Never once had I played the cello.
I thought the violin sounded much more lovely.

And then I saw you.
No... I heard you.
Such a mysterious sound.
Inviting.

You drew me in with your tunes of promise.
You tempted my loneliness with a single flick of a string.

When I cried... your music was my lullaby.
The sound of your tune, no matter how made up it was...
For one meaningless moment, I was safe.

And even in this crowded world.
The busy streets, and the panics of my heart..
You wrapped yourself around me.

You became so much more than just strings.

I noticed how smooth your body was.
And what I thought was a hollow inside, held a heart.
And as I listened to it beating, I knew that's when it would all fall apart.

Because a cello, it has to put on a show.
A cello requires an audience, not one person alone.
So the music that quickly became home to me, could never be mine you know.

The cello it now haunts me.
It sounds sad and brings tears to my eyes.
The strings, they now feel lonely.
The sound, I almost despise.

But the music my cello played for me...
I'll try not to let it tear me apart.
I may not know what love is,
But music is a piece of art.

You can learn a lot about a person just by looking at their hands.

Is the skin picked off, do scabs and blood surround the nails?

Are their fingernails bitten down so much that small slivers of blood show atop each one, where nail should be?

These small indicators can point toward anxiety, and troubling lives. You should always remain respectful, because you don't know what a person is going through.