The silence isn't peaceful. Not anymore. Since Alina was diagnosed with progressive hearing loss months ago. It all started with a "What?" every time you spoke a little lower, as the TV was watched at a very high volume, or how she doesn’t laugh at the joke I made, the one she would’ve usually rolled her eyes at.

Alina has been distant, what used to be hours of conversation are now simply quick signs of "I'm fine", even if her eyes say otherwise. The heavy silence, loaded with frustration, guilt and lives that have completely changed.

She no longer hears the approaching footsteps, the click of the door, or the keys being dropped on the small table near the entrance, and what was once her excitedly waiting for you to come home from work. Now it's the same scene, her sitting by the window, same place, same time, watching a silent world, a world she may no longer feel a part of.