The Stories We Can’t Tell

Yesterday, I was having a conversation with someone and he asked a simple question which I found hard to answer. I stuttered for a while not because I didn’t know what to say and also laughed not because I was joyful. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer because of the memories attached to the answer.

I’m sorry that I keep on saying question and answer instead of saying exactly what it is. I think it’s obvious that I’m still trying to avoid that topic. As I said, it just brings me so much pain not just emotionally but physically too. Even though that answer is simple to say, the pain it brings me sometimes actually makes its way into my chest.

I’ve been thinking about why it’s still there even though I’ve talked about it several times. You know how they say you should talk about the things that bother you so you feel lighter, blah blah? Yeah I’ve done all that and still don’t feel lighter. And I’ve not done it once or twice but many times. Tell you what. I still feel the same.

So after the conversation, I just came to a conclusion that maybe certain things are better left unsaid. Because trust me, the only time I feel okay is when I’m not talking about it. But the moment I begin to express myself regarding the issue, it becomes a lot to deal with.

I think maybe, just maybe, we don’t have to always talk about everything. I see many of forcing ourselves into a place where we express ourselves because we think if we don’t deal with that pain today, we’re still going to deal with it tomorrow. Well, I think we have types of pain and some of them, especially the one that comes with losing a person never really goes away or there’s nothing you can do to deal with it. We just learn how to live with it as time goes by.

So then if I don’t want to talk about it, I’m not talking about it. And that silence maybe is the buffer I need for the pain.