No Music-Just Silence

              I slid into the drivers seat, a soft white leather, and slowly pulled out of the driveway-careful not to knock over the trash cans. I know that you usually take out the trash, but don’t worry, I did it today.
         I’m wearing the outfit you bought me for my birthday--a cherry red blouse and a black lace skirt. I hope you like me in them. They were just what I wanted. At first, I wondered how you knew what to get me. Then I found out you begged my best friend to go shopping with you. I never told you I knew that. I was just happy you tried so hard for me. I hope I make you happy too.
         The driveway where you are is a little empty. I pull into a stop and cut the engine-listening to the silence. Sunlight blares down through the car windows and attempts to warm my skin, but I barely feel it. I open the car door, and step out. My heels click on the gravel, and I close the door softly so as not to disturb anyone.
         The grass around your new home is bright green, and cut short in a neat orderly fashion. I smile because I know that’s just the way you like it. The air has a warm comforting scent of flowers--lavender, honeysuckle, and even lilies.
         I make my way to the footpath. It’s a small walkway with bits of grass growing in the cracks. As I walk, I’m overcome with thoughts of you. It’s been almost a month since I last saw you; felt your calloused hand hold mine, touched your soft lips, or had you hold me close and slow dance with me--even when there was no music playing.
         My heart quickens, and at the same time, feels as if it’s coated in lead and can’t move at all. My legs move automatically to where you are, and I hold my breath. I don’t think I could  have breathed if I tried.
         Then, I see you.
         I lie down in the cool grass next to you and close my eyes. Sweet tears begin to run down my cheeks, and my fingers trace the name on your headstone.