Piano Lessons

I met Clara two years ago; we had a great friendship; we shared a lot of common interests and hobbies.

She is the most inspiring, enthusiastic person I have ever known. On weekends we would always sit by the edge of the street and we would start talking endlessly about our biggest dreams and desires.

We had rules for these talks; we didn’t just randomly rant. We talk as if we are already chasing our dreams, as if we are already on our way to reaching them.

Nothing felt better than those calm nights, the fresh breeze in the air, the smell of the food coming out of the neighbors’ chimneys.

I told her: “I have always dreamt about being a famous pianist, from when I was young. There is something that is so magical about the piano. There is something about it that always makes me happy.”

She was surprised by that, because she was attending a music academy to learn the piano. I told her that I never got the chance to buy a piano or to attend an academy. So she decided to teach me the piano on the weekends and practice in front of him on the weekdays.

We had a lot of fun together. and when days get tough, we would leave the pain to the piano.

We have been friends for more than two years. I love spending time with her so much.

On the last day, Clara told me that her family was preparing to move into another town. She tried to convince them to let her stay here with me, but they refused. It is hard to say goodbye to someone like her but I had to.

She moved to another town, so we don’t see each other anymore, but I still have memories of her walking me around town when I and my family first moved in.

When I play the piano, I feel like I am traveling into another dimension. A dimension that no human being and no other creature have ever visited. A colorful world full of love and sweet unspoken words, full of warm emotions. I am in a world where my true self is dancing freely to the beat of music. In this world I can be fully and authentically myself.

They are hosting the biggest annual piano contest in our town again. Part of my night routine is walking around town, visiting my favorite cafe and then taking a final walk around the big building. The building where the biggest music contests are held.

I felt so small standing in front of the building. In doubt, I started picturing myself as the biggest and the most famous female pianist of the future. But the passion inside my heart burns stronger than any doubt or fear

I told myself: “It’s only a matter of time until you are in the middle of the stage, communicating with others through music, through the language that everyone understands”.

There wasn’t a better way to motivate myself, than enjoying a warm cup of tea while listening to the piano playing in the background.

There was a talented guy who played the piano in the cafe. I really loved listening to him. I wish I had the confidence to sit there and put my hands to work.

A month has passed since I first started visiting the cafe. I practiced hard at home and I can see my performance improving slowly over time.

Today I went to the cafe as usual wondering what song he would play, but he wasn’t there. I asked the staff about him, but they seem to have no idea.

I went to the cafe the next day too, and the piano set was still empty; the place felt gloomy without the beautiful rhythms he plays on the piano. Even though it was full of life. Laughs and people, to me it felt this way.

I kept going to the cafe during the next four weeks, and now it really feels gloomy. The empty seat, the dusty piano.

I don’t stay long at the cafe nowadays. I went back home to my room and I started recalling the music he used to play. I screwed up multiple times, but I kept trying until I finally came up with something. I played a full song today for the first time. I thought to myself: “uh, what a relief?” Now I can call it progress.

As the contest was approaching, I stopped visiting the cafe and I spent my days practicing day and night. I rarely stepped out of my room.

After a few days have gone. I started going out again, but this time the first place I went to was the bridge side.

As I walked in the park near the lake, I thought to myself: “my big day is knocking on the door. Tomorrow I will go to pursue my dreams, tomorrow I will go for a different journey, a journey that I have been postponing on and on but not anymore.”

For a while, I couldn’t keep my positive spirit up; my anxiety was taking over again. My thoughts were trying to kill me; self-doubt was creeping in. I kept thinking of the worst scenarios possible. What if I get rejected? What if I lose rhythm in the middle of the show? The What-Ifs are no longer serving my purpose, so I prayed to god to give me the courage to move forward.

I sat by the bridge, hiding my face with my hands, and I burst into tears. I sat there for a while, but then I felt someone’s hand grabbing mine. I opened my eyes to him. I opened my eyes to the guy from the cafe, holding a little napkin and smiling at my face.

He then whispered: “let it out, cry all you want. I am here for you to lean into me.” I cried even more. He then said: “I saw a beautiful smile on your face whenever I played the piano. Your smile gave me the strength to continue doing what I do.”

I was so happy to hear that, and at that moment my painful tears turned into happy smiley tears.

I said: “I want to be a pianist too; let’s do this together.” He said: “Yes. Let’s do this together because you’ll never know unless you try”.

Culled from blog.reedsy.com by A

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