Sitting in the doctors surgery writing this. I’m having what I have nicknamed a ‘quite moment’. It sounds nice doesn’t it?
Well it’s not, theses moments stalk me. They wait until I’m feeling like I might just be ok to strike.
They whisper dark thoughts of being alone and never being whole again. They whisper that he was right to leave me.
They whisper that I deserve everything I get.
They tell me in fat and no one will want me.
Quite moments are the bain of my life.
They are the wait for the bus.
They are the wait for the doctor.
They are the few minutes or hours before I nod off at night.
They are the moments at work where the customers seem to disappear and it’s just me – alone.
They are the moments I sit in the bath.
They are me having a coffee in the cafe, when I’ve finished my paper and I realise no one is waiting at home.
They are numerous and new ones appear at any given moment.
I’m hoping to have less quite moments.