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Moments of true silence are a treasure to me. I feel like I’ve received a present I had forgotten to ask for. After seven years, I hardly notice the ringing in my ears anymore. It’s not constant. At times it gradually becomes worse enough for me to notice. Time passes. I muddle through. Next thing I know, I suddenly don’t want to bash my head against a wall any longer. It’s quiet. Silent. Calm. Peaceful. It’s wonderful.
I can go months without thinking about it. Then… BAM. It hits me. The world isn’t buzzing. There is no small hum. There are no bells, no rings, no creaks.
Didn’t I say it was wonderful? Sigh.
But it’s the small things that keep us going. I’ve learned not to take the silence that I’m given for granted.
I love to listen to the quiet.
I feel like I could bask in it.
I can hear myself think.
Then reality tumbles in and breaks me out of my reverie. The clock is ticking in the room next to me; the refrigerator is kicking in, ice is dropping; the heater floods on; a cell phone vibrates and the computer begins humming.
My head begins to throb again.
The world is a loud place. On the other hand, so is my head. It’s still a moment to celebrate when one of the two calms down. For now, the moment is lost. I’m waiting for the next one. Waiting, and wishing.