Post #245 Really Old and Sad Story of Mine

this probably really hard for me to tell and just to think about it brings me to tears (almost, at least).

i first played the piano when i was really really young, not even in kindergarten yet. i first played in my great-grandmother’s house in Yogyakarta, with my aunt’s piano. i remember i played twinkle-twinkle little star. i was really happy. i started to learn from my aunt, simple songs. very simple.

then, i played in YPM’s room number 108, if i’m not mistaken, in front of three judges (you can say that they’re judges), one of them actually become my real life teacher. then, i became a student there. i was in the 1st grade of elementary school. i was one of the youngest in my teacher’s class.

years went by, level 5. one day before practice exam, exactly 24 hours before exam. one simple phone call from my mother, i was no longer a student. six in the morning, after seven years, i was no longer a student.

there’s not a day in my life, i don’t regret that phone call on six in the morning

and i never played again

probably it’s because the regression and the real-awful broken heart i felt, i don’t want to play again. i just can’t bear that kind of broken heart, ever again. just imagining is enough for me, for now.

i didn’t even remember wanting or whether it was my decision to quit

that makes me heart-broken the worst