Existing in a perpetual cycle of disembowelment of the soul is deafening. The continued silence of a love that has ravaged you from the innermost parts of your body to the insatiable tingling of your skin when you so much as smell the essence they’ve left behind; it is thunderous to the soul in its ruins. That has been the subsistence of many.
Everything in my body was telling me to leave. It wasn’t worth it, I kept telling myself. But his pearly smile and sandy brown hair were like magnets to my eyes. I could not help but to wonder what it would feel like to be underneath his muscular hands, the big hands with strong veins exuding manliness from his every touch. I gave in and I tried to justify it by saying it was just coffee, coffee in a crowded place. What could possibly happen?
When I listened to him, I felt as if there wasn’t a place on Earth that could replicate the beauty of pure emotion being ripped from your chest and laid bare for all to see. No landscape on Earth, no animal above or below, no star in the heavens could compare to to the unspoken words he said to me through his music.