88

(From a 2008 writing class)

With an assignment on hobbies, I’m obliged to bring up the piano. Though I have many other passions, I’ve simply spent too many hours with these black and white chains to bring up idle interests. For me, the piano is a burden I cannot release. I instantly think of thirteen years of lessons, untold competitions won and lost, beratements both within and without, and countless smiles and heartbreaks. Every time I see that curved wood, my heart wrenches for what I should be able to do but cannot bring myself to sink into. And yet I still play on occasion, but I almost wriggle out of my skin when I politely listen to anyone else play in almost any circumstance. I fear this torment will never fully leave me.