Why Can’t I Remember What You Sound Like?

I have imaginary conversations with other people in my head all the time, and I can hear their actual voices during their half of the dialogue, but I don’t know that everyone’s brain works that way.

I do this because I like to think through what-ifs, explore alternative scenarios to things that actually happened, and play out possible future conversations to help me prepare. I’m not always good “in the moment” so I think these things help me remember what I’d like to say.

And hearing a loved one’s voice is an incredibly intimate experience that feels like I’m connected to an irreplaceable part of them. It’s like a lifeline to the past.

So because I can hear my conversation partner’s actual voice in my head, with all their nuances, rhythms, idiosyncrasies, the way their voice changes when they smile or laugh, I get a lot of comfort and satisfaction from these conversations.

But there is a person in my life, whom I know well, whose voice doesn’t exist in my mind. I cannot understand why this is. It is bizarre and distressing to me. So that’s what this poem is about.

Why Can’t I Remember What You Sound Like?

I can’t remember what you sound like.

I cannot hear your voice in my head
Yours, specifically.

I hold imaginary conversations with all kinds of people
And I can hear everybody’s actual voice
Except yours.

Why can’t I remember what you sound like?

I’ve talked to you thousands of times in my head
Except I do most of the talking
Your contribution is just bits and pieces, a word or two here or there
Employing a generic substitute voice that I know isn’t real or true

I cannot, for instance, close my eyes and hear you reading me a poem
In your own voice
Because I do not know your voice.

Maybe your particular cadences and nuances are buried deep in my brain
Locked away for a reason I cannot begin to understand.

It doesn’t make any sense at all
I spent years of my life with you
So why can’t I remember what you sound like?

I wish you could be here with me so I could plead:
Please talk to me, just speak, about anything at all
While I get over the shock
Of you sounding like a stranger.

I will listen as hard as I’ve ever listened
And insist that my failing brain set itself aflame
To burn your pitch, your tone, your rhythm into my memory
It doesn’t even matter what you say

Tell me your name and where you were born
Tell me what you had for breakfast
Tell me the story of when you first saw me
Tell me you love me
Tell me that I’ll always be in your memories
That you remember MY voice.

But of course, for so many reasons, it is too late for that.

And I can’t remember what you sound like.