Just by looking at me, you may not believe I’m capable of love. But I am: I loved her.

I loved the way she brought me everywhere. School, jogging, shopping, studying, it didn’t matter. I was always there by her side, inseparable. She had me in the palm of her hand.

I played music for her. Anything she wanted, whenever she wanted it. Sometimes she would sing along, and that made me very happy. She never sang in front of anyone else, but that was the way I liked it.

On the rare occasion, she would dance to my melody. Those were the best times, because then I got to hear her bright laughter, and see that stunning smile. She would say, It’s such a catchy beat, and I would think, It’s my heartbeat.

Then there were some days when she felt sad, or down. She held me close as I lulled her to sleep. My voice was her only comfort in the darkness. I was her shield, her escape from the world for a while.

She always spoke of meeting that one person. The one who would stop her tears, the one who would think she was beautiful, the one who would accept her for who she was. The one who would love her. And I wanted to say, I’m right here. Right here in front of you. But I never did.

Too bad I didn’t have arms, because I wanted to hold her tight. Too bad I couldn’t speak, because I wanted to make her smile. Too bad I couldn’t play an instrument, because I would serenade her all day long. Too bad I was only her iPod.