Days 18 to 24

There are some things you miss. You miss scents, tastes, sights as well as sounds…but one thing I’ve been missing a lot the past week has been the company of a certain person. We agreed to take some time apart from each other due to the issues I’ve been having as well as other things…and I agreed. Though, I didn’t want to…but since that friend asked me…I said yes.

The past week, much like other weeks has been like an elevator, having both ups as well as downs. But, the elevator that was my life the past week, has been visiting the ground floors a lot. Found out, one of my close friends has experienced what I’m currently experiencing a long time ago…but not her of course, but rather…someone special in her life. And she’s been giving me advise as well as helping me out a long the way by guiding me and showing me the right direction.

And towards the end of the week, I found out that another close friend of mine is starting to feel like what I’ve been feeling…and what do we do? We talk.

Lonely nights have started coming again…everyone too busy to hang out…everyone too busy to have a bit of a chat. However, one company I’ve been having around a lot lately has been my guitar.

Slowly, one chord at a time, after every gentle strum of the guitar…I start feeling better. Fingertips bleeding from the steel strings that have crusts of blood and rust coating them due to being holed up in the closet for over a year.

Slowly, one chord at a time, after every gentle strum of the guitar…I start feeling better…listening to songs in my massive MP3 collection and playing to them, trying to find the right note, the right chord, the right fret and right string.

Slowly, one chord at a time, after every gentle strum of the guitar…I release all my frustrations, all my fears as well as doubts. Not caring about whatever is happening outside the bubble that is me and my guitar.

Slowly, one chord at a time, after every gentle strum of the guitar…I remember a movie, “Stranger Than Fiction” which starred Will Ferrel, about him finding out his imminent demise and how he started changing the way he lived…and in turn…started to live:

“With every awkward strum, despite his approaching demise, Harold felt a little more at peace. Harold no longer ate alone…He no longer counted brush strokes…He no longer worried about the time it took to put on his tie...He no longer counted his steps to the bus stop…Instead, Harold did that which had terrified him before. That which eluded him Monday thru Friday for so many years…That which the unrelenting lyrics of those numerous punk rock songs told him to do…Harold Crick lived his life. And with every strum, he became stronger in who he was, what he wanted, and why he was alive. But despite resuscitating his life, reviving his hope and developing a few wicked calluses, Harold’s journey was still incomplete. And Harold’s wristwatch wasn’t about to let him miss another opportunity…”

Maybe…that’s what I need to do. Rather than worry about everything, panic and “brood” about everything…I need to learn how to live again. Just as I did before, giving a big fuck you to the world, living, balls out and…free.

And with every chord, every strum of my guitar…I release all my inhibitions, all my frustrations, all my woes, my cares…and just play.

With every chord, with every strum of my guitar…I live.