Oh. My. God.

Where the hell have you been? You were hiding just inside the everyday normality of my story. When I first realized the waves you made on my shore I felt like I must learn how to play the piano just to replicate the pace my heart would get to every time I’m near you.

The comfort I get from being around you is like listening to music you never heard but adore the moment it comes on. You are like a song that everyone knows the words to. A modern-day Bohemian Rhapsody, a recapture of American Pie.

Not a long long time ago, I will never forget that your music would make me smile. Your words touch me deep inside, there won’t be a day this music dies. I know I don’t have a chevy but the levee’s not dry.

I struggle to grasp the concept of composure when the thought of you wakes me up in the morning. I drape my arm over my wishes of you being there. It’s not just love, it’s fantasy. Fantasy like the words lost in the winds between us, making me clutch the lyrics of a song that I want to sing for you.

I guess what I want to say is this, you are heard. I swear that the walls inch closer every time you speak just so they can listen to your voice more closely. The melody echoes off every surface, ever enchanting, promising me that if I stay silent I just might hear what beautiful sounds like.

Maybe I’ll never learn how to play the piano, I know that the keys to happiness are strung across the seemingly growing distance between possibility and reality. Because the fact of the matter is, I don't know how to play any instruments. But I promise that I will always dance to the music I hope you’ll play for me.