this year, we learnt that sound travels in a wave. yet your sound was so much more intricate than that. it travelled in spirals and delicate swirls and feathery strokes and would linger for a split second before hitting my eardrums. i never understood how something so soft and beautiful could hit me with such force. it was the kind of force that adrenaline junkies thirst for, the kind that makes the birds in your chest and the butterflies in your stomach beat their wings so fast, it feels like you’re able to fly yourself. even though i’m scared to death of heights, i thirsted for that flying feeling that only you could give me.

but your voice doesn’t reach my ears anymore. it disappears in the thick folds of air that now only hold something broken way beyond repair.