I saw you the other day.  You had e-mailed me and I
got all flustered.  I thought I was going to die when
I found a number that said, 'Call me whenever'. 

You were always careless like that.

And like the fool that had scorned you away the week
before, I dialled the phone.  I gave it a day to sit so
that I wouldn't appear too enthusiastic though my hand
was shaking with the rest of my body.

I can't even breathe and I'm just thinking about it.  I
had fallen hard for you.  And like an idiot, you
choose to forget this single fact about me:  I never
forget.

"I know you." I had said while laughing and answering
a question you had asked me.

"Oh yeah, you did," you answered nonchalantly.

I was hurt by that.  You had always made a strange way
of making me feel special yet useless at the same
time. Had you lied to me throughout that whole time
once more?  You didn't know but I was thoroughly
insulted when you replied that way.

Was I loving a memory or the person on the other end?
of this telephone conversation?

Maybe, masochistic as it was, I was doing both.
A dream and the jerk on the line.

"Call me.  Let's go out together." You told me.

You're teasing me again.  And I don't know what to
distinguish this as.  Were you messing with my mind or
my heart?
You were always so good at doing both, you know that?
Of course you do, Dear.

On the street the next day, my fate had killed me.  In
the crowded streets as I was walking off the curb, you
called my name as our eyes met.  I wanted to look away
but then I stood there looking at you mesmerized by
the moment.

I had not seen you for so long that I thought I was
dreaming.

You caught my hand and I found myself wrapping my arms
around your neck. 

"I have to go," you told me with a smile.

But I knew it was sincere.  I know how you wear your
smiles like a trump card that manipulated humanity in
your hands.
Even me, someone you had once loved.

"My friends are going to leave me at this rate," you
said.

"What about me?" I had wanted to say, but instead I
swallowed my pride in the process.

I nodded my head and smiled as always.  "Okay.  Take
care of yourself."

My obsession became like a tear in my palm.  I reached
out to him and took his hand.  I squeezed it as I
watched him become swallowed by the crowd forming once
again between us.

The world always got in the way like that.

"Take care," he answered back.

I turned around with a smile.  But I knew long before
the night was gone, it would turn into a frown and I
would cry in my room as I sat on my bed.

I was left all alone again.

I stood there next to the white sheets of some hotel
room and looked out the window.  Closing the curtains
and ending the beautiful scene below me, I sat on the
bed.

My heart was still burning and my throat was becoming
dry.  This is what happens when your heart is
breaking.

The silence is even scarier.  It's the sound of a
breaking heart.

I smelled shirt I had worn.  It still had your scent
on it.  I didn't want to let it go.  Maybe I will
never wash it.

It's all I have left.  I clenched it as I felt my
blood coming from my hands as my fingernails dug
into my palm even through the leather.

The gloves have your scent too...
Damn these gloves.

I couldn't hold your hands with my fingers no matter
how hard I tried.  I squeezed your hand to feel if you
were there.

You were still cold.
Cold as your heart.

Your warm façade couldn't fool my mind, but my heart
was melting with you.

I shook my head as I took the shirt in my hands and
threw it to the mirror in front of me. 

Cling.  A button had touched the glass surface as the
shirt fell to the ground.

My hands shook violently.  "Why?"

I couldn't look at myself anymore.  I was so ashamed
of myself.

How perfect someone can be until they fall from grace
when they meet the object of their affections?

"I HATE YOU SEISHIROU!" I shouted with all of my
heart.

I then began to cry uncontrollably.  "I hate knowing
that whenever I reach for you, I can touch you...

But I can never catch your heart.  You'll never love
me the way I love you."

I threw the curtains open.  With all my might, I threw
my gloves out of the window.

It was then the next day, on a random path, once more,
though I had cast you off of my soul, you said hello
to me.

You hugged me and I leaned back my head on your chest.

"I'll see you later, Subaru.  I've got to go," you
said.

I caught your hand.  Mine bled with my heart into
yours.

I could feel your fingers.
You squeezed mine back.

I know you don't love me, but how could you cruelly
act like you do?

And yet, how can I masochistically still love you with
all my heart despite everything you've ever done to
me?

To thrust the wound even further, you whisper to my
ear, "I love you...but only as a friend."

Then, you let go and immersed yourself into the crowd
once more.

I stood there unable to breathe.
I couldn't even cry.

We can't even be friends...

Maybe that was just as painful as hearing that you
didn't love me at all.

That day hasn't come yet.
But the silence is just as strong.

That's the sound when your heart is breaking...
Glass shattering on mute.