Tuesday, February 14, 2017

"Aural Amore"

He sings. A lot. Either in another room while browsing on his laptop, in the shower, or riding in the car, he will always be singing. He may hit the wrong note or lyric, but that will never deter him. He will belt it out loud and proud. He's become the background music to my life, and I never want to stop hearing him.

He gushes. He tells me multiple times every day that he loves me. He will stop what he is doing and interrupt whatever I am doing just to tell me “I love you!” Every night before bed must end with that phrase as well. Sure, sometimes I want to continue what I am doing or just want to slip into unconsciousness, but I repeat after him regardless, and I never want to stop hearing him.

He snores at me. No, I do not mean 'He snores next to me'. When we sleep and his face is close to mine, where I can feel each hot breath, he violently snores at me. I don't mind, though. I am quite used to it, but even if I am disrupted from slumber, I do not get annoyed. I like the reminder that he's there, and I never want to stop hearing him.

I've been here ever since that day. That day when I heard screeching tires and his voice calling my name with an 'I love you'. The pills they give me here don't seem to have the intended result they were hoping for. He still sings. He still gushes. He still snores. He still does all of this despite the accident that left me permanently deaf while also taking his life...

and I never...

EVER...

want to stop...

hearing...

him...