300 Writing Prompts #14: The Fear of Silence

That was the night I finally understood why people fear silence…

That night was a purple tranquility that was bound in holy matrimony with the poetry of stars that sprinkle the sky. The kind of night where the stars above only wanted to be embraced so that could shine all the brighter from the love it received. It was a encompassing embrace that hugged and made you feel safe within the illuminating light of the moon above.

That night, I could feel my own soul. Hear it so much clearly than the all the nights that came before and in that moment, sparked an innocent idea that would shatter all of what I knew.

I am, by nature, an over-thinker. I cannot tell you when it started but for as far I can remember, I have always been this way. I read entirely too much into things such a phone calls, text messages, and social media post… especially when I don’t feel comfortable about the subject matter and it isn’t clear cut. My mind races to dozens if not hundreds of conclusions, like the intricate design of a butterfly with all of its different paths and connecting parts and this leads me running my emotions through the gambit as I pause to consider each and every one. The goal is come up with the best possible outcome. What really happens is that I drive myself insane with the What-ifs.

It was late. I could say quite confidently that the day had went well. We spent the entire day together. First at the mall, allowing her to shop to her heart’s content at the stores she loved to get lost in. Then I gave her one of her many surprises of the day, the next book in a series we were reading together. From there, it was a dinner as cozy restaurant downtown where we ate and drank the night away. I am no drinker so I instantly became more entertaining as the night went on.

Concluding the night, we stopped in front of her house and moved to retire inside. As I said, the everything in the expanse of the night’s sky seemed to glow faintly… more than usual. And to this day, I will never forget how I felt. See, the night has almost been comforting to me. Always a generous veil that kept me safe while my dreams ran rampant and free. I’ve always been able to think clearer at night, a clarity that never really graces me during the day. It always allowed the chatter of voices, those never ending thoughts to be managed and expressed… an outlet during the hours in which I couldn’t purchase sleep.

Tonight would be the night that I these thoughts wouldn’t get the best of me. Where I wouldn’t succumb to the pressures of the unknown and the dread of something bad happening. I would see it through and lay my cards on the table, defiantly.

You see the problem with overthinking is that usually, we are good at planning. But when the plan starts to go south, even though you have may thought of the scenario in question, dealing with it on the fly with encroaching anxiety in your ear becomes almost in possible as your thoughts become to fuel to your own demise.

She turned and faced me at the door, smiling warmly as her eyes twinkled with the aid of the porch light. She smelled of vanilla that left me intoxicated the entire day, that heavy sweetish aroma caressing my nose and charming my senses. Her eyes seemed to observe the expanse of my soul, mocha pearls scrutinizing things within me that I could only dream of seeing in myself. She was an enigma and I had fallen victim to wiles.

We stood there as were two actors in the scene of a moment, the light casting the perfect spot underneath us. Those beams seemed to become ensnared in her hair, making her hair of curled delight glow with ardor. Her caramel skin appeared to be drinking the stars and the skin glittered softly as if she was wasn’t of this world. My heart drummed furiously, multiple players carrying the cadence of a war march as my devoured her beauty, drinking all of her in with the singular wish of that I would be brave enough to reach out and touch her… proving to myself that I wasn’t dreaming.

I don’t know how long we were there for, but the silence was broken with a sigh that escaped her soft lips like a passing tumble weed blowing pass us. The sound of a passing car soon followed. She moved to give me a hug and abruptly moved to go inside. As much as I wanted to stop her, I couldn’t will my body to react. Not as she fetched for her keys. Not as she used them to unlock the door. Not as she moved inside and not after she paused one last time, eyes meeting mine with an emotion that I couldn’t comprehend.

“Good night,” she said.

“Good night,” I replied.

She closed the door and allowed herself to fall against it. He turned and closed his eyes. They both slumped down… so much was said without a single word being spoken. Neither one of them able to interpreted or express their feelings, afraid of saying something that the other wouldn’t understand. There was only the sound of their hearts that cut through that silence.


This has been me so many times…

I decided to write something fictional here but base this in reality that I have dreaded all of my life. I have always feared what comes after you make a choice. I think everyone can relate to that in some form or another. But I think how that fear and anxiety grips you differs from person to person and what they have experienced.

In that silence, the void between words spoken and actions being taken is where my fear seeps into my pores, rapidly coursing through my body and paralyzing everything. My breathing becomes heavy and silent tremor in my hands. That void is a cruelty, a self-inflicted torture that plagues me long after the moment has past with the possibilities of what could have happened.

Like when you said something in text message and had to wait for the reply…

In that silence, because you have no direction… everything that can be thought of is a possibility and the we have no shortage of negative or depressing thoughts to fill that space. It comes in like a tide… overwhelming and encompassing, sweeping you away with the current. It disorients you, leaving you unable to gather your wits as you are flung about with no remorse.

And when it is finally over, you are left in the depths of what filled the void.

Now tasked with the quest to somehow escape… through all the thoughts and feelings that is bearing down on you… attempting to keep you there with shackles.

The only thing that break that silence… reached you through the void… You fight and struggle to the surface with that hope beating in your chest. Sometimes you make to the surface and escape.

Sometimes you don’t… those are the times that no one ever wants to talk about. Afraid of where their thoughts dragged them to. Terrified and not wanting to admit that those shackles were created by you… for you. And even if none of it is logical. None of it makes sense. None of it based in your reality and you deny that those voices could ever be apart of you.

They echo softly, lingering as you weep. And it hurts. I fear the feeling that comes at the end of it all and the journey it takes to get there. The affects of it and how they never seem to truly go away, just shelved somewhere to be used again when the time is right.


As always, thank you for stopping by and reading. You ladies and gentlemen are amazing and really appreciate it. Does silence have this type of hold over you? Post like these really makes me want to hear how others deal with situations and problems like this. There is some comfort in knowing that you aren’t the only one even if the experience isn’t the same. Let’s talk about in the comments below.

And as always, until the next post…

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