Whenever I’m alone with you, I begin to hear sounds I usually don’t notice.
Like the sound of raindrops when we were waiting for the rain to subside on our first date.
Or the sound of a truck’s horn when we kissed sloppily in the dark alley, giggling our worries away.
Also the sound of a crying baby next door when we started talking about marriage; about convincing our parents and raising a child.
But among every sounds I have noticed, there were sounds I could never forget, even if I wanted to. They rang true and clear that day, and they ring even clearer now.
Like the sound of your laughter when you were having fun without me–the sound of them making jokes, and the sound of you responding in glee to every sentence.
Or the harmony of violin strings when you took her out to the concert, without knowing I also went to the same performance.
The sound of my own cries when I realized you were doing fine without me.
The cracking sound of threatened hopes and dreams–nurtured with and forsaken by love.
And the sound of my heart, breaking beyond repair, when you told me we couldn’t be together anymore.
I dedicate this post to L,
my true love, my broken Valentine
Happy Valentine’s Day! I may be a non-believer now, but I still wish everyone joy and love. May your Valentine’s Day be better than mine.