Melancholy Minds

Excellence Award in the 'Write Along 2018' competition

Your face staring so emotionless. Purposefully unaffected, no anger, no happiness, no sadness, nothing. The same as always, yet painfully different from the past. You sit, perfectly posed, not a finger out of place. Always fighting to be completely unreadable, fighting for a blank face, for nothingness. I see past your stern eyes, they were once so vibrant and expressive. I see past your perfectly straight back, I remember you used to lean so amusingly and dramatically over the piano as I played. I know who you once were, who you could be again. I see that person I first meet straining to get out, locked behind years of pain. But for now, it’s just this. Just a room filled with melancholy minds.
I play flawlessly. Each note filled with precise emotions. My fingers dance perfectly along the keys. You sit unmoving, unchanging. I will never understand you. Not this empty version of you. My song, created through raw intense emotion. Emotions caused by and shared with you, and yet I see you fight it. Your foot is planted so firmly to the ground as you fight your own mind to stop it from tapping along. I see your ears perk up with each note. I want break the empty shell you have become, I want fill it again so that everything can return to how it once was. Everything use to have meaning but now, everywhere echoing meaningless music.
Our past hangs over us. They are such painfully nostalgic ghosts, those memories of times gone by. So placid, so patient, they sit waiting for one of us to speak their name. Hands awaiting hands, wanting us to take hold and be dragged back to the times that once were. I dream of going with them, giving in to their constantly reminiscent minds. But to go back would mean to relive that history and while I yearn for all the good of the past, the pain of it still haunts me and is something I could not handle reliving. I hate this place, its nothing but a rotting corpse of what once was a happy home. A house haunted by misplaced memories.
I think it is time for me to leave. I will never be able to understand how you can stay here. This place, it has become your whole world. It is a world made of melancholy minds, of meaningless music, of misplaced memories. It is your world but I will not let it become mine.

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