SONGS from a PIANO

The auditorium looks ghostly, just the way you like it.

It’s almost eight and I know in a while I would hear your songs again. Isn’t it funny, I don’t even know what those melodies are called, but just like you said in our Humanities class, music does communicate better when it’s left nude, I need not hear a word to understand that you have a heart that keeps many secrets, the music you play is enough.

I can still remember that day when you said that, you were seated at the back of the room, denim pants, white shirt and glasses on, you were like the coolest nerd I have ever seem. You were one of those guys, the ones whom I love to listen to in class, the ones that are so mysteriously sexy, sort of.

Since my past relationship, I have never fallen this deep – writing you letters for me to keep, watching you from afar, dreaming of holding your hands. Ah! You’re the biggest joy and pain that my heart had. But I know our situation, you, Adrian Chen, are a university jock, you’re one of those guys that girls here would go crazy for. And I am out of that league, probably nobody to you. We attended the same high school though, but aside from that, I have no other connection with you.

Kaya naman, for almost a month now, I have been doing this. It’s quite pathetic but lurking here at the backstage seems better than watching you play in front of a large audience, your songs here seem more real, more conversational, more meant besides I think there are some songs that you only play here.

These were the thoughts running on my head when I heard that voice, that familiar voice.

‘I would like it better if you stop lurking here, there’s a chair near the piano, I don’t mind having company’

For a moment, or maybe longer, I was speechless.

You know I watch you practice? – was my smartest response.
Damn, I just admitted my crime.

‘Since day one’

Crap! He knows, since day one, that I have been sort of stalking him? My, my, I just want to melt and disappear. But I had to face the situation, and him. I stood and turned around, faced him, who to my surprise was smiling, childlike – a rare thing.

But before I was able to say something, he took my hand. Adrian took my hand! I was breathless.

‘I need no explanations’ – ¬was the only thing he said before he offered me a seat, and played.

I was head over heels. He played ‘I will’ a Beatles classic, a song dear to my heart, a song though which I have never heard from him before.

I have a confession to make. – he said after the song.

To me? I asked.

Yes to you.

You know me? – was my confused response.

Since day one – he smiled, and looked at me in the eyes.

What do you mean? What’ is it you have to, err, confess?

He took a paper out of his pocket, looked at me and started to read.

The paper looked familiar, and I have known why when he started to read.

My T-shirt Guy,

Forgive me for looking at you, from afar.

Forgive me for dreaming of holding your hands.

Forgive me for loving you, hopelessly loving you…

He was not able to finish because I grabbed it off his hands. It was a blog post, at a blog that only my closest friends know, friends I know are not friends with him. Damn, I was really melting then; my eyes were befriending the floor already when he held my face.

Look at me.

I am not good with words, he said, that’s why I play the piano to say things. I play my songs here, where no one hears, where the one I have wrote it for isn’t around. Because just like you, I made sure I would not really be heard. But I was wronged, you were wronged. You have heard my songs, just like I have found your blog.

Confused, I whispered ‘I don’t get it.’ 

Before I fainted, I heard him say –
Gab, I was looking at you first, from afar.