Who cares what they say as long as they say something, tolerating not knowing is torture.
My old friend, at one time in life we laughed about fishing and the turtle I snagged on my hook. We rode dirt bikes and emptied beer cans, but we never crashed. Hunting, shooting deer, and the carcasses we drug from the swamp, so many killed and thanks again for the help you were my best friend. We did eat meat together. I have always enjoyed our walks in the woods, long talks and laughter. So why are you quiet now? What thing has disrupted the flow? Is it money or madness; is it the children or wife? Who can say, only your heart knows. But your silence, your silence is screaming. And I keep wondering why….
Are you offended, or angry, is there a resentment to uncover? Should more speech provoke an answer? Why are you silent? Do you feel charred and disrespected by some mistake I have made in front of you? Should I confront you with the truth of my questions, or let the silence be still. Can we trade minds and hearts so understanding can be reached? Can we adjust the outcome of the friendship? Who will ever know the truth unless ideas are interacting with purpose? I am disappointed in the treatment of no respect. A friend is a friend who talks. Be silent then and say your piece with no words. In fact, I am angry at the outcome because I thought we were friends. Yet too quiet, is the words you have chosen to answer me with… Why? Should I say more? Do you even understand the feeling of rejection? Is your pencil broken in half? Did your pen run out of ink? Has the cat got you tongue? I have seen your temper but have never noticed your grudge.
On all the earth I have but a few friends, and you my friend were first choice. We picked up where we left off, and each time I greet you with a smile and a hug. A handshake would never do. Your respect is something I must have taken for granted. Oh don’t feel so alarmed with the openness of my affections. We are manly men with military backgrounds and weapons. Shoot to kill and never leave the fallen behind. Our ranks support the troops around us and the integrity of the flag was a common ground, honor. We stand in support of this great nation, America.
So again, why no answer? Not even a flashing of a light, a signal in the dark or an opinion of some trouble that happened. I am unaware. Sometimes my blunt can be offensive, and so is your silence. My cards are face up on the table, my poker hand revealed. Are we still friends? Brother like the days of teen. I hope all is well, I hope your children all love you. I surely do. And your wife, I appreciate how she has guided you. Sitting here remembering reminiscing… and wondering. Can you just say something, say something my friend.