a guest in someone’s home and although we were alone, I couldn’t breakdown here. But I was so exhausted; exhausted from staying up too late arguing with a friend the night before; exhausted from trying to convince my landlord that the rent increase was too much and finally, I realized—with the help of an embrace from this man next to me--that I was utterly exhausted from fighting different. I started to collapse internally and fought to hold myself together.

 

 No! I am stronger than this! I tried to convince myself and I stood up suddenly to get a glass of water. He must have sensed my impending collapse because he followed close behind me wrapping his arms around my waist as we walked to the fridge. He let go long enough to pour me a glass of water and place it in my palm--all the while eyeing me with concern. I said nothing as I closed my eyes, gulped back the water and tried fiercely to contain the storm of tears that was raging behind my closed lids--but he didn’t buy it. He took the glass from my hands and put it down on the table. I hung my head in one last final attempt to hide my confusion and sadness but he reached for me anyway.

 

 “Let it out” he whispered and pulled me closer.

 

 A small sob escaped my throat as my forehead pressed against his chest. He was embracing me again and again I could feel myself surrendering. He whispered something soothing in my ear, wrapped his arms tighter around me and lead me to his bedroom.

 

 My eyelids felt heavy from exhaustion and my attempts to see were useless against the onslaught of tears but I could hear the muted click of the ceiling fan as it spun lazily in the quiet room and the sound of cicada’s right outside the window. I noticed the walls were painted royal blue--adding to the dark feel of the room and my mood--as I allowed him to lead me where he pleased.

 

 His bed was unusually high and I stopped when I felt it press into my lower-back. Without a moment of hesitance, he lifted me onto his bed, hopped up behind me, and tucked me safely away in his arms. I felt his lips gently kissing my hairline and his hand stroking my hair.

 

 As I lay there in his arms, it wasn’t just the feeling of ‘different’ that I noticed. There was also the growing feeling of contentment as I allowed the last of the knot of fear to uncoil with his gentle encouragement. I rested there in that darkened room with him for some time settling into the realization that this was very different but that it was more than ok, it was good.

 

 Again, I heard the voice of my old love echo in my mind but this time it was met with a thought of my own, yes, today I had learned that different was ok but more importantly, I learned that different meant that life is moving forward once again.