What I Once Called Love: The Drafts

The Unexpected

Expect the unexpected, they warned me. I should've listened.

I sat beside you, listening as you let your fingers dance across the ivory keys. I grinned at the songs of my past as you played their familiar chords, and I was reminded of the carefree girl I once was. Quietly, I am hummed along to their pleasant melodies.

You noticed.

I half-expected you to ignore me altogether or maybe even ask me to stop, but instead you encouraged me to sing a little louder. Self-conscious about the rawness of my voice, I tried to mask it the way I would with others, but you shook your head, insisting that I sing as if no one else was listening.

I blushed.

It had been a while since anyone had actually heard me, twang and all. You seemed to share the sentiment because soon you started singing along with me, your own accent revealing itself. It was unexpected but beautiful, and I found myself falling in love with its sound.

You smiled.

After something beyond the confinement of time, we sighed, still side-by-side. Your fingers glided with ease across the piano as we gently swayed to their melody. I felt a peace wash over me like a cleansing rain. I glanced at you only to find that you felt it too. The tension lines on your forehead had faded as a small smile pulled the corner of your lips.

I noticed.

As you began to play a different tune, I watched as your senses became overwhelmed with the lyrics. It was as if you were trying to convey a message to someone who was worlds away, and the music was your own personal line to them. I found myself slightly jealous of your passion for whoever it was at the other end of the music.

You paused.

You nodded at the lyrics resting against the instrument, and I picked up where you had left off. Struggling a moment, I found my footing with the tune as my voice echoed against the walls of the room. I somehow understood why the song what's so important. I continued to sing its lyrics, hoping that your message would still be received. Your head dipped in what I assumed was gratitude as we began to fall back into the calming piece of your playing. I was still amazed at how talented you were, despite what your insecurities believed.

I shifted.

The next song you played was familiar, but I could've sworn it only existed in my head. You began to hum the tune I had played over and over in my mind as I struggled to remember the lyrics I'd written only days prior. Your eyes filled with a questioning stare as you noticed my sudden nervousness. I was unable to overcome the shock of how perfectly my words fit to your tune. There was no way you could've known what I had written.

I stood.

You stopped playing as you looked at me, puzzled. My eyes fell to the floor as I mentioned that I was going to head out for the evening, thanking you as I began to leave. Your voice halted me. You asked if you had upset me. I assured you I was fine as I proceeded out the door, leaving you and your questions behind me.

You sighed.

Expect the unexpected, they always say. We should've listened.