There's this noise, a roar, a piercing shriek, a riotous cacophony. It permeates everything that I am and was and will ever be. It's deafening, and my ears recoil from the force of the sound. My mind rejects it, but it's like rejecting my beating heart. And my heart is fueled by it.

Its oscillations vibrate my bones, my joints, my tendons. I feel this din as surely as I feel my own body heat. It's just there, always and forever.

Until I try, really try, to hear it.

I shut out all distractions, I isolate myself, I close my eyes, I listen.

Nothing.

Every fiber of my being suddenly craves desires yearns for that which should be there must be there could be there would be there if only...

If only...

I want to write. I really do. I want to write and much as I want to breathe. More, maybe.

Just not about this. Just not about her.