Empty Of Meaning

Too many words. There are too many words that have been said and now we stand here inside the only thing that remains: the silence. Around us the very air seems empty of meaning with no energy to carry any more words upon it. The air itself seems thick, heavy, as though weighted down by too much that has already been said.

Neither of us has the energy either for more words. They have become meaningless sitting heavy in the pit of the stomach like a surfeit of excuses, explanation, denial and justification. We have gorged ourselves on our self-justifications and now we feel sick. The thought of just one more word lies heavy and makes the gorge rise.

We cannot, though, turn away from each other. Neither of us knows how to be alone any longer. We fear too that solitude will bring back the words. We fear words of recrimination haunting our loneliness, the ghosts of all we have walked away from and lost.

So, we stand, heads bowed in defeat, but each waiting for the other to make acknowledgement of their capitulation, so that we can both surrender together and leave the battlefield in mutual defeat. That way we can bring comfort to each other, each easing our own pain within the sorrows of the other.