Beauty

Jannick and I went to the Symphony Hall tonight. It was Love Classics, duh, it is Valentine’s day. So I had to sit through a few sappy, mushy, horrid pieces that others might call romantic but I won't. But then there was Tchaikovsky and there was Grieg. And as the music went up and the brass instruments joined in and grew in power, I could feel it swell in my chest and push tears out, each strike on the timpani sending violent waves through my body and I would realise that I had been holding my breath too long for my body not to protest, and I would let the breath out in a gasp as the next phrase carried me forward to the next climax, and oh God. I feel exhausted. I suppose beauty does that to you.