There was a very silent night that the stillness made me deaf. I wanted to scream and ask for help. I wanted to ask for a company but I know that there will be no one to rescue me. I wanted to shout “I am here” to the wall so that somehow, an echo will remind me that I am not and never alone. It felt like drowning, like I was undergoing on a scary nightmare although I really was awake. It was the sound of my heart beat and breeze that gave me the goose bumps. It wasn’t insomnia. It was more of a frustration, a crazy could-have-been.
What is the sound of a sleepless night?
It’s the sound of a silent cellular phone I’ve been waiting all night to beep and ring, the sound of every tick of the clock, reminding me that I have to sleep for my tomorrow although I cannot. It’s the sound of the first unwanted teardrop touching my skin and I’ll notice that after that first one, a second, a third and a fourth runs continuously, like a fountain, like blood. It’s the soundtrack of all the happy memories I am always waiting to repeat. It’s the sound of my breaking heart beat that no one except me can hear. It’s the sound of his whispers that exist only in my playful imagination. It’s the sound of the unmoving door which will never knock by itself.
It’s the sound of the shuffling of his feet to his slippers and to the floor and the trembling of my soul as it hears verbatim “goodbye”. It’s the sound of my breathing, which seems like digging deeper each time. It’s the sound of a sweet sob good night, while dearly and insanely wishing that pillows can hug and rub my back. It’s the sound of my grumbling throat when I choose to swallow my saltiest tear so that he’ll never see. It’s the sound of coins which fell and never reach the wishing well. It’s the sound of a ring which slipped from your finger down to a bridge and down to a waterfall which runs endlessly up to the ends of the Earth. It’s the sound of his assurance that nothing will happen to me although the night is deep and creepy which subsists only on my thoughts.
It’s the sound of a painful rejection you’ve heard from someone special. It’s the sound of a ceramic plate breaking into the kitchen tiles. It’s the sound of clashing champagne bottles only to find out that the bride ran away. It’s the sound of a violin with broken strings. It’s the sound of a deaf dying to tell you something. It’s the sound of an irregular breathing. It’s the sound of a laughing clown and a crying baby. It’s the sound of pounding regrets dominating my brain. It’s the sound of lizards tsktsk-ing for me.
It’s the sound of a restless bird which cries and hides. It’s the sound of eternally pouring rain chasing the poor bird away. It’s the sound of a bat which rejoices in the moonlight. It’s the sound of howling dogs and wolfs while you feel every inch of the warm blanket comforting your weeping. It’s the sound of your voice calling out for someone you know isn’t beside you. It’s the sound of his responses which you know isn’t true.
The sound of a sleepless night isn’t always destructive like a bomb. Sometimes the ultimate catastrophes are somehow like falling leaves of a tree. Sometimes it happened to be that the most silent things are the most deafening. Sometimes it happened to be that the sound of a sleepless night is the crow waking everybody else, while I realize that the sun is already up and I am not yet done emoting. It’s only me who can hear everything.