SS: Composing a Symphony and Not a Jingle

E: "What are you looking for?"

JNET: "Truth... True Love"

I've never had a confidant; a someone to share my every day thoughts with. Ever....

Ever...ever... ever. And I never craved that type of audience. Being happy with my life never entailed a captured or captivated witness. A full life is difficult to unload every day plus the given divine moment is sacrificed.

Every person who's known me from birth knows that I am as happy catching up with a friend once a week as the person I catch up once a year and that I take no offense if time stretches longer than that. If I need to work out my thoughts, I rarely run to a friend.

I work out my thoughts alone, at the piano bench, at my yoga practice, in my writing. And then I go to my friends to let them know of my plans of how I intend to handle the situation. At that point I have rehearsed scenarios in my mind in how I would like my life to play out.

I am an introvert that finds fuel in the silence of life that practices understanding emotional noise. A musican interpreting myself through patterns of tempos and dynamics and writer who pens that path I walk.

Where in this life of mine is there need for a confidant? I work out things alone and trust things to be in their rightful place. I watch people try to possess one another, sharing secrets in serial official and un-official relationships only to have chunks of great memories and a lost friend archived to banished parts of their own soul.

That's what many people do to their lost loves. Losing pieces of their selves.

I couldn't deal with a piano bench full of unfinished music. Or pieces of songs where pages have gone missing. And a bench of one pager children's songs will drive me batty from boredom and being unchallenged.

So I am a bit surprised that Life has given me a confidant not because I need one but simply to have one. And I am a bit surprised because I have others who beg for a chance to know my daily thoughts (and then some) that inspire me to further seek solitude and give them theirs.

But, I have someone here who is actually listening to my silence and is not a muddle of propositions trying to mold me. And I am especially surprised that I am enjoying it despite the imperfections and awkwardness. He makes himself welcome to my world.

Last night, I had a moment where I just stared at him and didn't know what to say... And I felt better when I got that he didn't mind the silence and that he wasn't chasing to fill it with something. He was happy.

No matter how far I have gone to show him the door, told him I'd be happy to have him in the audience if he'd prefer to give up being first chair, he's insisted to that he can read my music. He keeps surprising me...

Can he take on the cadenza, I wonder?

JNET