Missing the Music

I’ve joined orchestra, concert band, and flute choir. I’ve made a few trips to the practice rooms, too. My flute definitely isn’t missing out on the uni action, and it’s providing vital breathing space for me from work.

One thing is simple though, it’s just not the same. I may be playing my flute, and things like playing Alladin might take me back to my solo in year ten, but it doesn’t mean it’s the same.

I want to be back at school, so I can have flute lessons. I want to walk into that room every Wednesday and know that for fourty minutes, I can be me. I can be quiet, refuse to make decisions, and laugh when I struggle with double tounging. I can say what I need to say and even if I end up crying, I won’t be judged. Nobody will be told about what I say, and I’m safe to let down all my guard and let the music swallow me.

I miss my flute teacher. I think about the day my best friend took me to her, crying my eyes out, and she just arranged for us all to have coffee so that we could talk properly. It was a fairly horrible day, but she reacted in the way that I never expected her to.

Often I wonder if it would be okay to just drop her a text. Say hi, see how things are going. I don’t think that’s appropriate though, is it?

I just want to escape back to that little room, and let the world swirl around me in a few moments of blissful ignorance.


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