In my text, I had told him that everything worked perfectly with the CIC, that I still had to move Miss Amara’s piano, that I had found his lost harmonica during the move, and that I hoped he was doing well in New York.
He replied the same day, said he was ecstatic to know that his harmonica still lived, and asked if it had been donated somewhere or if there was a chance he’d be allowed to incorporate it into his band.He added that he was glad everything went smoothly with the CIC and thanked me for letting him know.At the end of his message, he wrote that the piano was lucky to be given a new home, and that he hoped I would find myself in its melody.
Find myself in its melody.
I didn’t text back.
I’ve been playing piano.
I kept Miss Amara’s folder of piano sheet music with me, and I recognized all the pieces she had taught me.
Some still stir the same emotions they used to.
I’ve been feeling emotions.
All kinds of them.
Some I had missed.
I said before that I am constantly missingmy people.My small-town.
But now I understand who else I’ve been missing:myself, with my feelings.
And that’s the first person I need to find.
Myself in the piano’s melody.
Chapter 57
Ella
April 28th, 2009
Tuesday
“We never fight,” I tell my friends Philia and Cara during our Skype call, my voice low, fading.
Yesterday, I was on the phone with Bill and told him how much I would love it if we could arrange our lives to spend some weekends here in Evermere.We would come together, make plans by the ocean, and date in the countryside.I said maybe one weekend a month, but when he showed resistance to that option, I suggested one weekend every other month.
He said we would see, and that I could always come on my own whenever I wanted to.I agreed, and nothing was established.“Nothing ever is established.Between us, as a couple,” I said.And he didn’t argue.Instead, to counteract that, he asked me to accompany him to a business dinner with a possible new client.And I didn’t battle it.I said yes.
“There’s the problem,” I tell my friends, losing my voice.“I don’t push it.I don’t dispute.I find myself starting to be honest and then… I give up.”
“And he doesn’t pull you to say what you want to say,” Philia continues my spiral of thoughts, intrigued for me.Maybe she has the strength to fight what I don’t.
“Do you feel that he is not listening to you?”Cara asks, thoughtfully.
It was never a thought that bothered me.We’ve been living together for a year now.We do talk about our lives.And we have spent milestones in our lives together: I’ve shared important discoveries from my research work, and he’s introduced me at his job events to new, valuable clients he personally secured.We’ve celebrated promotions and achievements.
But have we ever gone through a real milestone together?Have we ever faced a challenging situation side by side?Supported each other in loss?In anxiety of the unknown?Unclarity about life?
Has he ever really listened to me — seen me?
“You should also ask yourself, Ella,” Cara says gently, looking at me through the computer screen, “do you believe you listen to him?”
My chest tightens, my face twists in silent question, reflecting.Cara’s words sink in.Have I ever truly seen him?
Chapter 58
