I caught up with a friend today. Well, I use those terms loosely, because I have only really spoken to her face to face a grand total of about four hours, and the last time we spoke was about a semester and a half ago. But, in a night of real catching up with a friend, I tipsily texted about 6 or 7 people that I thought might be good to talk to with slightly less inhibited thoughts. And what resulted was an arrangement to meet earlier today for a half hour. See, I had quite rapidly grown some affection for the aforementioned female, and had no way to approach past the point of awkwardly texting every months and saying things like, "Hey how're you doing?", "Things going alright?", "How's the semester treating you?". I currently have that type of relationship with a couple of exquisitely lovely women. Do I be honest? Come straight out with a profession of interest beyond platonicism? Ask them on a date? Lose the chance to have some awkward "catch up" meetings every few months? Or do I slow play it, like a solid hand of poker? Keep up the random texts every few months and hope something might happen down the road? Because, I am useless without having the opportunity to see the women I become infatuated with on a regular basis. For some reason, the feelings linger there, bubbling beneath the surface, but I am absolutely horrible at keeping up a regular text conversation with most girls. I can never start it out and I always seem awkward, like, "Is she going to respond, or think I'm weird for not texting in months and just coming out of the blue?" I much prefer the face to face talk, but in a tech rising age, words tend to be written to each other, more than spoken. Maybe I'm living in the wrong decade. Or maybe I just need to suck it up and grow a pair.
So me and this quite delightful and beautiful woman sat down to a roughly 30 minute talk, as she had a prior engagement. We chatted about some recent occurrences in her life; A slight road trip on the way back from a club, as a result of bad navigation. A private instructor that she did not like at all last semester, and how much better she liked the one she had now. Her attendance to an all girls high school. The fact that some people said she looked Asian, when she wasn't at all. This led to the discussion that she loved being a piano major; the practicing, the music, the performing, everything. These people had said that she "practiced like an Asian", and she seems to practice quite a bit.
Now, I know absolutely nothing about the hierarchy of the music department works. I have no idea how good people are or aren't. So, I wanted to know from her,"How good are you?" She seemed a little surprised, maybe a little offended at my blatant question. At first she tried to dodge my question. Laugh it off a little. But I persisted. "Come on, have the biggest ego you can right now, just tell me, how good are you?" She kept trying to avoid with such answers as "I dunno, I'm alright." and others. But I had a hunch that she was pretty good, and I wanted to hear her say it. "So, have you like been in any competitions or anything like that? How have you done? Have you won?""I've done alright.""So you're pretty good then.""No....." With each of my "So you're pretty good then"'s she seemed to get perhaps a little redder and a little more frustrated. In her frustration, she turned it around on me, "So how smart are you? What's your I.Q.?" And I answered in what I thought to be the most honest way,"I've never taken an I.Q test, but I think I'm a lot smarter than most people think I am because I really don't speak up all that much. (Pause) I don't study nearly as much as I should, but I would describe myself as an intellectual.""Oh, really." She seemed somewhat satisfied but still frustrated with me. I began to see that her always exuberant and cheerful demeanor was starting to slip and I realized I had upset her. She began to get up, as she had to go, and I looked directly at her and said, "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm sorry.""No, no, it's fine," she said in the fake sing-song voice of someone who doesn't want you to know that something is up. I don't remember the good byes or what else was said, as I was trying to wonder why she seemed upset with my prying. But I do remember the awkward situation where she gave me the one armed hug while I went in for two, and my hands ended up on her shoulder with the other shoulder pressed into my chest, and she completely avoided looking at me whatsoever.
All I wanted was to know how good she was. I thought it would be really cool knowing a really good pianist at the University of Texas, and I thought people liked talking about themselves. She has practiced for hours upon hours for years to get where she is now. Doesn't she want to brag at some point? To a person that has straight up told her to have the biggest ego she could in that moment? To show what she knows from years of hard work? To be honest, I don't know any really great pianists personally, and I just really wanted to hear her play. Is there something in her past that keeps her from bragging? An embarrassing reason that brings back horrible feelings? A pledge to herself that keeps her practicing all those hours that she keeps closely and safely guarded? A strive for perfection that can only be found if she never admits she's good? I could speculate till I run out of blog space, but I don't think I'll ever find out the rhyme or reason, and neither will anyone else. Maybe for her, its that one thing we all keep hidden from the world, that no one's allowed to see. I don't know. But, if you're out there reading this, know that I truly am sorry. I sometimes get caught up in my own head and forget how my actions and words can hurt those around me. Now I may never know where those tri monthly texts could lead. I may not get another chance to talk to her again. Only time will tell.
Recommended Viewing Experience:
Groundhog Day (movie)
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