Page 24 of Yours, Finally

Jake

I closed the door to my condo and let out a big sigh. Even after years of therapy, there were still sessions that left me exhausted.

My condo and Gabe's shared the top floor of a skyscraper, and I often ended up spending time with him, and sometimes Lina, in the evening. Even so, they needed their alone time and so did I. So when I encountered Lina in the elevator and she invited me for dinner, I declined. Especially because she looked at me with a glint in her eyes, and that meant trouble. I didn't have the energy for trouble.

I flicked the hall light on and went into my studio, keeping everything else dark and ignoring the living room, the view of the city, and dinner. Sating my hunger could wait, especially when, through the fog of tiredness, a few bars repeated themselves in my head.

It was all I could think of as I turned on the mellow, warm light of the space I'd converted into a music room. The start of a melody, faint and hazy in my mind.

I dropped my suit jacket on the small sofa to one side, and sat on the working chair by the desk. The latter was decked out with a full keyboard, a state-of-the-art computer, audio interfaces and mixers, and studio monitors. Two microphones hung from the ceiling, supported by articulated, metal arms.

With several taps on the space bar, I woke up the computer. It was open already on the digital audio workstation software I preferred. I started a new file, made sure everything was working as desired, and posed my fingers on the keyboard. I closed my eyes, and let the music come to me.

My fingers moved slowly at first, hesitating as I found the rhythm and the first few notes. Translating feelings into sound was the hardest, yet most satisfying part of the process. Solving the puzzle of the right note, the right instrument, the right lyrics to express the inexplicable, it drove me. It nourished me. Even if it always left me a little unsatisfied, and craving more. Better. Closer.

But then, some time would go by and I would play a song again, and feel like I did the moment I wrote it.

It was magical.

So I kept working on the song, and writing down a first draft. I added beats and layers, testing out the rhythm and melody. It seemed it would turn out to be a slow song, so it didn't surprise me to hear the first hint of lyrics in my head.

My heart's still learning to count

In a world of giants

But as years go by and I look at you

I still see the dreams I hoped to forget

When I woke up to reality

Fuck. It shouldn't surprise me that my therapy session made it through into my music. Everything I created ended up being autobiographical and, after an hour of exploring my soul, I was primed to pour it into a melody.

I had talked about my fears for the future; how I continued to worry about making mistakes and losing the people I loved. It linked to my childhood, of course, and that's where the first couple of lines began.

Still, as usual, Vi made an appearance. Since I'd ended up talking about those feelings, too, the ghost of her would end up in this song. Like in so many others I'd written about her.

Another love song for the collection, it seemed.

I didn't fight it and worked on it for a couple of hours, until hunger wouldn't let me forget I was a mere mortal in need of a meal.

As I fell asleep more music threaded itself through my awareness, and I hummed it as I got ready the next morning. The song didn't leave me at work, either, even if no one would know it to look at me.

Not even Vi, when we crossed paths on the hallway, and she gave me a tremulous smile.

With a small smile of my own, I took my phone out and wrote another verse.

I'm not Darcy loving you despite my own judgment

But I love you ardently anyway

Yet you deserve a love that's whole

And I'm not, I'm not

You own all the parts of me that I'd give you

So I'm not, I'm not