nakaruki-kushi

[nakaruki-kushi]

I don’t play much anymore.

My piano collects dust in front of the window where we first sang our medley. I remember it. Different piano, different times. The same poster board hangs where pieces of music are taped together to form something more than the sum of its pieces. A story. A desire for more, and what new journeys lie ahead. That was the last normal night.

Now it’s different. Updated piano, updated times. I have a girlfriend now, you’d love her, I think? But the same desire to play isn’t there. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid to go deeper, maybe it’s because my muses are far away. I’m not sure anymore. But I want to want to play again. To sit and create and make music the way I only imagined I could as a kid.

I remember the piano we played and sung at the most. The one that has the flat D note. At the house that was a home for both of us, even though it wasn’t our home. Good piano, good times. Our endearing host would bring his guitar in and accompany us, or play softly in the background to compliment our many conversations. Cold weather brought warm memories, warm weather brought cool vibes, through it all, I thought we’d have forever to get better as musicians and singers, and friends. Now, you’ve probably grown in your singing. My music? Not so much.

The ghosts of those notes have somehow possessed my new piano, each note reminding me of the songs we played. Maybe I need a whole new list of music to play, but it’s hard to not love the songs we shared. It’s as if my thing became our thing, and now…well, it just feels like your thing. A tomb I scarcely enter for fear of the specter within. But music still rings in my heart, and though painful, I must reconsider that place within myself that yearns to write and create something different, something more sacred than what was. This piano is good, great even, and it won’t fade away in my room as you have in my heart. New piano, new times.

[nakaruki-kushi]

I hate the way I am…I hate what it has cost me..

[nakaruki-kushi]

I thought the hole would fill by now.

I thought your ghost would dissipate as the days, months even, passed on. As your face became further and further away and you drifted from “is” to “was”. That’s how this works, right? You left, consumed with anger. I leave and life goes on.

But it’s not.

Not a day passes that you aren’t in my mind. Something that you’d love, a song you’d enjoy, a moment you would double over laughing. I still can’t find the strength to remove you from my world, because I hope you’d make a return one day and my world would be right-side up again. I hate that you weren’t even a lover, because it would be easier. No, you’re just the best damn friend I could ever have. How could someone so small leave such a gaping hole?

I feel anger and sadness tearing at me like vultures ripping at a carcass. Both feel justified and yet unwarranted. Maybe this is just life now. This fond memory followed by a deep longing and pain.

[nakaruki-kushi]

Why can’t you get out of my head? You broke every part of my heart and soul by breaking your word. Isn’t that victory enough for you? But now the ghost of you follows. The thought of you never dies. I sat in a mall today and couldn’t help but think how much you would’ve loved it. I saw a mirage of us trying gelato and buying boba.

It’s not enough to say you’re on my mind; you’re in my mind, permeating my thoughts. I can’t get you out. How could roots go that deep in two years and then be ripped away so unceremoniously?

#5am thoughts #when will you fade?

[nakaruki-kushi]

I hope you’re well.