What I Will Miss - and What I Will Not

What I will miss when he is gone is the noise. The constant turmoil that churns the mind and the soul, that compels one to consider and contemplate, that makes rest an option that does not exist. The anger and disappointment that forces a visceral reply, that makes one feel red hot with passion, responding with every ounce of strength to that deep well of  trouble which lurks in his every sentence, every wave of the hand, every impossibly wrong action. He does not allow for quiet.

What I will not miss when he is gone is the noise. The constant turmoil that churns the mind and the soul, that compels one to consider and contemplate, that makes rest an option that does not exist. The anger and disappointment that forces a visceral reply, that makes one feel red hot with passion, responding with every ounce of  strength to that deep well of trouble which lurks in his every sentence, every wave of the hand, every impossibly wrong action. He does not allow for quiet.