The house by the lake (PS: Epilogue)

Years had passed since the day on which I had found your lifeless body in your bed.

A smile on your face, the gentle rays of the sun illuminating the room, a gentle breeze that moved the curtains of the windows.

You seemed… content.

I was at first broken. A small child with no mother, a lot of responsibilities that I now had to carry on my own. Debt, joblessness, depression.

I found some solace in music and made it my passion and my sole purpose for the following months, neglecting our child and my responsibilities. I had some savings that I made use of during that time.

When I played the piano you felt alive again. I escaped into a world where you were still alive, ill, but alive. I could tell you about my worries, about my fears, about how our child was growing up, how the house we had acquired was slowly turning into a home thanks to your love for detail and good taste.

During the piano sessions, I was free.

But then came the crash…

The savings, which I knew could not last forever, did indeed run out.

Social services deemed me unfit for parenting and took our child away.

My family decided that I was too much of a burden to take care of and stopped writing to me and inviting me to their lavish celebrations.

I was alone, broke and alone.

Looking back I doubt I would be where I am today were it not for the pit I dug myself into. Maybe, deep down, I knew that the only way for me to rise was to burn everything to the ground and build it back up from scratch.

It took me months to find a job and a few years to regain custody over my child, I was lucky though, since to this day they have no memory of us ever being apart.

The passion and despair I felt back in that time fueled a torrent of emotions that helped me produce what, to this day, is considered one of the best, if not my best work.

I have gathered the courage to write what I hope will be the first of many letters. I know it has been a long time since we spoke… I would not be surprised if you hated me a bit for having taken so long, but I needed the loneliness, I needed the despair, the depression, the depths of the pit to claw myself out of.

Alex is growing up to be a fine child. I take them for long walks in nature and tell them about the different trees, I tried getting them into music, but it seems that the musical part of us is dying with me. Who would have guessed though, right? Child of two musicians refuses to partake in their parents hobby. I guess that is how children are, they have to find their own way after all.

I am doing fine now, I know that there are other ways I can get in touch with you, goodness knows I needed this, but was partly afraid, partly too numb to realize.

I hope this letter finds you well.

I promise I will be sending you one of these every month to keep you updated on how Alex and I are doing.

Yes, I promise I am fine, you do not have to worry now, I am capable of taking care of everything. Except decorating the house… that is something only you could do well… Alex does have your good taste though, so I let them buy decorations every once in a while to give the house a more homely feel to it.

My studio is sacred though, I need the chaos to reign absolutely supreme in there!

I have to go now, Alex is ready to go out bird-watching and is beckoning me to hurry up.

I loved you, I still do, and I forever will.

Yours only,

...

The House and the Lake (Prelude)

"If there was anything i could do..."
"There is nothing you could do..."
"Maybe not now, but, who knows, maybe in the future..."

We had a fight like this once in a while.
It was just too hard for us both to accept that she wouldnt be around in a
short amount of time.
We were aware of the fact that everybody dies, nobody is free from their duty
towards the grave. But her case was different.
If someone died in their sleep from a heart attack, it was a shock for
everybody, but it couldnt be helped.
But if someone was slowly being eaten away by a sickness with no possible
cure, then the situation changed.
We tried our best to live every single day as if it would be her last and as if
she would live forever, but sometimes we got blown away by reality,
impossing itself on us, forcing us to look to its way. There wasnt too much
time left.
She didnt play the violin anymore.

"Why waste time on that?"
"Because art has never and will never be a waste of time"

Sometimes i convinced her with that simple statement. She would get up
from the bed and get the old, yet beautiful and heavenly sounding Stradivarius
violin out of its case. She would play enthralling music, making me loose
myself in its wake, completely possesed by the magic of each note.
Slowly dripping on me, the melody made its way from the violin to infinity.
That sound would always be there, no matter if she would not play anymore,
no matter if she were to fade away. The memory remained and thus she
would live on with me, no matter what, no matter when.
While i listened to her i gazed at the old willow that poured its branches into
the lake.
A lake full of life.
And our house would remain as full of life as the lake as far as we would
make it toghether.
And time played no role no more.
We had to life each day through. Nothing mattered more than her, her well
being, her everything...

Unbroken silence would hang in the air after she finished playing.
She would then put the violin back in its case, sadness stricken picture
painted on her face, a lonely tear rolling down her cheek.
It had become a habit for me to collect that tear and put it in a jar with the
rest of her sisters, so they would stay toghether and keep company.
I would do the same for her as long as i could.
Laying on the bed, her breath steady for maybe not too long, her head on my
chest. I would stare at the ceiling watching time pass by, not giving us a
spare minute to enjoy toghether...

The house and the lake

I looked out of the window.
The lake offered a dazzling look at this time of the year. The autumn leaves slowly falling from the trees and onto the lake itself, the fish swimming as if in slow motion, and the willow pouring its branches into the lake. The lake was truly the main source of life here.
Only a few dim rays of light fell into the room.
The dusty furniture reminded me of the old days in which we used to spend afternoons together, just watching the lake, not caring about the rest of the world.
She was the rest and the only thing in my world.
Laying on the shore, skygazing.
The clouds could become anything we wanted them to, there were no boundaries, there were no limitations, only our imagination as the only barrier. And her imagination was one of the most colorful and brilliant i ever met. Not a single cloud remained without turning into something never seen before. From trees to animals, pieces of furniture, sweets, fruits...
Anything she could paint on the clouds, and anything i would give right now to see her one more time, to feel her warmth on my shoulder, to hear her give birth to new clouds.

...

But life isnt that easy, those were words spoken by her while in her deathbed, still, you must carry on. You have to do it for yourself, but in times you may not find the strenght, then do it for me, for all the things we havent done yet, for all that life still owes me.
Keep living for me, for my memory, for as long as you life, i will live within you adn shall not die.
My body may have become fragile but my mind is still as bright as the first day we met, wouldnt you agree?
I could just nod while i held my tears back.
It wasnt fair, we had barely even met...
What is two years in the life of a man?
Nothing...
From that time we had met in the park until this day only two short years had passed, and that wasnt time enought to enjoy a persons company. I knew her, but i didnt fully know her, and that had been my only desire.
I had made my vows despite us not being married.
I had promised myself that i would keep her from harm,  that through any kind of weather id want us to be together, that id get to know her entirely, every inch of her skin, every corner of her mind, be for her a shoulder to cry on...
And there were many things i would not be able to do...
Her illness made her condition worse every day. The doctors said that her lifespan shortened every hour.
I couldnt bear the thought of losing her, thats why i remained by her side the entire time.
Are you ok, honey? she asked.
What could i tell her? I was in pain, but the suffering she had to go through made my misery seem... so little.
Yes, yes i am ok. Was all i could say.
I grabed her hand tightly and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She smiled weakly.
That night she passed away.
It was like in one of those books she liked to read. Peacefully, silently...
After she expired her last breath my eyes started cascading uncontrollably.
Now the pain was on me.
I lay on her and cryed my entire being out on her.
All our shared memories coming back to my mind, all the times spent together, the good times, the not so good times, in which she would just storm out of the room and lock herself up.
At that time i thought it bitter and cruel of her.
Now it seemed so feeble and unimportant.
Everything did.

...

The sun had set.
Time had passed.
She had told me that one time that i had to live on for the both of us and her wish i would fulfill.
I turned my gaze from the window.
The violin case in the corner of the room, just where she had left it.
I took some steps and hesitantly stood in front of it.
I had never had the courage to open it without her permission, but it felt as if it would be allright to do now.
I carefully lifted it from the ground and with it i went to the kitchen table.
That table used to be full of vegetables and fruits, now it was empty, as was the vast majority of the house.
I put the case on the table and undid the locks.
One of them shriecked, as if refusing to be opened.
I backed off.
Maybe it wasnt such a great idea, but it was open now, there was no turning back.
I lifted open the case.
There it was, her violin, untouched, uncorrupted, damned to be alone for all time now that nobody could play it, unable to cry...
I carefully took it out of the case. It was truly a work of art, to craft something so delicate.
It had her smell on it.
A solitary tear escaped my eye. I put it back to where it belonged and made my way to the doorway.
Just before i locked the door, i took one final peek inside.
Everything was where it should be, i could leave in peace.
I closed the door, took a deep breath and started walking with no direction, with no purpose yet.
I would find it though, i was sure of it.