Sometimes certain things are just immediately worth doing.
Other things are not worth doing at all.
And some special things are worth waiting for.
I am trying to discern which of the above scenarios I should follow with regard to my new love interest.
His name is Edward, and he's about 80 years old.
This all happened so unexpectedly and suddenly, dear reader. And he captivated my attention like none other. I want to make room for him in my life permanently because I hope we will spend the rest of our lives in harmony together.
I wanted him to move into my apartment right away and he seemed agreeable, but he is such a robust, heavy, and old guy that getting up my staircase proved to be impossible for him (even with assistance), and going around the corner at the top of my stairs would have been even more difficult if he had gotten that high.
So I've thought about moving to a downstairs apartment for his convenience. I've called my landlord who told me that Apartment #5 will be available at the end of June. The sacrifices I would have to make for Edward would be the following:
1. All my stuff would have to be moved, and every picture frame would have to be rehung.
2. The new apartment would be slightly smaller.
3. Rent would be $20 higher.
4. I would lose the window above my kitchen sink, the aerial view out the living room window, and the sense of privacy that only a second-story apartment can give.
5. I would gain neighbors above, beside, and all around me.
6. The telephone, utilities, Internet, and all my bills would have to be adjusted to reflect the new address.
7. I'd have to pay for another deadbolt lock and peep-hole to be installed in my front door.
8. The living room and dining area would have to flip-flop, since the apartment layout is opposite.
9. On an annual stress test, a move like this constitutes 100 points. Up goes my score.
I'm sure there's several other consequential changes that would have to happen that I haven't even thought of yet.
Is all of this worth doing for a pastel green piano?
But think about all that would be added to my life because of his presence. Remember that this particular piano has completely and utterly captivated my heart. It is magnificent to behold with the eyes, and he inspires me to greatness when I sit down before him. It is at those moments--when I am sitting on the green bench and staring at the ivory keys--that I feel like beauty and possibility and wonder are all right before me, able to be grasped.
Music is more than just sound, dear reader. And a musical instrument of this magnitude offers more than just the ability to make music. It makes feelings audible without words. It is the workbench for new creativity.
Do I expect to become an amazing pianist after this? Of course not. Realistically, I might only write a few simple melodies myself and spend the rest of the time asking my musician friends to entertain me on it.
But my "success" on that piano is not the point, is it?
Expressing on it is.
And even if I should play nothing but sit before it and contemplate my life while lightly touching the keys, somehow I know I will feel better because of it. Yes, this is what life and love is. Sometimes it makes no sense but ends up being the best thing that could have ever happened to you.