Oh Void,
I think we’ve known each other for too long, we’ve settled into an uncomfortable place where too much is left unsaid. You know the danger of implicit communication as much as I, or do you? You’re not known for your verbosity or your candour, so perhaps perhaps you don’t. Well let me tell you something, there’s a great catharsis to getting those things known but unsaid out in the open, no matter how raw and painful they might be. That’s pain though powerful, sharp and perhaps altering, is ultimately less damaging not like that gnawing, groaning weight of thoughts mutually recognised but unspoken. We will be better void to get it out now. And so I write, and beg you to shout to me into the darkening night.
Yours hopefully.
My sweet Void,
I think your silence makes me want you all the more.
Yours lustily.
Void, old buddy, old friend,
I’m tired of your shit. Would you just answer every once in a while? I don’t need much, just a word or two to break this silent din.
Your frustrated familiar.
Void,
Are you ghosting me?
Impatiently.