Sunday, September 08, 2013

The Piano

She has been sitting here for almost three years untouched.

Waiting.

I could not bring myself to touch her, to lose myself in her warm rich sounds, with fingers flying across her body, discovering new areas of mystery there.

Such beauty in that body, and always the desire to possess it, but with my life unsettled I always thought to wait, wait, wait, until I had settled down again. Then I could take up where I had left off.

Three years.

Three years.

There is not a spec of dust on her. I've kept her well, made sure she was cleaned when I was away, but I had not touched her myself.

When I decided I was coming back to the States, one of the first things I decided was that I must play again. The first night home, looking at that piano, seeing it... I opened the lid and let my fingers slide across the keys and I could feel this chill, this realization of how long it has been.

During my jet-lagged Thursday I found everything I needed to get her in proper working order and sat down on the bench. I opened the lid again and just put my hands on the keys. My fingers were shaking, everything was shaking, there was such emotion there. I've forgotten how I pour my emotion out onto the keyboard, how I let all the bad things go into the harp hidden in a box. This was where I found stability, a place to shelter myself from pain, even from my own self loathing. When I was younger I would lose myself for hours in the keyboard, the only sense of belonging I had was in an old, untuned piano; a shelter from the many storms of my youth. In college, too, I had followed the moving piano around, tuned or untuned, I'd find it. Hidden in the back of the gym, or posted in an office building, or silently sequestered into a classroom building. I would sneak in to buildings at two a.m., sit at the keyboard in the dark and play my worries away for hours. Once I looked up from the keyboard and my fingers hurt. There was a dim light in the room and I realized I was bleeding.

Music has always been my fastest friend, and the Piano was always my first and best lover. It listens to my heart, hears me, interprets my soul, and comes back at me, so raw, pure and honest and when it is done I know the shakes will lesson and there will be pieces of my psyche back in place, in check, suddenly whole.

I don't know how or why I let it go this long. It has been too long.

I put my trembling fingers on the keys and I let go into the warm embrace that is my emotion in the vibration of the air.

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