We left the coffee shop around 11am, just in time to miss the first two periods of school. We split up and go to our elective classes. I leave to my favorite class of the day, band. I love music more than almost anything in the world. Music is the way I can communicate with the world outside of my own head. 

In band, I play the trumpet. I like it but I know it's not the instrument that I was meant to play. I know this sounds weird but I don't connect to it that well. I connect to it about the same amount as the piano. Maybe even less and that's saying a lot. My connections aren't like magic or electricity, the are more like warmth filling my heart.

The band teacher is always so nice and funny. He favorites me and for once not because he feels bad, it was because of my love and passion for music. His name was Mr. Ryan. He was that one cool teacher who goes by their first name and rides a motorcycle to school. Most of the kids didn't even know his last name, but Melissa did. Ryan Obelik, My closest teacher. On occasions he would come over and have dinner with her family and play board games. 

I was so close to being able to talk to him. I wanted it so bad.

Today in band we are learning "Africa". It's a nice song and I like the beat but for some reason sadness overwhelms me. It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you.

I start crying and run straight for the bathroom. I lock myself in a stall and bawl my eyes out. Now I know why that song upset me. Memories flood back to my like a lightning struck and it hits me. "Oh." I say aloud and cry even harder.

317 words

xx nicole s.