posted on Aug, 30 2004 @ 09:33 PM
Today, I realized the way Shane feels sometimes. We sat in the music class after school- me, Diane, Shane and Janine. All around the hard, carpeted
ampitheatre style room we sprawled out, waiting for the teacher to let us go. I wasn't there because I took music like the other three. I was there
because they were my friends.
Shane was writing quietly by himself, the scratching of pen on paper audible in the silence. Janine quietly strummed at an acoustic guitar, singing
the notes to herself as she tried to teach herself the instrument. I was hopeless and confused when it came to rhythm and harmony.
"Do, rei, meee..." she mummured to herself again and again, strummign the same three notes. A few minutes later, Diane's voice joined in as she
stared at the ceiling. "Do, meee, rei...." The two voices came together naturally, harmonious if quiet and bored. Then, out of nowhere, Shane's
voice drifted over his chicken scratch. "Rei, la, ti, do...."
The tempo increased, Janine looking up at Shane as he concentrated on his book. I just sat and listened as the song evolved, all from the basic scale.
Point. Counterpoint. Shane's almost basso voice exalted Diane's high notes as their subconscious duet played on and on for an hour. All the while, I
sat there amazed. They wouldn't remember the beauty of the music, the perfect way it came together or the elaborate simplicity. They didn't remember
any of it.
I am the only one who does, because in that instant, I knew that if I even attempted to join it I would have ruined it. My fallacy, my inabilities
would anger everyone. It would kill something good. I was unworthy. Today, I might have experienced a fraction of what Shane did.