Once upon a time I was scared of the silence, in fact I dreaded it.  I tried to fill my life with so much noise in the hopes that it would drown out any chance that the silence would catch up with me.  I remember sitting in my apartment on a Sunday afternoon after a long drawn out night of trying to attach myself to some other lonely soul and it was so quiet that even the clock seemed to be holding its breath.  Silence never scared me more than it did in times likes those because if all was quiet, somehow I was forced to listen to the beating of my own heart which meant I was still there, in that space, completely alone.  Back then, I hated being alone.

Now here I sit with noises from my dog Marley snoring and my son playing up in his bed when he is supposed to be taking a nap and all I long for at this moment, is silence.  It's been so long since I've had one moment by myself that I've almost forgotten what it feels like.  I suppose driving in the car can be considered being alone but since most places I drive are to do something for someone else - they don't count.  Am I selfish?  Maybe.  I can honestly say that I don't even know what selfish looks like anymore.  Noise can drown out the demons you are afraid of facing or it can be the obstacle that stands in the way of rediscovering who you are.  Some say silence is over rated but in my mind, those are the very people who resemble that young woman I used to be, turning up the stereo, starting the dishwasher, doing a load of laundry - just to drown out the silence that surrounded her.  What I wouldn't give to be able to turn off the noise and for the first time welcome the silence like a long lost friend.