Silence

She told me that the storm broke, that clarity filled her. And for the first time in weeks I believed her. I walked around pinning and wrapping, dressing and primping as she told me how her physical emotional reaction matched that of the sky. The picture was beautiful. And poetic.

How many weeks of tearing have seemed to ravish her heart? I can't remember the last time it seemed like the stuff that floated between them wasn't drowning one or the other. But then I was left feeling my own ravished heart, wanting to scream and shout and shake, but left silent.

A loud silence.

Two can tear and I have felt torn for weeks now wishing things would turn out differently. There is a balance between wishing for something and imposing, however. So I bite my tongue and look the other way, but it makes me feel the tearing as I watch them banter.

I made a decision yesterday to grow up, suck up, close up. But not stand up. I decided to embrace, to forgive, to love, to serve, to fill my days with charity and not dwell on the pain that seems to intensify every time I see the bird smile on account of the happiness.

Because she is happy.