I’ve been wanting to write this pieve for a while. It’s a bit complicated. So bear with me as I put these intricate, maybe even convoluted thoughts onto metaphorical paper.

In the realm of soul-searching melodies, there’s a saxophone riff that resonates with the echoes of guilt and loss. Ah, “Careless Whisper,” a song that digs deep into the caverns of vulnerability, weaving a tapestry of emotions with its haunting notes and guilt-ridden lyrics.

Lately, I’ve been caught in the deeply-moving clutches of this melody, its whispering saxophone invoking a dance with memories and a confrontation with the shadows of loss. I suppose this became an earworm after I watched the Wham! Documentary. And in this bittersweet earworm serenade, my mind wandered to a pair of earrings – a relic of the past, a treasured gift from someone now gone.

Picture this: a set of earrings with a story, a silent memoir etched in every curve and glimmer. These earrings are beautiful and perfect. They were the perfect gift from over a decade ago. And, I have never stopped treasuring them. Misplaced for a while, they became more than mere accessories; they became a symbol of a connection severed by the hands of time. When I finally found these heartbreaking gems, a surge of conflicting emotions embraced me.

It’s been almost a year since I last wore these delicate pieces. Not out of disregard, but out of fear – the fear of losing them once again, as if losing them would be a betrayal to the one who gave them life. It’s as if the earrings themselves are a melody, and wearing them is akin to dancing with the echoes of a love lost.

The saxophone riff in “Careless Whisper” mirrors the complexities of this emotional tango. The haunting melody is a reminder of the unspoken words and the weight of a secret that lingers in the air. Much like my earrings, carefully tucked away in a velvet box, their glimmer untouched by the world.

The vulnerability of this song parallels the delicate dance I find myself in – to wear or not to wear, to risk the possibility of loss or to preserve the memory in a velvet box. It’s a silent struggle, a poignant reflection of the way we grapple with the tangible remnants of those we’ve lost.

For now, the earrings remain tucked away in their velvet sanctuary, waiting for the day when the dance resumes, and their silent melody graces my ears once more.