I stumble through my day completely dead, answering people only when necessary and in the tersest way possible.

I was fine, I hadn't cried or cut or anything. I was doing good.

But then as I sat at my desk typing quickly and quietly something made my skilled hands go slack. 

N-No, not the song. It isn't playing, you're just hearing things. Snap out of it, snap out of it!

Tears filled my eyes instantly, and my hands started to shake slightly.

"Say something, I'm giving up on you..."

"I'll be the one if you want me to."

"Anywhere, I would've followed you,"

"Say something, I'm giving up on you..."

I couldn't stop it, hot fat tears pour down over my cheeks and I just sat there staring at nothing or no one.

That was our song. My heart clenched uncontrollably and tears ran down my throat to my white button up, making the fabric turn translucent. The intercom sang out softly making me choke down a pitiful sob.

No one was in the office, except me, considering how late it was. No one comes to work at 8:00 p.m. on a Saturday. Unless of course, they had no family or no will to live. 

"And I will swallow my pride..."

"You're the one, that I love, and I'm saying goodbye."

The piano and sad strung out voices made my breathing become erratic, it's going to shred me apart. 

"Say something, I'm giving up on you."

"And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you..."