one would think that a heart in love would sound of symphonies and pretty chatter, from the chirping amongst the trees to the slow, whistling breeze, but in vain! there was nothing to be heard in the empty heart that only echoed words of craving. she breathed another heavy breath before her weary eyelids closed for a moment of solace.
"answers?" a familiar voice spoke. she looked up, astonished. he hasn't changed except for the obvious aging -- apart from the growing lines atop his forehead, he possessed the same youth she had once burned her aches away with.
"why such a somber color upon the cheek of an ethereal beauty?" a flush of crimson crept upon her cheeks as he seated himself before her.
"wha--i mean why here, why now? what do you have to offer now?" she spoke softly, her lips moving with a rhythmic grace. she waited for the relieving elixir of truth to flow from his slightly parted lips, but all he had to offer was a mysterious smile that captivated her.
she had a striking gaze that perhaps even the sun dimmed against upon being glanced at -- but today her same gaze lost its grandeur, as if the young man before her possessed some power that lessened her own. a thin smile spread across her still lips and she would breathe deeply once more, as if she wanted to capture his fragrance before he could disappear again, leaving his remorseful emptiness behind. the scent of sandalwood and marigolds that adorned the very feet of god filled her nose and then she smiled a sad smile, knowing that this was an irony -- for these holy scents belonged to the person whom she'd both loved and hated the most. the silent pause was odd to her, "he should have something to say of some nature," she consoled herself.
"is your glass half empty or half full?" he finally asked, glancing out the window.
"and why might that concern you?" she asked apathetically, mirroring his actions and glancing out the window, gazing at the grass under the hot july sun, secretly wishing that he'd now profess, finally.
"the quality of being half empty or half full is what makes you either deprived of love or yearn for it." he spoke.
"and maybe this yearning or deprivation isn't what defines me. there are many more emotions to be felt by a heart that fills its emptiness with the rush of blood." she answered thoughtfully.
"and what would you know about the emptiness of this heart of mine?" he asked. "you have no answer, for you choose whether the glass is half full or half empty. but in reality, you'll never know if the glass was once full or if it never was."
"i know the glass was once full. my heart is a witness." she spoke.
"your heart cannot testify."
"if love had a voice, hearts wouldn't break in silence." she whispered. "it's too bad that there is no language for the heart, who knows what it might say."
and just like that, she'd open her eyes from her moment of solace and that was the moment that she'd fallen back together from all the pieces she'd broken herself into. looking over to the seat in front of her, she breathed again, a touch of sandalwood filling the air.
"to the one that got away," she whispered to her cup of tea and sipped, watching the sun disappear into the horizon.