"I've told you this before, but you're like a Romantic piece - like Brahms. Music was perfected in the Classical Era. Baroque before that was too mathematical, and was so beautiful but was just a little too boring because everything was expected."
"I like Brahms."
"You know where Mozart was going at every turn, because he did it "perfect", harmonies in 4ths and 5ths. Then people started to play with things, harmonize in thirds and do different things with the tempo being much faster. This was the classical Era. After that, Chopin and Brahms and Beethoven brought in the Romantic Era which rejected that perfection, and just played what was beautiful. Sometimes it doesn't make sense really "why" it's beautiful. Chopin's Nocturnes are very weird and syncopated and atonal and chromatic, but it' s beautiful because of the cadence. Beethoven was the master of harmonies and Brahms takes one melodic line like in "lullaby" and makes you focus on only that - no orchestra, just a single, beautiful melody. Very much more intimate than classical. Not "perfect", but so real and powerful and raw. Does this make sense?"
I don't think there is really any better compliment than being compared to a Brahms piece. You know how to kill me and make me feel beautiful."
"Like not a barbie doll. You're the guy Ken cheats on Barbie with. Because you're so much more alive and interesting and beautiful. And beautiful not in a boring and stereotypical and expected way."
Then there were ones following that had the angst of fights, break ups and reconnections, changing colleges and starting a new program, uncertainty, fear, memories, and joy.
We all have our stories, mine included, but I never thought that mine was going to get this good and I'm not even at the end.
I'm in love.
I have two great jobs that I can get by on.
I'm getting my masters.
I have some very good friends and some very supportive family members.
I'm successfully in recovery from anorexia.
I'm successfully in a romantic relationship after abuse.
I signed my first lease today.
There is always hope.
Sometimes I didn't think there was going to be a better way but I was really scared.
Sometimes I still get that twinge of sadness when my father and I text because there's no substance to it.
Sometimes I'm scared I'm going to fail or mess this up.
Making choices that could affect your life can be such a terrifying thing because what if it's wrong?
What if I have to put myself out there and I fail or someone doesn't return the same feelings?
I hit this milestone finally where I was no longer afraid to shed my childhood and my terrible experiences because this is infinitely better.
Sometimes we just need a push.
I want to write soon, write about the changes and the thoughts but I don't know how, only that I want to write.
For now, here is this beautiful compliment which was the result of taking a chance on the what if.
My Romance Era, if you will, where I'm learning that it's okay to take a chance life.