It's quiet now.
I used to relish in the noises of the night.
Yelling. Music. The sound of hundreds of feet shuffling around one another to find someone to make their own.
And even then I would think, all this noise, all these meaningless gestures hidden by noise.
Then I heard your voice.
Like a deafening roar among a million whispers, I heard your voice. The only noise I ever heard louder than yours came soon after, and it was only a few feet off the ground.
From that moment forward, I couldn't do anything without those particular noises present around me. Couldn't sleep, eat, think. I needed the sounds of laughter, of pouting, of disagreement, of debate, of singing from the heart, I love you songs. They were masterpieces of sound. Nothing in the world ever sounded so beautiful. A request for chocolate milk, or a demand for five more minutes of sleep from either of those composers is pure ecstasy.
Nothing makes any noise after that.
A plane on an asteroid, carrying one thousand drummers, each yelling in chaos, smashing into the center of your eardrum, could never drown out a sound like that. The whole earth becomes a muted paradise when you have sounds like theirs. But...it's quiet now. I have to force myself to hear anything. From the pulse of own heart, to the rain dancing on the window sill. Seconds, minutes,and hours go by and I can't help but notice.
It's quiet now.
