The Comfort of Not Knowing

Sometimes, writing feels like screaming into the void

Like I’m expecting the void to answer

Asking questions no one has answers to

But asking them anyway

I’ve been trying to befriend the void

One step at a time

It has always been there

Being unapologetically itself

I wish to speak to it

My voice gets louder, but I get no answers

So I sit there in silence, in acceptance

I don’t think I’ll ever avoid the void

I know fully well that I’ll always come back to it

I’m stubborn, and so is the void

And in its stubbornness

And in my stubbornness

I know that we somehow understand each other

We don’t need conversations

Silence is okay

I would like to believe

That the void is on my side

Strange, I know

It’s just there, it doesn’t respond

But, maybe in its silence

It understands me

Maybe the point is to not let it consume me

But use it like a mirror

A mirror that shows me my mistakes and my imperfections

And I’m not talking about physical imperfections

I sit there in its presence, which feels like an absence

And end up talking to myself

Reaching out to the darkness

And coming back to myself

The questions arise again

I write them down

There are way too many

And then, I start writing the answers

Making up answers

To bring me comfort

To soothe the turmoil within me

The darkness, the mirror, the unknown

How it haunts me

How I refuse to leave its side

I would like to believe

That it’s my friend

I’m not expecting any answers anymore

I’ll make up my own

But it’s comforting to know

That I have a friend

Who helps me come back to myself

Time and time again.

Thank you for reading!🌷

🙌 If you enjoyed this story, don’t forget to follow my Vocal profile for more fresh and honest content every day. Your support means the world!