Dear G,

We used to sit and play music, it was our rock therapy. It kept us sane over the years even when we were small. Your small fingers strumming your guitar carefully making each string in tune, keeping it perfect. Your fingers curled touching the strings with your fingertips. You always loved music, we always did. Your fingers touching the strings and my own fingertips grazing the snow white keys of my grand piano. I loved my piano, the way the keys felt under my fingers, the sound of the strings as they vibrated through the mighty instrument. We would sing, you and I, my soprano voice and your alto voice, our harmonies mixing perfectly together. These were our special times together, the moment when it was all about the music, our rock therapy. We played old favorites, greatest hits, things from the present and some thing we wrote during our special moments.

I reluctantly sold my grand piano, I needed the money for college. I cried and cried for days and days until you came over. I cried and through my tears I said that my music was gone , that my one true joy was gone. You merely touched my shoulder with your fingers that have strummed the guitar for so long and pulled you hand away. You picked up your guitar and began to strum. I know that song, I know these cords, it was one of our songs. It seemed to be lacking, it was lacking my piano part and it broke my heart even more. You started to sing, your alto voice as lonely as your guitar without my piano and my voice, my soprano. You watched me as you sang and your eyes told me all. So I sang, my voice and my harmonies mixing with yours. Our song lacked my piano, but our voices made it feel all the better. You stopped playing for a moment and took my hand leading me into another room, our voices still ringing throughout. With one hand you closed my eyes and guided me into the room, my voice slowly softening as my lips sung our words. Letting me go, you came behind me, your hands with those fingers covering my eyes and you sang softly into my ear. You pulled your hands away from my eyes and I opened them only to see a keyboard sitting on the table, obviously used but well loved. You whispered into my ear a single verse from our song:

Our love is eternal
And I will always know
That we are forever one

I still have that keyboard and I still play it. I still remember every verse, every cord, every key to our song. I still remember. Music will always be my rock therapy.