by Marissa Sealey

Created on: September 17, 2008

Another day of absolute silence. We were sitting next to each other in the long front seat of his old gray car. He didn't provoke an argument or a conversation either. In fact I think he started to enjoy the silence that had taken root between us. He pulled up at the front of the building where I was to meet my professor and I started to get out of the car. "So, you're not going to say good bye? No thank you or see you later?" His tone was full of irritation. "Thanks". I mumbled as I shut my door not daring to look back knowing I might just start crying again. This had become the story of my life. Silence. Had it really gotten this bad between us? Stupid question. Of course it had. No matter what I said it was always wrong or stupid. If I didn't agree with him or asked questions about what we were discussing it would escalate into an argument. It had finally gotten to the point where I was tired of him calling me stupid or starting an argument over nothing. That is when I slowly stopped talking. I awoke from our bed in silence and I cooked in our kitchen in silence. I lived and slept next to him in total and utter silence. I knocked on my professors door before he answered for me to come in. "Sir you wanted to see me?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, yes, please come in. I just wanted to talk with you for a few moments. I have been worried about you."
"Why is that sir?"
"Although your work has improved leaps and bounds your participation in class is dwindling. You have become so quiet. You don't talk in class unless called on and even then it is minimal. Is everything alright with you?"
"In all honesty sir I am going through somethings and I apologize for being so quiet as of late, but I am working through it."
"In that case please know if you need anything that my door is always open."
"Thank you sir." I quietly got up and left heading towards my next class.
He wasn't the first professor or person I knew, for that matter, to ask me about my increasing silence. I became even more ashamed. I had been such a bright pupil and now although my work was doing well my participation was not. Participation was a reflection of what we knew and how we understood our work. "I use to be so bright and happy." was all I could think. It was then that I realized as the love died in our relationship I died with it. I knew I couldn't do this anymore. Living my life in silence in order to not anger the man I loved made no sense to me. I had started making my plans. I would have to leave and I was dreading it. Silence could not save me here, but it had been more detrimental than helpful. Yes, I was tired of my silent life. Six months of silence was six months too many. I had to put an end to it.

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