As I left The Palvine Residence, I couldn’t believe what’dhappened. I had lived my own story. I had learned that it is not always what seems important that is important. I had learned to love. And I would make that man happy and as free as he would allow me every day. Forever. Until I died.
It was that day after school that I returned to the house. But I couldn’t find him. I ran around the old, empty rooms but nothing. He was gone. Had he run away for a better life in Vienna or Florence or Venice? Run to be a musician? I prayed that to be the case. I went to the room I had first encountered him in and , with tears in my eyes, I sat at his piano to run my hand over his sheet music where I saw a note in place of it:
My Dear, know that I love you. But I love you too much to curse you to live here with me forever. You will not see me again. But know that I will love you and miss you and dream of you forever. Until we can meet in heaven. There is only one way to truly be free.
My hot tears blotted the black ink so it ran down the parchment. He was gone. But why? I survived but doing the one thing I could for him, to make him happy, maybe attract him back home to me. I planted a blossom tree. In the front. And I prayed one day he’d see it.
But In my heart, I knew he never would.