I was three the first time I touched a piano
and I swear, there were fireworks coursing through my body, shooting out my fingers.
There’s something magical about the way those slick black and white ivories explode against your fingertips.
The way individual notes and harmonies peel right off your instrument and diffuse entirely into the air all around, surrounding like a cozy blanket before they disappear altogether.
It was a sign from the gods of music. Piano and I were meant to be.

At three, I had absolutely no clue about anything- except for the fact that I was going to become a piano maestro one day
and people from all over world would come to watch me bend over those keys like a mother hovers over her child.
There’s something invaluable about the way I have hands-on experienced practice making permanent, hard work paying off, and beauty in the ear of its beholder.
The way I have learned a completely new language without words and to keep looking ahead, even when mistakes stare you straight in the face.
I bet I didn’t even need to go to school.

Three years old, and I had fallen in love with a big black box, just sitting, immobile, in our living room.
and my mother calls it my first true love.
There’s something admirable about the way my piano withstands years upon years of
tears puddling when I thought there was no choice but to give up,
pain when I had too much anger to take out on the thing I held most dear,
aching joints when boredom led to overuse,
speaking for me when what I tried to say couldn’t be conveyed any other way,
and listening to my voice as I attempted to play and sing Billy Joel.
There’s a reason I play the piano.
To my best friend, I’m truly very sorry.

At fifteen, I stand here before you, reading a probably very long poem about an inanimate object that doesn’t seem very interesting.
But I assure you, there’s something beautiful, something revolutionary, something completely indescribable, inexpressible
about how out of all the things that I did during my childhood, the only thing I can still clearly remember is that
I was three the first time I touched a piano.