I want to describe you to people. I want to paint a picture of you so that when I talk about you others know exactly who you are. To say you were beautiful inside and out does not seem like enough. I don’t want to claim that you look like an actor who had a popular television sitcom in the eighties. Even though I would watch his movies to feel close to you when we lived far apart. It would not do you justice. And it would only spark his image when I speak of you. No. That’s not you. You are so much more.
Today I listened to Debussy’s Clare de Lune. It was a piano arrangement…no strings…no orchestra. I stopped what I was doing to sit down and listen. It starts out so simply…so sweetly. It was like a kiss. And as the complexity of the piece grew so did my interest. I wanted to hear every bit of this story. My heart opened up and I wanted everyone to hear what I heard and to feel what I felt. There were amorous notes and tragic chords. It lifted me and transcended me out into the open air. And I floated there dreaming of things I had no real knowledge of…like a child. My world had been illuminated. And as the music wound down I drifted slowly back to earth…landing as if I was a feather. Gliding gently to the left then the right until my soft touchdown. The final notes whispered goodnight and I almost felt your nose touch my neck.
Tears flowed quietly at the end because I was so touched by its beauty…and because I miss you. I wanted to tell everyone you were here. I wanted everyone to experience what I just knew…their hearts to be born and break all at once. That is how I want people to see you. That is what I want people to think of when you are mentioned.
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