4:56, 1:23

4:56 a.m.

THUMP.

My body feels the discordant vibrations ripple through the floor and up the bedframe, into the mattress. I wake. What was that? I ask myself. I am immediately alert, even though I had been sleeping since midnight.

I do not physically make any movement. I sense my pajamas, the sheets, my long hair haphazardly spread over my pillow. My ears strain to hear any out-of-place sound. Nothing. Not even a noise from my black cat, Jasper. I feel the slight sinking of the mattress where he lays near me. I sense nothing else in the bed with us. My eyes wide, they cautiously dart around my studio apartment looking for any unknown shape in the shadows. Nothing.

I do not relax.

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1:23 p.m.

My eyes flutter but they are heavy, weary from a long morning shift at work. The wife is of course busy at her job. Just me in the house, in our bed. Just quietness. It should probably feel more serene. 1:23 p.m. is the last time I see on the digital clock before I fall into oblivion and the sweet release of sleep.

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I lay awake. I only move if I feel the need. When I do move, it is slowly, cautiously, as if someone or something is indeed in my apartment and is simply waiting to spring upon me and, by my quietness, I am trying to somehow outwit them.

Time goes by. There is no real sense of it passing, or not. I float in a strange, dark daze. For some reason, he comes to my mind. Maybe he was in my dreams again. The dark hair. The golden eyes. The smile. Even now, years later, my body reacts. My stomach clenches as if I am suppressing a thousand butterflies. My skin prickles with sparks. My heart thuds against my chest.

I scold myself. That was years ago. What do you think you’re doing? Why can’t you just get over it? Nothing came of it anyway…

I turn my face away from staring at the ceiling. I know, I reply to myself. In my mind, my voice is soft and dejected. Yet, I feel it echoing. It resonates through the empty halls of my mind like the fading thrum of a guitar string.

The vibration of that single note builds more thrumming within me, like there are other instruments in my mind and in my heart, and this note has awakened them. The sensation feels like a reverse ripple effect.

Instead of closing my mind and heart - tuning everything out, as usual - I hesitated for a breath, and I stayed open.

Memories flooded back. Stolen glances. Flickering smiles. Intertwined hands. Eyes like deep, golden pools - the most frightening and most thrilling sight I have ever beheld. Those pools had a unique magic all their own. I wanted to explore those depths even though I was terrified.

I recall the sensation of a gentle kiss, brushing my cheek. Casual. A passing leaf floating by in the breeze.

The warmth flooding through me turns cold. I feel darker inside. My icy voice chides, Did you think it Love? Ha. That’s not what he meant.

Eventually, I take notice that the clock shows I have been awake for a little over an hour. I will have to wake up soon for work, I think to myself. The music inside me stops. A faint voice in my head snickers mockingly. You’re already awake, duh. If the voice had a face, it would have rolled its eyes.

Ignoring that comment, I take control of my body. I get up and out of bed. I do this cautiously, still - the noise from earlier had still not faded from my senses. At this point, I resign to the noise being an eternal mystery. Jasper lifts his head groggily. His eyes open to slits like he is glaring at me.

I stare back at him with a sassy expression. I shrug, as if to tell him, “What? What do you want from me? I can’t sleep for sixteen hours like you do.” Though sometimes I wish I could. My mind wandered back to the memories I purposefully dimmed. Golden pools…

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My nap is so long and deep that I dream. I dream, not surprisingly, of her.

My dream is just me re-living a memory - a mistake - again. Long dark blonde hair. Blue-green eyes like two beautiful lakes, yet oceans deep. They sucked me in like whirlpools. I let them. I would have drowned in them if not for what I did that accidentally broke the spell. I tried kissing her and…I missed. Ha. I just…missed! My luck, I guess. Missing that kiss…that’s not what I meant. I wanted to feel her lips on mine. Just one soft, delicate moment like breathing in the faint but pure scent of a sun-warmed rose. I leaned over and, somehow, I messed up. It was like, right before our lips touched, the universe pulled an illusionist trick and I was kissing her cheek instead of her lips. I feel as if I am doomed for all eternity to repeat this mistake over and over.

Heaviness settles upon me. I hear something. Wailing? Is it her? I wake. It is evening now. The wind shakes the roof and window as it howls mournfully. The wife will be home soon. I better get up.

The rest of the night, I think of nothing else but her.

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4:56 a.m.

I finish my letter. It is handwritten. It is addressed to her. We kept in touch just enough over the years for me to find her mailing address. The letter is all the things I have kept to myself these years, like a bottled chorus yearning to shatter its glass prison. I don’t know what has compelled me to do this, and I don’t care or need to know.

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1:23 p.m.

CLICK.

I shut the metallic mailbox. Mind swirling with all my to-do lists before going back to work after lunch, I do not recognize at first that I have a true piece of mail. I enter my studio apartment and throw the mail on the kitchen counter, like always.

I do a double-take. That looks like a personalized envelope. Could that handwriting be…? I almost tripped over myself getting back to the counter. I snatched the envelope and looked at the return address. My heart stopped. My face flushed. My mind raced. Why would he send me something? What holidays are happening right now? None.

Heart pounding, I realized I could not bear to wait until later to open this. I carefully ripped open the paper holding his words captive.

I read and reread the letter. I stared at it. I read it again.

“This is all I have ever wanted to hear you say,” I whisper.

I softly pull the letter to myself and tenderly hug it against my chest. The letter’s words - his words - play like a beautiful soothing melody in my heart which grows into a joyous chorus ringing through me. I have a realization: Up until this moment, my life has felt like a discord. Holding this note, I feel harmony.