I think I have so much to say that I have nothing to say.
The intensity to say overpowers the ability to say. Thoughts are so many and so intense that you don't know which one to give words to. All your thoughts turn into prayers.
if you had asked me my name I wouldn't know what to say. Not because I couldn't think clearly or even that I didn't want to reply but does it matter? What does even my name mean? Would you remember it? Do you actually want to know it? I don't want you to think about me, see me, or remember me. Nothing matters.
It was raining heavily. I heard a car stopping at the gates and then saw a figure striding towards the main door. Benumbed I didn't move or turn on the light. All I can tell is that she was wearing a dark overcoat. And that it was her. She didn't say anything or turn the light on.
Silence is like love like a warm hug. It felt so.
It was around midnight. I didn't know why she came. Maybe she came to tell me something. She was a troubled soul as I was. Maybe she wanted to ask for help. I don't know. She didn't say anything.
Did I pray for her to come, unconsciously? Are all thoughts prayers? Rain was pelting down ferociously. Drowning any noise. Noise even inside my head. That is what it has become. All those thoughts. Just noise.
Usually, all this noise, something entirely abstract, finds its way out as tangible droplets.
After a while, she went to the kitchen and cooked noodles. Then she asked if I had heard the song 'sway' by someone she had forgotten.
I didn't ask about the burden she was carrying and she didn't ask me to show her my wounds.
I don't know what happens. Why it's so easy with her. We have so much to say but we never say.
We wanted to talk so much that we didn't know what to say.
