Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 43 ~

I don't know how much time have passed, but judging by the progress we've made on cleaning up the piles of papers around the room, I assume we've been cleaning for like 2 hours now. When I say progress, I meant that we've finally got to a point where we can walk freely without shimmying our bodies around the pillars of paper. We've also got rid of-in Constance's words-the great wall of paper between the common room and the kitchen. It's weird seeing that there's no wall between the kitchen and the common room, granted I'm living in a studio apartment, but the papers made it look like there's a wall between the two rooms. Progress is progress, even if that progress made my reality a bit distorted. I could have sworn there's supposed to be a wall around here somewhere.

"Oh, I spy with my little eye," The sudden sound of Constance voice is enough to make me jump out of my thoughts and listen to her soothing voice. She always does this whenever she found something interesting. Like that one time she had stumbled upon the rubber chicken and its family of rubber ducks in one of my drawers. She had asked me on why I was collecting rubber ducks and chickens, and I couldn't answer her, since I also have no idea why I have those. Perhaps it's the same reason why I bought Jeremy with me, the derpy nature of having random stuff around is hilarious. If I were an interior design, I would be terrible, considering that derpy toucan and some rubber chickens and ducks are my decoration choices. Not to mention the dinosaur collection, I have in my closet, but Constance had never seen that yet, so no need to feel embarrassed about that.

"Okay, let's hear what you have found," I place both my hands on my hips as I turn to gaze at her.

She's at the far corner of the common room, away from me, so I can't get a brief look at what she had found. I try to refresh my memory to see if I ever store something in that corner, but alas, my memory is failing me today. It's funny how it can remind me about the past but when I try to remember something simple, it just completely stopped working on me. "I spy with my little eye," She repeats the phrase again, increasing the anticipation on the atmosphere between us. "An instrument with strings," She flashes me a grin before pulling up the thing she had found.

Oh neat, she had found my guitar. I don't know why that excites me, but it did, and I'm even going to question it any further. "That's my long-lost guitar. Thank God, you've finally found it." Also, thank God, that the strings and other parts are still intact. I was worried that once I found it, I have to get it fixed. But nope, still looks like it's in perfect condition. The only I want to check is if the strings are still on the right tune. I reach out my hand to her, "Can I see if it's still in the correct tune?"

She hands me my guitar, and the look in her eyes tell me that she's feeling excited for me to play the guitar. It's been only 5 months since the last time I've played the guitar, but holding it again feels like I've finally found one part of my soul. While I check the tune of my guitar, Constance slowly saunter her way to me and sits on the edge of the TV table in front of me. She begins to throw question after question about my guitar while I tune it up, "How did you learn to play the guitar? How old were you when you've had your guitar? Were you in a band once, maybe like in high school, or are you a solo player? Have you written your own song? Can you play a song for me?"

"Calm down with the questions," A chuckle escapes my throat as I keep on tuning the strings. "I've learned how to play it because of my father," The mere mention of my father makes my heart punch me in the chest. Again, another reminder that I should reply to their handwritten letters. "He begins to taught me when I finally can control my fingers," My fingers begin to strum the guitar as my mind reminisce at the memory of my father teaching me to play it. "On my 15th birthday, he bought me this guitar, and when I've received it, I swore to him that I'll keep it forever."

A gentle smile forms on Constance's face, "You must have been ecstatic that I've found it."

I smile back, but I didn't look away from my guitar, "I am." Finally, found the correct tune of each string and I gently place it down on my lap before gazing up at her. "No, I was not in a band or a soloist in my high school years," There's that hint of disappointment shines in her eyes, but it quickly morphs into appreciation. "Also no, I have not written an original song," Novel is hard enough to write, imagine a full-on song lyrics. "But before anything else, care to give me a song suggestion, since you've found my guitar and everything, you deserve a song from yours truly." I place a hand on my chest, another smile creeps in my face as I wait for her suggestion.