How We Lost Ourselves Amongst The Sound Waves

I've gotten used to the silence that echoes off the walls in the absence of your voice. The world is an entirely different place when I cannot reach you. We started off as strangers across a room, but I have to tell you it was your voice that drew me in. Now I dread that one day you'll pick up the phone and tell me all of those things I don't wanna hear, and withold from me all the things I do. In a time soon to come, your voice will become unrecognizable, and to you mines will no longer matter, I figure that your phone lines will be far too filled with sweet nothings and mindless chatter from your many suitors. Soon we'll dissipate amongst the waves and become a memory or a mere twinkle in the eye of the many "on lookers" that witnessed the shortest lived courtship known to man. We'll go about our merry ways, as our feelings are washed away like mere grains of sand, without leaving so much as a trace of rememberance.

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