There’s this voice coming from deep within the Center of my chest, that started as a whisper , built to a plead, now has settled at the fiery core of my body, deep in my soul, the root of my crushing heartache that wants to scream; tonsil shivering , banshee wailing , howl, wail, shout and screech, scream or shriek from the top of my lungs , as loud as I can , for as long as I can until they hurt and my throat clenches and I can scream no more.
Screams born of sleepless nights and distracted days.
Screams emanating from buckets of tears and gasping sobs begging for relief from the emotional torment and abuse.
Screams of my once calm voice telling him that I am not trash but a woman of value, a woman of love and kindness who never asked for any of this.
Screams begging for understanding and to be recognized as the woman he once deeply loved.
Screams born of going unheard and ignored for so long. Screams because the one person I needed to hear me kept turning his head and plugging his ears and listening only to the voice of the person who hates me most.
Screams conceived out of head splitting frustration, of hurt, of pain, of anger, of sorrow, of loss, of betrayal, of injustice.
Scream until there is nothing left. Scream until I am void of the pain and bitterness. Scream what was once the greatest love of my life that became my worst nightmare.
I want to scream so loud that generations beyond me will hear it and run away from anything remotely similar to the hell I’ve endured at the hands of a so-called open relationship evolution. I want to scream out the hypocrisy and double standards and revisionist tailored history. I want to screech until I no longer remember the manipulative tactics and control I was subjected to.
I want to scream my way upwards and out of the toxic cesspool of dysfunction I was drowning in and he continues to flail in blindly.
I want to scream away every ounce of blame placed solely on me and my actions , absolving them with excuses and falsehoods, every second of the guilt trip of the things ‘we all did’ to ensure our demise, with only me as the punished.
I want to clench my fists tight with rigid arms stiff at my ribcage, pressing down as if magnetically drawn to the core of the earth and scream so loud that my toes curl and instinctively rise to my tippy-toes to squeeze out every last nano cell of insanity that became my every conversation with him.
I want to scream until my head is void of all memories of him, of us, and my stomach settles back to normal versus the sick, stressed out nausea that settles in whenever I interact with him.
I want to scream to exorcise the insanity that overtook us. The horrific insanity he drove me to too many times. The insanity that was them.
I want to scream away every other beautiful , fun, interesting woman he’s flaunted as my replacement and destroyed my confidence and heart. Scream away the demoralizing abuse they / he loved to inflict on me.
I want to scream until I’m empty. Void of all emotion and feeling. Void of memories. Void of pain.
Then sleep for a century to recover. And forget.
In the words of the ever talented Chris Cornell, Scream:
“Throwing out the blame when you know it ain’t my fault
Messing with my brain when you wanna see me fall
There may come a time when I don’t bother you at all
It isn’t my call, it isn’t my call
Hey, why you keep screaming at the top of your head?
… I used to think that silence was golden”