I’ve been listening to this song, and well… It reminds me of him and other him. I’m still quite confused. But I know what I’ll do. I’m giving Jon a chance. I’m setting aside any boundary, and from now on, it’ll just be him, my Jon. I hope…
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“Does your leaving mean something?” she asked, tentatively. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, certain that he wouldn’t know what she was pertaining to.
“Maybe. I don’t know,” he responded, with his hands doubtfully stroking his hair, landing on the pockets of his denim jeans.
He surely didn’t know what she was thinking, nor did he know why she had asked him such thing. Yet there was something about her body language, and the way that her eyes couldn’t seem to meet his, that got him to think that she wasn’t talking about a permanent leave.
So he said to himself, wishing she would be able to listen, “You think you’re not special.”
She didn’t move at the sound of his voice. She just stood there, stagnant, as if waiting for something grand to happen, something that would take her worries away.
“Talk to me,” he demanded softly, after he saw that she wouldn’t reply to any of his comments.
Minutes passed by, and he felt his heart standing on a thread, as his palms were moist from the sweat they were emitting. But then her lovely voice broke the silence, as if an angel had descended to bring some news, whether good or bad.
“When you depart everyday, I play your songs. I play your sweet melodies over and over and over. They heal me. I miss you, but they heal me. As I’m listening to every beat, every rhythm, and every sound… I close my eyes, and suddenly you’re there, in front of me, smiling right into my eyes with your cherry lips, playing on all the tunes I’m listening to. And then, in the middle of your great symphony, you stand up, walking towards me, but the music never stops. It goes on, even after you stand right before me, taking my hands into yours. It plays on, even after your nose touches mine lightly, and our lips intertwine. And that’s when my eyes open, because it’s all a daydream, and you’re really not present. Still, my frown turns into a smile, because at least, for an infinitesimal period of time, I was able to have you there, close to me. This is what goes inside my head every time you leave.”
When she finished, she finally took the courage to look up into his dazzling, dark eyes, and saw that his face was turning purple. She had taken his breath away. She had managed to do the things he always did to her, him and his music.
And so with this, he took her into his arms, wishing he would never let go, because in that moment he had finally found his melody: her.
