Jack has always let his music do the talking. A man of few words but with eyes that tell deep stories untold. And whenever he sat slouched over the piano with his dark, pale but tired-looking eyes, with his delicate fingers caressing the keys, it felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was ready to unleash it to the world.
Music was his life and his piano was his soul. He had learned how to play as a kid from his late parents. But ever since they died in that night fire at their family bakery, he hid himself from the world and let his music only tell his tale. His music was his comfort and refuge until he met Lily on that long lonely night he played at a bar downtown.
At first, he thought her laughter filled a void in his heart, but after a series of dates, he realised that her laughter truly did fill up that empty hollow in his heart that he thought was too deep to fill.
Well, that was until he woke up one morning to find her side of the bed cold. She was gone. Gone without saying goodbye but only a few words scribbled on a piece of paper and carefully placed on the bed stand. Without an explanation of her actions, it only reads
"I'm sorry but I can't love you anymore"
He sat on the bed, listening to his heartbeat, listening to the birds chirp. It was as if they were trying to comfort him, for the empty hollow feeling that opened up again in his heart. He thought he had found redemption with Lilly, a chance to build again, but that chance was over.
He pushed himself off the bed and wiped his eyes clean. His life might have been a rollercoaster of loss, but he was done brooding over the loss of loved ones. And somehow the emptiness he felt within him turned to a fire for new redemption, not handed to him from the love of another but handed to him from the love he was about to give himself. A love he knew he had withheld from himself sitting by the piano and making melodies that mocked his pain. He was ready for a new start.
He got to the window and opened it up to let the sunshine in. His apartment, an old manor house, and the inheritance he had from his parents sat in the middle of a big land carefully tucked away from the city. His only neighbours were the birds that chirp at his window every morning. He stared at the walls, they were already peeling. A clear depiction of how he had left his heart peeled for years. He took a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill his lungs and felt alive again.
Then he walked over to the piano, but this time, for a very long time, he let his hands caress the keys, and they didn't play sorrowful melodies anymore. But the melodies that flowed within him were lighter and more hopeful melodies. And for days he worked on his new tunes, perfecting every chord and every sound.
One day he woke up, sold his house and moved to the city. To him, the old manor held too many painful memories, which he had held onto for years. The walls and the empty rooms were suffocating to him now. He needed to be away from the ghosts of his past that had haunted him for years.
He had no idea of what to do in the city. But somehow he felt safer being surrounded by people. The steady honking of cars and the bustling energy. He rented an apartment, not so cosy but comfortable and with luck on his side, he landed an evening gig at a restaurant nearby where he played his new tunes. Surprisingly, the people loved it and brought him more gigs at their parties.
His life wasn't grand at the moment but he loved the growth and newfound peace. And of course he found love again, this time not in the hands of a woman but in the cosy paws of a stray dog he had found and adopted on his way from work one night.
He didn't care about any other thing for the time being, other than showering himself and his dog with all the self-love, peace and gentle but steady growth he wished for.
