OG TEL

“Let live and let go.” He was teetering again – on the verge of something but not quite there yet, always in that pattern – always just a little more, but never enough. And the words (those stupid cheesy words!) tasted like dust in his mouth – dry, empty, nothingness (easily washed out, crushed – destroyed) but he said them still. Not because he wanted to, or because he believed them – but because it was so quiet. Dark and soundless and alone. Though maybe not alone – there was his mind, and those voices, the ones he called the “other hims” but today – this night – the voices weren’t talking (yelling, demanding, whispering) so it was quiet.

And maybe he reveled in it, just a little, being out from under their thumb as he watched herdrive away from the house (her house, his house, their house). Though… maybe he liked the quiet because it sounded like letting go. Empty, nothing, gone – like her, them, that part of him that stopped (breathing, living, thriving) being him when she left. And now, there was nothing left to do but –

Live and let go