White Noise

By: Audrey Yeung

Stop that. Stop that. God, do I have to do everything around here? Focus on me. There you go. Go on, wipe your tears, tell me your grievances. Tell me all the ways in which you’ll never fall in love again. We both know you’ll do it anyway. Put on your favourite TV show and meet me on the couch. We can rot here tonight, and it’ll be okay. I always hated that character, but for some reason, he was your favourite. I tried to warn you, didn’t I, but you never listened. How was I supposed to put it in words when all I am is background noise? Come on, don’t cry now. I’m here now, aren’t I? I was never one for physical touch, but you were always the exception. 

And when you came home tonight, I knew something was wrong. You left the keys hanging loosely in the door, so they fell, and I had to go pick them up. Then, you threw your bag onto the kitchen floor, and I could hear you crying in the bathroom. I’m sure you felt better that you couldn’t really tell apart the tears from the shower. When you came back outside, you didn’t spare me a look. I asked if you were okay, and you didn’t respond. You turned off the lights but didn’t go to bed, and you said something about how the lights were ‘too much’. You weren’t really talking to me, but we live alone. You sat on the floor just centimetres from the couch, which made hardly any sense and buried your face in your hands. Your phone buzzed, and you jolted. I recognised the contact, and I expected a smile from you, like usual. I expected you to grab your phone and text back immediately, but this time, you barely glanced at the phone before tossing it aside. I’m not selfish, I’m really not, and I know when you need someone else. So I flipped over your phone and nudged the tissue box over to you. 

You laughed just now, at the TV. That’s a good sign, right? I never knew how to appreciate comedy, but if it made you smile for the first time since you came home, it must be pretty alright. Your tears taste a little like salt, but go on and let the waves crash onto the shore. We can wipe them away later. Focus on the TV, focus on me. Forget about him. Your phone keeps buzzing, and I tried to distract you. Look at me! Listen to the sitcom in front of you! You’re getting distracted; this is good. If I could, I would make you hot chocolate with the marshmallows that you like, but I can only do so much. Come on, follow me to the kitchen. Don’t worry, I can go without food for a little longer, you don’t have to remember yet. Look, it’s the hot chocolate that you like to make when you’re feeling sad. You wiped your tears away with your arm and started making the chocolate. I watched you stir in the marshmallows, waiting patiently before following you back to the couch. Do you feel better? I leaned into you, and you leaned back. The lights are still off, and your eyes start to catch up. It’s ok, you can sleep. Do you dream like I do? Reliving the moments of today, as if I don’t remember them? I hope you don’t relive today, for your sake. Dream of other things, and when you wake up, I’ll still be here. I’ll wake you up gently in the morning, nudge you with my nose so you know it’s time to feed me, and you’ll tell me I’ve been a good cat. You’ve been alright yourself, so go on, listen to my white noise, and dream of nicer things. 

Rationale: Feelings are complicated and hard to deal with, and people are overwhelming and even harder to be around, but animals have only altruistic intentions when they sense a change in our emotions. I wanted to hone in on that from their point of view.