Mary Without Sound
I Shut My Mouth and Walk Away From the Memory Game: 1
5. I Found a Letter
It’s been over a year since I’ve spoken a word to anyone.
I know, I know.
You want to know why, you want to know how – it’s okay.
Everyone does.
I’ll tell you the last thing I said –
It was “I’ll miss you.”
It was the last time I saw my brother, and that’s all you need to know about that.
How, you want to know now?
It’s easy.
I won’t lie; some days are easier than others.
Besides, it turns out not everyone’s an asshole.
It turns out most people will go out of their way to accommodate you.
People like Matt.
But speaking of Matt, it’s weird to be here, in Matt’s apartment without Matt.
It’s quieter than usual.
No bass playing, him watching his dumb tv shows, or anything.
Sometimes I get lonely.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Dear Mary,
I feel so stupid writing this. Today’s the second day of tour. Tour’s…tour. I don’t know if you’ve ever been. Everyone else is doing something at least semi-productive. And I’m…talking to paper. Probably boring you to death. If you’re reading this, anyway.
Fuck. I’m lame.
Since I’m practically handing you my dignity on a plate anyway, here goes.
I guess I’ve been kind of lonely lately.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this.
Maybe I’m just hoping you feel the same.
Do you?
Is that why you don’t talk?
Ah, never mind. I’m just being nosy. Don’t worry; Justin refuses to tell me anything about you.
Maybe you’ll tell me everything yourself one day.
Oh, and don’t feel like you have to respond or anything.
Even better: do me a favor and burn this letter after, and we can pretend I never wrote it?
-Matt
-x-x-x-x-x-
I feel like I’m intruding when I open the door to his music room.
Even though he never said I couldn’t come in here again.
I’ve given up on trying to examine every single record in his collection. He has too many.
I pick out a few randoms to inspect and then make sure to put them back in their right place.
He seems to have some sort of weird filing system I haven’t figured out yet.
I sigh, bored.
There’s a shiny bass in the corner, all by itself.
He’d taken his other two on tour with him.
I hesitate before I take the last one from its stand and sit on the floor with it in my lap.
I run my fingers over the frets and thick stings.
In a weird kind of way, I miss him.
It’s been over a year since I’ve spoken a word to anyone.
I know, I know.
You want to know why, you want to know how – it’s okay.
Everyone does.
I’ll tell you the last thing I said –
It was “I’ll miss you.”
It was the last time I saw my brother, and that’s all you need to know about that.
How, you want to know now?
It’s easy.
I won’t lie; some days are easier than others.
Besides, it turns out not everyone’s an asshole.
It turns out most people will go out of their way to accommodate you.
People like Matt.
But speaking of Matt, it’s weird to be here, in Matt’s apartment without Matt.
It’s quieter than usual.
No bass playing, him watching his dumb tv shows, or anything.
Sometimes I get lonely.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Dear Mary,
I feel so stupid writing this. Today’s the second day of tour. Tour’s…tour. I don’t know if you’ve ever been. Everyone else is doing something at least semi-productive. And I’m…talking to paper. Probably boring you to death. If you’re reading this, anyway.
Fuck. I’m lame.
Since I’m practically handing you my dignity on a plate anyway, here goes.
I guess I’ve been kind of lonely lately.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this.
Maybe I’m just hoping you feel the same.
Do you?
Is that why you don’t talk?
Ah, never mind. I’m just being nosy. Don’t worry; Justin refuses to tell me anything about you.
Maybe you’ll tell me everything yourself one day.
Oh, and don’t feel like you have to respond or anything.
Even better: do me a favor and burn this letter after, and we can pretend I never wrote it?
-Matt
-x-x-x-x-x-
I feel like I’m intruding when I open the door to his music room.
Even though he never said I couldn’t come in here again.
I’ve given up on trying to examine every single record in his collection. He has too many.
I pick out a few randoms to inspect and then make sure to put them back in their right place.
He seems to have some sort of weird filing system I haven’t figured out yet.
I sigh, bored.
There’s a shiny bass in the corner, all by itself.
He’d taken his other two on tour with him.
I hesitate before I take the last one from its stand and sit on the floor with it in my lap.
I run my fingers over the frets and thick stings.
In a weird kind of way, I miss him.
♠ ♠ ♠
Dedicated to dorkosaur. : D