Return to Silence is as full of words as all your books (idea)

She [Quiet Sensation|tiptoes softly] into the room. She saw the wince upon your brow when you walked in. She noticed [It is just like the hands to tell their story without shame |the hand pressed over the left eye], half closed. You are lying down upon the bed, briefcase tossed on the floor instead of placed in the closet. Coat carelessly flung over the back of the vanity chair. Shoes not even kicked off but still on. She [sometimes, i need this. |doesn't chastise] you for getting mud on the bed. [empathy|She knows] you are hurting.

She hands you a glass of water and two Excedrin, kissing you on the brow when [She does not know how much I need this|you gratefully look up at her]. You don't have to say anything. She knows you are thankful. She places the glass of water onto the bedside table then turns to draw the curtains closed, darkening the room. She removes your shoes for you, hangs up your coat, takes your [and yet she lingers|empty lunch bag] out of your briefcase to bring into the kitchen, and then puts the case into the closet as well.

When she returns from the kitchen, she has a hot damp cloth to lay across your brow. She has always insisted this will [her hands on my back; slipping into sleep |relax some of the tension] until the painkillers take effect. She draws a quilt over your body, then leaves the room as silently as she came in pulling the door closed behind her. You hear the music from the next room turned off within moments. You no longer hear the small indignant voices arguing over whose turn it is to pick the cartoon. You don't even hear the sound of the TV. You are surrounded by blissful silence and darkness. Already the [headache] becomes less intense.

You used to [sense of wonder|wonder] what you had done to deserve her, this woman. You no longer wonder. She [Love one another and you will be happy. It's as simple and as difficult as that. |simply loves] you. She shows you [there are about fifty thousand things i'd love to say to you but none of them are words |a thousand ways] every day. It isn't the words she uses but the actions she takes. [Something|Actions] as simple as drawing the curtains closed when the light hurts your eyes.

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