Sounds of Girlfriend Past

There are some sounds that you hear every day, but it belongs to the past. It will never mix well with your present. If you are lucky enough, it will become tolerable.

The sound of the next-door grill opening and closing, always, always reminds me of an innocent love that waited for that sound; a signal for stairwell meeting. Eyes straining in the dark from the window, ears half taking in the voice of the lover and half-listening for sounds from other rooms. I am far, far, away from that love, that feeling. I move on easily, I guess. But I don’t forget.

Footsteps approaching in the dark. Shuffling to give space on the steps to sit. Maybe smoke, maybe talk, maybe kiss- if we are brave enough. Footsteps receding near the hostel entrance. I really, really, try to forget; only to get reminded of it again.

Style and Wildest Dreams- favourite songs turned beautifully painful. Lyrics just too accurate, or maybe I am reading/listening into it?

Sound of feet climbing the sturdy ladder to the terrace. Breath falling too close to my face, tickling my ears, too warm on my neck. Too close for friends, too sinful for lovers. The pain of losing a friend, the relief of still being single.

Irene Adler’s gasp and guitar strums of the Mystic River, always filling me with hope, even in the midst of hopelessness. Even when I know for sure, it’s not for me, it will never chime from my phone.

Some sounds belong to the past, but are too close to the present, and are sad promises of never being part of the future. If I am lucky enough, I will stop flinching at them.