By Chance In Oxford

9. Lorenzo

 Everything felt perfect, too good to be true perhaps? She had just poured her heart out to me and she barely knew me, frankly she had just met me a day ago. We sat at the table and I felt like I should stand my ground to prevent myself from being too pushy or seem as though I was being invasive but if I was being honest with myself, I was curious about her. I wanted to know her passions, her interests, her goals, her darkest secrets, her cherished memories. Normally I never cared about anyone other than myself and my dead mother, it was always as if I didn't have time to, like I was always wrapped up with something else going on. True I was, Athena made me care, Athena made me feel things I never want to feel but yet when I am feeling them with her I want them. So I asked, "So, the cello? Tell me about it? How long have you been playing, why do you like it, the works." She looked up from her plate and her lips gently curved to signal she wasn't entirely uncomfortable with what I had just asked but that clearly it was a touchy subject for her. "Well, I have played since I was a little girl, I mean I don't even think I can remember a time that i didn't play the cello, a moment in my life where my hands didn't touch the strings. My mom taught me, she was one of the best cello players I knew. She played recitals, had people dropping millions at her feet to get a lesson from her, did interviews, she was even set to play at the Sydney Opera House, but it never happened. There is something about the way it makes me feel. Like life is me falling from the sky, and playing the cello is my safety net, my cradle, I feel ok, like the earth stops on its axis and lets me make the movements. I use it for everything, happiness, joy, healing, it has been there for me more than most people have ever been there for me, I know it sounds pathetic but yes, a piece of wood has provided me more comfort and mental stability and flat out love than most people have. I play for the Oxford orchestra but I play my own recitals often. I dream of playing at the Sydney Opera House someday, in hopes that I can give a gift to my mother. In hopes that her dream and legacy can stay alive and I can take something that I love so dearly and do something with it to maybe make someone I love so dearly happy. Though I can't confirm if she'll see it.", she took a deep breath after her somber ramble as if she had locked that away for years and was waiting for the perfect moment to find someone who cared enough to ask. "You say she "was" the best cello player, why was? What happened to her?", I needed to pull back but this was like watching a murder mystery show or something where they leave you on a cliff hanger and you cant help but continue to watch to find out what happens next. I had to keep digging. "She died. I'm originally from the big apple, New York City, my dad owned an incredibly successful movie direction business and my mom played the cello and was my best friend. She showed me what it meant to be a woman, what it meant to take this world and change it to make it right even if I have been too scared to try it. He met my mother in New York City and eventually had me. My mom got into a really terrible car accident and she passed away. I was super young and couldn't understand where she had gone. Not to mention the dozens of adults who had told me different stories, she's on vacation, she had to go away for a while, she ran away, she went somewhere for work. I knew it wasn't true though, it couldn't be, my mother wouldn't walk away from me like that and not tell me where she was going, let alone bring me with her. My dad spiraled into a dark hole after she passed, he was a bad alcoholic and turned to drugs and money for help. He treated me like I was no longer his daughter but a burden my mother left him with. He totally forgot about me and he changed so deeply I couldn't see him as the same person anymore. It got so bad he had actually physically hu-", she looked up as I had stopped her, tears welling in her eyes. There was no way a girl this beautiful, this kind, this incredible went through such horror. "You don't have to go on, if you are uncomfortable. I don't want you to cry on our first date, because of me.", I felt terrible, I was being invasive and it came back to punish me. "No, actually, I have never told anyone about this but for some reason I feel comfortable telling you, I want to let it out, I want you to know what you are getting into, who you are trying to be with and what you are going to have to deal with." I replied, "Ok, go on. I want to hear it all I do. I have interest in you and who you are but not if it causes you this much pain." She continued, "I had gotten accepted to Oxford but my dad had hidden the letter from me. One day I came home and he was drunk and passed out on the couch. I grabbed the letter and ran upstairs to read it. The bedroom door swung open and next thing I knew I was sitting in a hospital bed attached to tons of machines with a giant bandage and stitching scar across my torso. My aunt is sitting next to me praying. I still don't know exactly what happened to this day but to be honest I don't want to know, I can infer and I want to move forward. My aunt flew from Ellijay, Georgia to NYC to come see me and she had agreed with me that I needed to be pulled from such a dangerous situation as that one. She moved me down there to her beautiful property and for once I was happy. She is my lifeline, my savior. I still love my dad, he lost something too, his own wife, people cope differently and I'm sure his rough period before I left was caused by that. I haven't spoken to him since, I have no idea where he is." "I;m so sorry.", I gently grasped her hand from across the table and looked into her eyes. The more she talked, the more she looked at me, the more she existed! The more I felt I was falling in love with this girl. "It's ok, don't be sorry, I'm glad I told you, I am surprised as well because I'm almost positive you are the only one that knows about it, except my aunt and my parents. It isn't something I am entirely proud of, or something I want to go around and flaunt, for fear that people will pity me or treat me differently because I am severely damaged cargo, or people will think I'm crazy now because of what I went through. I just want to be a normal girl in that sense, I want to have two stable parents and a happy family and I want to feel happy about my life. I guess normal and I just don't attract." I answered while wiping away a tear across her cheek, "Sometimes normal can just be another word for boring. Sometimes the people with the most scars, the people that are the least bit normal are the people that can drag you or themselves through the thickest of mud, the people who will teach you the best lessons, the people who are the most interesting, creative, kind, protective. Sometimes being normal just means you haven't been through enough to seem different. Differences are beautiful, and every single scar you have makes you who you are. Would you be the same person if you didn't go through what you went through? Would you think the same, like the same things, appreciate the same moments, help the same people, or have the same values. I think not." She smiled and nodded her head. She searched for help off the balcony like she was in pain, or wanted to be anywhere else but this dinner. "So how about college? Oxford, that is quite an accomplishment, what are you going for?", something to hopefully steer us off the depressing path we rode on seconds before. "Oh... yeah... uhh... I'm going to hopefully become an Obstetrician. I have always felt like it was my thing, like I was built to help protect the most beautiful moments of a person's life, birth. Children are the most innocent things in the entire earth and it is incredible for a mother to take that on and I guess I want to be the middleman, I want to help make it go smoother and protect those babies from any harm I can. I kind of feel that I owe it to everyone if that makes sense." I gawked at her sense of confidence and pride over her future career, how she could make a room stop just talking about it. Her heart seemed like it was molded for the job. "That is incredible! You know I know a few partners I do business with back in America who have wives who do that, you let me know if you want me to let them know and maybe you can have some connective advice from someone who is doing it. I mean only if you want." She chuckled, "Absolutely, that sounds great. Thank you so much." I nodded in assurance. "I'm so glad I ran into you. Call it by chance in Oxford!", I could only hope she felt the same way.