Chopin's Monologue

“Well, you’ve never asked anything about my life.” he said simply. He sounded quite offended. Of course, he didn’t know how I tried to analyze him in my mind.
“You still want me to play violin while waiting for the tea?” I asked. I wanted to change the topic, apparently. Maybe I just wanted to keep the distance between me and him. Maybe I liked the mystery about him and didn’t want it to get destroyed by revealing. Or maybe I was just scared of what he was going to tell about himself.
“Absolutely.” he said smiling. He followed me to the living room. I grabbed my black leather violin case which was covered with dust. I opened it with a great care. It had been a long time since the last time that I put that wooden little friend under

His eyes were sparkling. He was anxious to listen to me playing. I tried to pick a classic. I didn’t take long. I had practiced the song for probably thousands of times. Without even worrying about any mistakes, I let the bow dance on the strings to form the notes of Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2 in E-flat major, imagining a piano playing along with me. I closed my eyes and wondered around my childhood bedroom of which door Mete knocked on several times shouting at me to shut it because he was studying for his Math exam. I smiled. My left hand was cramping because of the rustiness but it was a pleasurable pain. I savored it to the most. I saw how Mom applied myorelaxant gels on my fingers one by one at the very first days of my violin courses. I smiled again. I was still wondering here and there of my childhood memories most of which were pretty pointless and not worth of remembering at all. Now, I was in the garden of our house in Istanbul and crying with a little violin case in my hand. I probably had dropped it and there was a scratch on it which meant a disaster for me. I was wearing a red velvet dress and black patent shoes with white pageant socks. My hair was long and braided in a perfect tail. I was fondling my violin case. Then Dad came and sat next to me. He patted my head and asked if I wanted to eat cookies and held my hand. We walked into the house and disappeared behind the doors. I smiled one more time. I

He extended his hands towards my hair. I was surprised.
“Do you know how to braid?” I asked. That was an unexpected thing from such a guy. “That’s not important, really. I’m just trying to get my hair in a shape. It’s just a stupid thing. I will just make a ponytail.” He looked like that was not an offer but an order. He took off the elastic band out of my hair and combed with his fingers softly. It felt relaxing. “Where did you learn how to braid?” I asked while I was turned around and he was dealing with my hair which was long enough to reach down to edge of my scapulas.
“Well, believe it or not, I used to have long, long hair back in college.” he said. He separated my hair in three parts gently. “Eventually, I learned how to braid because my hair was disturbingly long and it is not a pretty thing to chew your own hair when you are asleep.” I laughed. I couldn’t imagine him with a long hair. His face was pretty. I thought he must have been looking like a heavy metal star with such long hair. “Why don’t you know how to braid anyway? You’re a girl.” He was quite quick back there. He was braiding very