The Piano Knows Something I Don't Know

Is suffering necessary?

Is suffering necessary?

When I finally climbed upstairs and entered Room 27, I lay down on my bed and broke down into a pool of pain, tears, and regret. Patrick wasn't home yet, and he almost certainly hadn't heard the news. It didn't matter. He would hear it soon enough, and I had no desire to spread my suffering to anyone else.

I turned on my phone, stuck my earbuds in, and shuffled through all of the Beatles songs that I had. The Beatles had never failed to help me before, so maybe they could help me through Brendon's death. However, it quickly became clear that nothing could ease my anguish, not even the saddest songs that I could find. I barely heard the music, and images from earlier in the day flashed through my mind. It was hard to believe that Brendon had only been dead for a few hours - the whole day had gone by so slowly. If the Beatles couldn't help me, then what would?

I spent the next several hours curled up in bed, refusing to move. I couldn't go to the dining hall for dinner, because I simply had no appetite. Instead, I searched for some sort of a distraction. I tried to work on my Morals, Values, and Ethics paper, but the words wouldn't come. I tried to read a book just for fun, but when I saw that the first line was "Paul Johnson was dead," I closed the book immediately. I had gone through far too much that day to find escapism in death. As the clock continued to tick, I tried to take a nap, but I woke up only twenty minutes later, shaking from a horrific nightmare. Nothing was the same now that Brendon was gone.

At 8:30, my phone began to ring. I reached for the phone and saw that Spencer was calling me. I considered ignoring it, but it was Spencer. Surely, if he was calling me, it was important. I picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"

"Hey Ryan, it's Spencer," he said. "I just...I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm not okay," I told him.

"Me neither," Spencer said. "I think that's normal though. You're coming to the Aubergine tonight, right?"

I knew that I had told Spencer that I was coming, and I also knew that it was wrong to go back on my word, but I had no desire whatsoever to go to the Aubergine that night. The appeal of the Aubergine Dream had never involved drinking or dancing or listening to music, or any of the other things that people usually went to a bar for. I had always gone to the Aubergine for Brendon, and now that he was gone, there was no point in going. "I don't think so," I said.

"Come on, Ryan," Spencer said. "You should go."

"You said earlier that you would understand if I didn't go," I said.

"And you said that you would go anyways," Spencer said.

"I don't want to go back on my word, but I couldn't even get myself out of bed for dinner," I said. "I don't know how I'm going to face everyone at the Aubergine."

"I didn't eat dinner either," Spencer said. "I just haven't been hungry since we heard the news. I'm still going to the Aubergine though. It will be hard, but we can do this together."

"I don't know about that," I said. "I don't think I can go to the Aubergine."

"If you don't go to the Aubergine tonight, then you'll have to go tomorrow night," Spencer said.

"Maybe I should just quit my job," I said. At the time, it seemed like the best solution. I would let the past die - kill it, if I had to. Even if I couldn't let Brendon go, there were plenty of other things in my past that I could get rid of.

"How are you going to pay for your room and board?" Spencer asked.

He had a point. It wouldn't be easy to find a new job if I quit my position at the Aubergine. Clearly, I hadn't thought my plan through. "I don't know," I said.