A Few Sentences from my English Paper

When I sit at my piano with my Christmas lights on I can feel all the good things just flow into me, things like driving at night and Smithbridge Road and candles and bonfires and rivers with blue water and the perfect wave, the perfect note, the perfect song; NPR and Tastykakes and hermit crabs and red lights and she-likes-me-back and the interplay of rhyme and rhythm and running your fastest mile and baby books and parents and children and friends and being in love; memories and futures and shutterbugs and Orion and seeing Haley’s Comet once in your life and winning both showcases and solving your first Rubik’s Cube and sunrise on the beach and staying up talking way too late and kittens and first kisses giving you butterflies, opened eyes so you can see her smile because she is happy to be with you in a field by a stream and wondering if maybe, yes, she does feel the same way after all these years of thinking no! she is so far above me; teacher and student crying on the last day because they actually care and crying over loss but at least there was something in the world good enough to care about losing in the first place; hugs and heartbeats and sleeping in on snow days and being young and believing you’re invincible and having time and being alive. I know that sentence was long and that you probably won’t believe me that these all just come into me when I play my piano, but I promise they do. And if those things aren’t what define home, then I don’t know what is.

Peace out.