i have never minded the quiet.
it is such a comforting, relaxing thing.
rarely do i drown in it,
but for him, it was always another matter.
i have learned that to him, the quiet is an ocean.
it is vast and reckless and unknowable,
much like he is.
i have only come to realize how he gasps for air, struggles to swim, to stay afloat in the waves of his own being.
little else do i know of him.
how much has he seen?
how much has he felt?
how long has he been trying not to drown?
little do i truly know, and i fear that much like his ocean, he will continue to remain unexplored.
i fear that he will be crushed by the waves, forever lost, forever drowning, with the only sound being the echo of the silence, and the rawness of his thoughts.
i hope he will not be consumed by his waters.
i hope he stays afloat.
i hope that one day, he may learn how to swim.
may he embrace the ocean, and no longer fear it.