Ask Me Anything

Chapter 5 - The Photo

I make it home in record time. I bound up the stairs with my guitar case, full of nervous energy. For some reason, my safe haven feels cramped and claustrophobic. I open the glass door leading out to a small balcony that faces the front of the house for only the second or third time during the year I've lived here. There isn't even enough room for a chair out here, so I just sit on the step. The warm late evening breeze ruffles through my dark hair. I've never really noticed how different everything looks from this vantage point and wonder how I've not managed to see it before.

There are a few houses on this block that had been divided up into 2 or more apartments just like mine, but most of the others remain stately single family homes. Looking down the street, most of the homes have a flickering glow coming from them. In a few of them, I can actually see well enough to tell what television shows they are watching. There is a couple walking hand and hand on the sidewalk directly across the street from me. They are talking animatedly as their golden retriever sniffs and tries to circle around them as they walk, sometimes getting itself tangled in the leash. The next house down has a front yard full of bicycles and outdoor toys. I never even noticed that there were kids living so close by.

Acknowledging her presence in the world to the guys made me have a taste of what it's like to feel infinite. It's such a simple thing so I have no idea why I feel this way. I feel too big to be inside all of a sudden. I need the room that only open windows and doors offer. I scramble inside and grab the scrap of paper off of the table. Returning to my perch on the balcony, I take out my phone.

I type the number in and then double check to make sure it is correct. My fingers hover over the keyboard, still unsure on what to say. Overthinking seems to be the default setting on my brain and true to form, it kicks into high gear. The glee of admitting she even exists, even in the smallest way, is being eroded by my own traitorous brain. I try to squash down my inner panic that is currently seizing my insides, but it bubbles up, insistent and needy. After a brief respite of freedom, the weight of being me now feels even heavier, a feat that I thought was impossible. My 'things that are out of my comfort zone' list just grew by one item: existing.

What Griffin said about looking at the audience this weekend really stuck with me. How am I going to feel if I spot her in the crowd? I froze in the store when she looked at me. Will it affect me the same way if I'm on stage? That hadn't crossed my mind. What if she has a boyfriend or is there with another guy? My list of 'what if's' starts to spiral out of control. I lightly toss my phone into the living room and out of arms reach.

I lean back in the apartment without getting off of my step. I loop my finger around the handle on my guitar case and pull it over to me. Performing a similar feat, I'm able to scoot the small amp over. After plugging in the guitar, I lean back against the door frame and start to play. The volume isn't blaring, but it's just loud enough to drown out my intrusive thoughts. I stop briefly to reach up and flip the light switch off so the only light is coming from the streetlights and neighboring houses. I neither want nor need to be sitting in plain view right now. My compulsion to dissolve has come back in full force, so I gladly oblige.

My fingers touch the strings and seem to act on their own will. My body taking over is my favorite moment of being a musician. As the songs start to flow, I close my eyes, not even needing to see to play. The additional darkness is welcome and comforting. I idly wonder if my broken brain is what makes me able to play. If I were carefree and wandering through life without a despondent thought in my head, not unlike Heath, would I still be able to play and write? If someone offered me no strings attached happiness in exchange for the music, I don't know what I would do. I'm not sure I'd be able to turn down a chance to find out what normal was like.