Has it ever been so loud it’s silent?

When you have to keep quieting all the drafts in your folder, piled up, waiting to be alive, protesting to be heard with the crowd of broken fragments written on post it notes, you give in. I was never one to stick to promises anyway, and especially not ones to myself.

People are always going to see me as that girl who gets things done. You only hear my “professional” voice or my “writing” voice. I lose the in-between, the authenticity. I just want to be a friend. I do think about how different people feel about these words. How I feel about seeing them after they’ve read me inside-out. But I’m not going to hold myself to an unreachable standard of quality to write a blog post. Life is simpler than that. It’s simple.

We spend all of life finding that perfect balance, only to throw it off, just for fun. A year ago, almost to the date, I cut my hair. And I still don’t know if I left the best parts of me behind.

There’s too much heartbreak in this world to hold. I always talk about peace, finding peace in God. Always telling the girls, God will give you peace. But I’ve never taken it, never accepted it because I crave noise in my life in order to drown out the sirens. I want to know what it’s like to trust freely again. To trust freely, and to let myself be loved again. So I am waiting upon the Lord.

Honestly, I’m learning to let it go. I wish I could explain what’s been happening, but I can only mold words so far. But here. Has it ever been so loud it’s silent? Have you ever feared for a split second that you would never rise above water again? The more you shine a light into a fog, the more it deflects back at you. I sowed the seeds of expectation. And it rained for days and days and would not stop.

But the skies are whispering to you. To live. Here comes college and life and careers and marriages and families and age and …. tell me it’s worth it. Did I stop writing to try and find “happiness”? How silly of me. But could I have? Will I ever?

I am hanging on a thread, but I am not a pendulum. My life is a poem, but I can only rhyme so far. There are few verbs more beautiful than love, but here is one: stay. I am here to stay.