I hated whistling. i hated the sound, when it happened, everything. i didn't know how to do it. it frustrated me. you constantly did it. at first i was mad about it because instead of hearing your voice i had to hear your whistle. its a funny thing how quickly minds can change. because you used your voice for everything, everyone. you never whistled around anyone. you told me you were bad at it. when we walked you whistled and i hummed and that was enough. because words became tangled in our throats. and sentences lingered in the air. so you whistled and i smiled. i asked if you could teach me. you are not a very good teacher, or maybe im not a good listener. because when you told me to press my lips together i was just thinking of how much i wanted our lips to be pressed together.

i whistle all the time now