that complex thing called life

sometimes the silence gets so loud it's deafening. i hastily mumble something just to break the discomfort. but it's the rare times when i can sit in soothing silence, consumed by my own thoughts and he in his. or when we let the music do the talking. sometimes we sing along lost in our own little worlds, completely at ease with each other's presence, hands intertwined but dreams elsewhere. that's what i call the one in a million.