We'll be fine line

1

I remember the sounds of music between nature.

Leaves falling from the trees to finally hear them gently touch the ground and crunch while I walk through the forest, the wind blowing in different directions, creating a soft whistle.

There's also the sound of a jewel-blue stream in the forest, babbling, and burbling, it sprung over the limestone rocks in its way. The sound of water running always seemed so peaceful and beautiful to me, some times at night I made playlists of different water sounds so I could calm the anxiety running through my veins.

You Could also hear different types of birds singing.

Birds trill, sweetly high, the chorus as playful as the birds themselves. With closed eyes, I imagine their music to color, painting stairs in the same way grapevines grow, my favorite songbird was the unofficial national bird of the United Kingdom, the European robin, this bird is a compact songbird and a common sight in many gardens, woodlands, and yards, not just in the UK, but throughout Europe.

They were my favorite not only because of the beautiful songs they sing, but they are known to be solitary and sassy little birds.

Three months ago I took for granted the sounds of music in nature. I thought I was going to hear them forever.

Now I'm stuck in my bed, not even able to hear a person from a short distance, I can still hear the sounds of my voice but nobody else voice.

The only perk of being deaf is that now I can sleep easily no sound disrupts me.

Sudden sensorineural hearing loss (SSHL) is also known as sudden deafness. It occurs when you lose your hearing very quickly, typically only in one ear. It can happen instantly or over several days. The sound gradually becomes muffled or fades away.

The thing here is that it usually happens to elders, people who are 60 years old, and it's supposed to happen only in one ear, not both of them like in my case.

In Middle School, I used to play with my friends would you rather a lot, the question that everyone had a problem with was "would you rather not being able to see again or not able to hear again?", Zayn, my best friend since childhood and I always answered that we prefer to never see again everyone else chose to not hear again.

Zayn and I always had the same answer because we both depended on music so much.

When we were around thirteen, we started with our addiction to music, I mean everyone loves music, but we started to get really into it. Tuesday afternoons we spent 6 hours discussing, genres, rhythms, history, roots. We discussed whether Spotify or record players are better, he is an old soul, so he said record players were better.

"Em the thing you don't understand about vinyls is that the warmth of music arises because they are analog and the depth in records is bigger," Z said to me frustrated because I stand by the posture that the digital age in music is better

Depth in record terms does not mean emotionally deep, depth refers to the greater quality of sound.

"Z, I do understand, but the digital era is so much better, I mean everyone has a chance to upload their music, you can find way much more talent in small artists, besides with Spotify everyone has a platform to share their art," I said with a winning tone 

These types of arguments brought us closer, we were so different but at the same time so similar. He was an old soul y was a new one.

In the 6 years of arguing we never came to a conclusion, and it was better that way because every time we saw each other we had a new argument to apport.

Zayn was one of those guys who failed most of their classes but had so much knowledge, everyone at school thought he was the weird, mysterious, dumb boy, who only had an interest in girls because he wanted to have sex with them.

But they were incorrect he was one of the sweetest and smartest guys I've known. Yes, he failed math every year and had to do summer school every year. But when we had literature, he wrote the most beautiful essays, he brings depth into everything he sees, hears, and reads, it's truly amazing the way he plays with words and turns them into poems.

He's been always so interested in songwriting, he had a beautiful voice that gave you chills even if he is only mumbling a song. His voice has a distinctive tone and texture. His voice is strong, not sound wise but he's able to hold his high notes, he's a Tenor, which is why his high notes are so good.

The only problem is that both of our families were traditional, and of course, they wouldn't allow Z to have a career as an artist. He ended up going to law school, a few hours away from me. He wasn't as miserable as he thought he would be. Like I said before he has a way with words, he knows how to organize them. This helped him so much. He was enjoying writing essays and debating with his classmates, just as much as he loved debating with me.

That made me happy.

We used to spend so much time together, but now that he was away we only spent Saturdays together.

When I lost my hearing I decided that I didn't want to see him ever again, of course, he didn't allow this to happen, he did give me space. But when my mom told him that I was diagnosed with depression, he came home as fast as he could.

I truly didn't want to see him, he reminded me so much of music, and how I would never hear a melody again.

I would never hear his sweet voice again.

Right now he was standing in front of my face, he had a notebook with him, I guess he wanted to communicate with me, and because I haven't had the strength to learn sign language or mouth reading, I had to communicate through paper.

His eyes stared at my broken eyes for a few minutes, suddenly he gives me the notebook

"Hi my little robin, I missed you" I read the beautiful handwriting, that has improved so much throughout the years, he used to have the worst handwriting of all times

He called me robin like the bird, he said that my dreams were as high as the robin fly. and that my voice was delicate and beautiful like the signing of robins.

I guess that nickname didn't make sense now. I was shattered.

My mind doesn't produce dreams like it used to, I guess this is because I live in I constant nightmare. I can't even leave my bed anymore. I haven't moved from this place since I was diagnosed with SSHL, my mom tried everything she could to get me to go to my uni classes, but she knew my answer would be no.

Why should I go anyways? I wouldn't learn anything if I'm not able to hear what the professors say to me.

She started to worry when I didn't even want to eat or shower, that's why she called my psychologist because she thought I was having early stages of dementia, but she told my mom that it was depression and that even with medicine, sometimes all we need is to find ourselves.

I looked at the notebook once again and stretched my arms to the red pen, that was located on my night table next to my bed, I looked at zayn while I wrote in big bold red letters

"GO AWAY"

He didn't look shocked at my angerness, but he didn't leave.

he came closer to me and hugged me as strongly as he could. His embrace felt safe, warm. Don't get it wrong we both know we aren't meant to be together, this was not a romatic hug, it was an ¨I care so much about you¨ hug.

For a few seconds, I didn't move I only felt his arms wrapped around me, he smelled like fresh limes, he has always had this fresh scent to him, but I've never realized how strong it was. It was the kind of smell that made you happy and active, the kind of smell I needed at this moment.

He held me for what it seems ages, he wouldn't let go of me, so I decided to hug him back.

When this happened I suddenly broke down into tears.