Tutored Hearts

All I want is love that lasts The voice in my headphones wraps around me like something soft and something safe. I close my eyes and let the melody carry the words I have never dared speak aloud. I sing them quietly under my breath like a secret I keep even from myself. Is all I want too much to ask. Is there something wrong with me. My voice blends with hers and trembles because I do not know what love that lasts even feels like. I have never known anything that stayed. My fingers tighten around the device. The world beyond this music is sharp and cold and unkind. I know it too well. Then the screaming starts. It rises through the thick gilded doors and seeps into my room like poison. My mother's voice is shrill and cutting. My father's is deep and thundering. Words that mean nothing and everything all at once. Disappointment. Failure. Why can't you be enough. It is always the same. They built this grand house filled with marble and crystal and everything money can buy. Then they filled it with shouting and silence and me standing small and perfect in the middle of it all. I do not flinch. I have learned not to. I have learned to swallow every hurt until I am hollow inside. I have learned that being perfect is the only way to be worth anything at all. Instead I press the volume higher until the music drowns them out completely. Until their anger is just a dull distant hum beneath the guitar strings. I grab my bag and step out into the cool air. I do not look back. No one calls my name. No one notices I am gone. No one ever does. All I want is love that lasts The song loops in my mind as I walk through the misty streets. This house is still my home. I belong here only in body never in spirit. They expect me to be flawless. To stand at the top of every list. To never bleed or break or feel too much. I wear perfection like a heavy coat. It keeps me safe and it crushes me all at once. I am so tired of being what they want. I am so tired of being alone even when people are near. I decide to go to my favorite cafe. The one place where no one asks anything of me. The one place where I can breathe without feeling like I am doing something wrong. I climb aboard the waiting bus and find a spot near the window. One AirPod rests in my ear carrying the only comfort I have left. The other sits safe inside my pocket. Or so I thought. The bus is crowded. Bodies press close. I keep my gaze fixed on the passing trees. I keep my hands to myself. I keep my heart locked tight where no one can see how fragile it really is. Then someone moves past me. He is fast and broad shouldered. He radiates a warmth that feels entirely out of place in my cold world. He bumps into me hard and careless. A fleeting brush against my arm that sends a strange quiet shiver through my skin. I barely register the movement. My mind is still far away tangled in lyrics and shouts and the heavy weight of being me. I do not feel the small thing slip silently from my pocket. The bus slows to a stop. I stand up quickly. My mind is already reaching for the warmth of coffee and quiet. I step off and walk away without a second glance. I walk toward the cafe with only half a song playing in my head. Half a melody. Incomplete. Just like everything else in my life. I reach into my pocket later and my fingers close around empty space. My breath catches. I search everywhere and find nothing. I feel that small loss settle deep inside me just like every other thing I have ever lost and never got back. I do not know where it went. I only know that one half of the only thing that ever understood me is gone. And I will never get it back.