And after I played them both a few times, I realized they were two halves of the same song.

...we were like two people standing apart on separate mountain peaks, recklessly leaning forward to throw stones at one another, unaware of the dangerous chasm that separated us.

Then you must teach my daughter this same lesson. How to lose your innocence but not your hope. How to laugh forever.

God, life changes faster than you think.

Don't think too much. That makes you believe you have more choices than you do. Then you mind becomes confused.

I wanted to write stories for myself. At first it was purely an aesthetic thing about craft. I just wanted to become good at the art of something. And writing was very private.

And for all those years, we never talked about the disaster at the recital or my terrible accusations afterward at the piano bench. All that remained unchecked, like a betrayal that was now unbreakable. So I never found a way to ask her why she had hoped something so large that failure was inevitable. And even worse, I never asked her what frightened me the most: Why had she given up hope?