Strumming the Violin

She was lovingly bent on her old violin, it has been a long time since she practiced.  She polished the wood and powdered the strings.  Holding it so softly, she laid it lovingly on her pillow, and covered her eyes to sob, to quietly sob.

Her bed, as usual was unmade, her hair was tied up with the shorter tresses curled and out of the band. She looked in the mirror and saw her reflection, unruly bed hair, pale face, pink puffed cheeks and red eyes. Her silky short nightgown was wrinkled, and the strings of the right shoulder sleeve were laying aside on her arm.

She washed her face, lingering with the amount of cold water she splashed it with, and smiled quietly to the face she saw in the mirror. What else can she do! - She thought, what to do other than smile and try to lock her heart’s guard again? It was her fault to let it loose, her fault to vividly imagine she is loved or cared for.

She has protected herself for years and years, became a machine when it comes to the love affairs of her heart.  She is an intensely passionate person, but she locked her heart, and diverted her passion towards people she loved, people she is so close to, people she worked with, and people she just see in pictures.  She adored everyone and everything, literarily everyone and everything. She lit up when heard a heartily laugh, cried when saw a hidden tear, and felt the burn of a pained body.  But, she was a machine, with her mind in control of her heart, protecting herself from the hurt she once had felt, shielding it from the burning tears she once sobbed. For years, she taught herself to be alone to do everything alone, and within days, she lost all that she learned.  Within days, she met a half that held the other corner, and she willingly let him take it.  For years she couldn't sleep like how people do, and yet, with him here she slept, as if the noises in her head weren't there, because he was there with her on his shoulder."

And here she is again, covering her eyes and mouth to stop the tears and quieten the sobs… She let her guard loose, she let her heart out, and gave in to him.  Knowing what will come, she was cautious at first, but the emotions that she hasn’t felt for all these years, overwhelmed her mind, and clouded her machine like routine. She loved him, like no other way, she surrendered everything she was to him.  

How can she explain, the ocean of calmness within her that she felt when with him, the warmth that was radiating from her when with him, the kindness that matched hers she saw in him, her unspoken thoughts and observations pronounced loudly with his voice.  How can she explain how beautiful and elegant she felt with him, how can she explain how she was so bright, that for the first time in years she saw herself as others see her. 

She loves him, misses him, wants him, yet she knew what was coming. One day has passed, two, a week, and three, and her longing for him is the same.  

She looked at her violin and strummed with her trembling fingers its strings… she strummed and strummed, as if they will get her older rhythm back.  She strummed and strummed, as if these chaotic tones will somehow reorganize her thoughts into the randomness she once had. She strummed and strummed to focus her mind into finding the lock that was lost…

She was still strumming, when her cat napped on her lap and her mum sadly and quietly closed the door on her yet again, anguished daughter…