I wrote this almost four years ago.

I found it today and thought I’d share it with you.

With a quick look right over his shoulder he knew he had found the one.
The one his soul desired
The one unfulfilled desired
Longing his entire life.

His purpose and his meaning for living.
His life mission. He had found it.

Forgiving his heart

For hoarding all of his past hurts.

Forgiving his mind for rationalizing the unnecessary. Above all, he
forgave his eyes for seeing the joy of life and not accepting it as such. Thus, begins the story of Vincent.

The Italian man born and raised in Tuscan Italy. He had a simple life and a small family. A sister married with two children. A brother studying in America. Vincent had gone to school to learn music and art. He had a passion for creativity. He worked in a ballet school as a pianist.

For years he would play.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the hidden talents practicing their lives away.
He saw the hope in their hearts. He watched their point shoes carry them through auditions and painful recoveries. He witnessed disappointment and unrealistic expection set everyday. He wondered what he looked like from their eyes.

Free,

maybe trapped, lost, maybe both.

Every everyday, he was asked to play.

Thanked for his time and sent home. He
searched for perfection similar to those ballerinas. He thought he found it one day, he thought he found
it for years.