Breaking in Silence

Sometimes it happens this way.

In this quiet, yet wreckless way where you have one drink one night. Two the next.. five the night after.
Not realizing how tightly you have had your fist wrapped around your vice.

Staying awake until 5 am on most days. Unable to grasp your slumber. Unable to even reach for it..
In a quiet home on nights like these, the space becomes you.

An empty vessel, just an extension to the capacity of your mind. Space to grow louder. Repetitive, relentless and unwavering reminders of everything that you have to be anxious about and just how quickly things can, and might fall apart.

Your breathing no longer familiar. Shallow, barely noticeable and doing just enough, as is that muscle with which you once loved.
How tragic to be broken, alone, and severely distrusting.

Sleepless and peace-less.
Craving consolation.
Breaking, but still hopeful.

Crying out in a long-winded, barely coherent prayer to God as you stand there naked and bare in your conviction beneath a scolding shower at 6 o'clock in the morning.

Sometimes we break in silence. Trees made to fall frail in a forest without a witness. But weather there is a witness, or not. Weather there is support, or not. As quiet and lonely as it gets here in the midst of sadness and worry, I still have hope.

We have to have hope.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A good one Mr. Santos with a wakeup call to addicts and the road down the rabbit hole. I hope people can heed your words. Kudos.