Love Is Symphony |✓

| 40 |

"Matt," I whispered to the other line, letting my voice's echo travel the distance between us and the man who used to be my everything. The very same man who I thought I had my future with.

How? What? Why? Why now? The questions kept on mounting up in my head along with the rapid acceleration of my heart beat. It has been so long. I've waited for so long for him to come back—I've suffered sleepless nights with only tear-stained pillows as my company... why did he come back now out of all the other times he should've? Why now when I was finally sure of my feelings for you, Sean?

A tear slid down my cheek. "It's you. I-I can't believe it. I—it's you."

"Serenity," he said, voice as calm as white, puffy clouds that dotted the earth on a summer day, "I'm back from Australia just as I promised, and I just... can we talk?"

I couldn't help it. Choked cries came out of my mouth. I pressed a fist to my lips, trying to swallow down all the sound of pain that would come out. The very same mouth that kissed you, Sean, my love, was now crying for another man; crying for someone else who for a short period of time made me feel as if I mattered.

I heard a noise behind me and I quickly hid behind a parked car, afraid that you might see me in this state; afraid than anyone might realize that these tears that were coating my cheeks weren't for you, but rather for the boy who left me crying in one of the most beautiful of mornings. With my head bent low, tear stains on my jeans, crouched down and hidden behind a black Volvo, all I could think about was Matt and how much I've waited for this moment to come. How not-so long ago, his name was the one I kept on whispering to the wind, hoping—no, praying—for him to come back and bring light to my life that had slowly dimmed... darkened... emptied. And now he came, granting my wishes but it turned out... it wasn't what my wishes were made of anymore.

"Serenity. please... say something. Please don't cry." He sounded as if he was begging for me to say anything to end this agony that wrapped itself around our necks too tight, and it continued to rip me apart knowing very well that I couldn't stop crying.

I wish I could, but the truth was, I couldn't. The memories came back too strong. It hit me like a tidal wave and I was left sprawled-over on the shore, chest heaving and eyes barely open. I remembered everything about him, Sean. I remembered him and the feelings his name always brought. 

Matt's smile and the dimples that adorned his cheeks and the feel of them against my fingertips as I traced his skin. His golden blond hair and the way his emerald green eyes always twinkled with warmth and mischief. He was a breath of fresh air. With hands as soft and gentle as feathers and lips as sweet as candy cane, he was home. I missed how his eyes would roll whenever I'd say the word 'stupid' far too many times than he thought necessary; how he never really liked tea and preferred hot cocoa with milk; how proud he was every time he finished painting another masterpiece, his fingers coated in the brightest of colors; how his nose would wrinkle at the smell of pickles, because it was disgusting; how he'd whisper I love you in the softest tone to me out of the blue just because he felt like it.

I liked his black-rimmed glasses, something that he always thought made him look funny; his humility that never failed to make me smile; how the word 'aesthetic' never failed to make him groan, and the way it'd always make his nose wrinkle. I missed him. I missed every moment spent with him. I missed how he could always make me smile and laugh even when he felt as if the world was falling apart, that even if his parents were fighting over and over again and he found it hard to sleep at night, he'd always be the one to say good morning first. I loved that he loved his family beyond everything and I loved that I was a part of his dreams.

The woman I'd marry, he used to call me. He envisioned a small house filled with his bright paintings and the smell of my cakes. A house with white picket fences and a wonderful garden with roses, tulips, posies, and our goals. But just like every dream, I'd always have to wake up no matter how good it was.