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The Art of Love
Saturday morning. Composition class.
I think that was when I first admitted it to myself: I was in love with him. It was almost unfair. I didn’t have a say in the matter at all. I had fallen for him, whether I liked it or not.
The room was filled with the beautiful noise of thirteen young composers fighting with their pianos to make music. I wanted to write something incredible for him, but I was having trouble. Nothing I composed was good enough.
I thought back to when we first met. I saw him drawing in the hallway at school — a half-finished black and white portrait that was vivid even without color. I couldn’t look away. I also wasn’t watching where I was going and collided with a tall senior. The collision made me release the composition notebook in my hand. Sheet music that I had composed flew everywhere. To my horror, he picked up a few sheets, scrutinizing the music before returning them to me. He must have thought I was some sort of freak.
I shook myself out of the memory. I had to focus on this music. Taking a deep breath, I picked up my pencil with my left hand and placed my right hand on the piano in front of me. And, to my surprise, the music came. He inspired me to find the melody in my heart, and I let it flow onto the page.
You could say I am a hopeless romantic, because I like to imagine that he can hear the music I wrote. In my mind, he thinks it is achingly beautiful and, in return, he draws my portrait.
Sometimes when I play his piece I imagine what the portrait looks like. It’s perfect.
I’ve always been able to draw anyone I want. Portraits are my forte. But for some reason, I can’t draw her. I know exactly what she looks like — yet I can’t get her portrait to look right. Every stroke is a mistake.
One day, I saw her walking down the hallway. I was trying my best not to look at her. She was frustrating me. What was different about her that was causing me strife? Sure, she was beautiful and I had no chance with her. She must have thought I was an anti-social weirdo, just sitting by myself and drawing all the time. That was a little discouraging.
But the point was that I couldn’t draw her. This was killing me.
While she was walking down the hallway that day, someone crashed into her. Her face turned horror-struck when she dropped her composition notebook and paper flew all over the hallway. I picked a few sheets up for her, gazing at them for a moment. I was reluctant to give the sheets back. I knew that the sooner I returned the music, the sooner she would be gone.
I think that was when I realized that I was in love with her. Like some sort of lovesick Romeo, I was in love with her.
After she had collected her music and left, I flipped to a new page in my sketchbook. I finally trusted myself and drew her. No mistakes this time. The right pencil strokes came to me fluidly — almost like music.
![](http://cdn.teenink.com/art/March02/DoubleExposure72.jpeg)
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This article has 103 comments.
This is beautiful in the way that you don't make this too corny. It's simplisitcally even when it comes to the lay-out, and I like that(:
Do you think you could check out one of my pieces? It's titled 'Burnt Leaves', if you could I'd love that! Thanks!
I understand your perspective on the whole thing and I agree that is odd how a girl would think it 'unfair' to fall for someone. Word choice is a very difficult thing. I am taking a Creative Writing class (I know, it's probably not showing) but the words are the hardest, not exactly the storyline. If you understand me.
It's okay how you "is all" and I do not think you sound like a total jerkface. I understand your point of view and all I just think that this is a good story which could use a bit more backbone but one can really understand the character's feeling. Sorry if I'm repetitive.
~luv2write~
(sorry for the pathetic screen name, I don't have an account with TeenInk yet and so I don't have a proper username and account)
I don't mean to butt in here (because I think it's immature to make angry retorts and such on here), but I would like to add that they are not suddenly declaring their undying love or anything. Rather, they have gradually realized (and, yes, suddenly admitted to themselves) that they have grown to love each other - from afar.
Thanks again for your comment - I really, really appreciate it. I should try to develop details like that more completely next time :)
Sorry I think I spelled your username wrong: I mean
Mirrorxmask
Sorry it was bothering me :)
Don't forget to smile today!
Mirrorxmas, I agree, yet disagree with you. I agree that this is a wonderful piece of literature and that the author should continue to write. Than I begin to disagree with your comment. For one you wrote how she see's herself belittled compared to him. A lot of girls feel this way and that's the whole "oh he's too good for me I could never have him" story you mentioned earlier in your reply. Also it can't really be love at first sight thing, I agree with you there, but you know, in almost every grade, a girl likes (or they would say 'loves') a boy. Now, they don't know each in that aspect but they still think the boy is cute and dream of them. Even I (by the way I am a girl) like a boy who I probably am not a speck of dust on his piano to him. Yet, I still like him. I think the author has talent and I think that this was a rather cute story. :)
~luv2write~
41 articles 1 photo 160 comments
Favorite Quote:
"If I knew where poems came from, I'd go there"
- Michael Langley, 'Staying Alive'
I LOVED this story, it was really well written. Great word choice!
(PS- check out some of my stuff? My newest piece is called Chemistry :)