I'm Not The Only One

There's this feeling - like a candle is quietly burning inside, but it keeps shining because of habit. Her voice trembles like glass, reflecting the hurt within: beautiful, fragile, and useless. There are no scenes here, no loud scandals - just the slow realization that love has ceased to be shared. When someone is still nearby, but no longer with you. And it seems like the words are the same - "baby," "I love you" - but they sound like a false note in a perfectly tuned chord. It's impossible not to hear. It's just that I used to want to believe I had misheard. Now, that the choice was wrong.