I don’t what to talk about it because I do not have an answer; I have no idea what happened.
What I *do* know is that, somehow, after all of those words, all that's left is silence.
I could just die from shame and humiliation. I don't know which is worse: the concrete prison I cannot bust out of or my part in constructing it.
The quest for the answer to “What happened?!!” has driven me insane. So to hear externally what I incessantly hear internally tears at the very fine threads that are barely keeping my insides in.
That’s why the retreat.
Sometimes we must retreat to find a balance. I've done a bit of a retreat myself as of late. So I get it. Sometimes silence is the only way we can speak without betraying ourselves. Or maybe I'm only imposing my own reasons for a need for silence on yours... Who can ever be sure?
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