I sit up in bed and reach for my water; it soothes and embraces me, a cool companion to the silence that sounds like peace. I begin searching through my electronic library for my next read. There are plenty to choose from—51 to be exact—ranging from health and memoirs to biographies and romance.
I face my windows, which take up 75% of my walls and overlook the courtyard. Lights, both artificial and natural, are never shy; they shine boldly day and night, making sleep inconsequential to their brilliance. But this morning, that peace is shattered. A couple's quarreling rage barges in, intruding without apology on my tranquil rise.
I can hear their shouts in the midst of a heated argument. Though I don't understand the language they speak, the rage is clear. Lord have mercy, I think. It is only 8:50 a.m. and they are going at each other like rabid dogs. How can they allow their relationship to reach a place where, at the sun's first rise, they cannibalize each other this way? This is the sound of a dying relationship; nothing can survive in such ugliness.
It is truly sad. It seems they have both forgotten the beginning: why they got together and why they chose each other. Instead, they are consumed with finger-pointing, blaming, shaming, and demoralizing one another. The horrendous tones are hard to digest, and I am fast becoming distressed. It is too much for me to bear as an unwilling listener, imprisoned in those moments by my ability to hear.
The negative energy catapults me out of bed, desperate for distance. I pull up a Kirk Franklin playlist on YouTube and turn on the shower, blessedly drowning out the noise of a dying relationship.
Written by D.S.B.S.Rhapsodyphoenix © all Rights reserved
Sad way to wake up. Uh, turn the music louder to make them notice?, cotton in your ears? Note at their door? Chasing peace can get tricky. Linda in Kansas
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