She dances, but she does not hear the same song as me. Swinging back and forth to the strums of the guitar gently echoing, she smiles. She claps. She even spins. But she does not hear the same song as me.
When I hear this song, I forget where I am. I finally understand that heartbreak has a sound. I wonder how strong a feeling can actually get before it is too much to bear. I feel my stomach drop like I’m on a rollercoaster that only seems to go down. I think back to the day I met him; the day I started loving someone more than I have ever loved myself. Tears fall from my face the same way petals fall from wilted flowers. And I realize that’s all I have left.
But she continues to sway from one direction to the next, while I cannot seem to remember how to move. It’s been so long since I have felt big enough to take up and control my five foot seven figure. I sit; prisoner to my own body. I wonder what it’s like to be free. These chains still hold me to someone who left a long time ago. And she dances. She confesses her profuse love for this song, but she doesn’t even understand it. The lyrics seem to parade in one ear and out the other. The rays of music may salsa on her skin, but they dig deep into mine. They uncover everything about him that I promised myself I would forget. The music takes control of my vacant body and for a solid three minutes I am nowhere to be found. I forget what is and only know what used to be.
I hear the last words of the song and I lift my head cautiously. He always had a good taste in music and it’s no wonder this song was his favorite.