is it the never talking again. the silence. the not knowing. the unknown. is it you. is it me. is this purgatory. the in-between. maybe its nothing. “You don’t care as much as you think you do”. maybe I don’t. I know of being tired. Exhausted. Finished. Content in the days that streamed into weeks. And I know of my heart pounding, and dropping to the floor when your name appeared on my phone. I know of mixed signals. Of wanting what you hate and hating what you want. Swallowing that lump in the back of your throat and cramming down the urge to say anything. I’ve learned of walking away, and watching others walk away. I’ve learned to only believe half of what you hear. I’ve learned to be alone. To want whats normal. I have yet to learn how to ignore. How to let the silence be my only response. but I am desperate for it. desperate for not caring and idle hands that don’t need to say anything.