I envisioned the cello and me running toward each other on the beach, enraptured. There would be rainbows and butterflies and an indisputable soul-connection. It would be love.
You have possibly already figured out it was not like that.
It was my fault we didn't hit it right off. The cello was, of course, completely itself. I was not. I was awkward and stilted.
My teacher kept telling me to relax.
I can't relax, I thought. I want it to love me.
It was even worse once we were alone. I couldn't hold the bow right. I didn't recognize the sound the strings made. I thought I knew this cello I had brought home with me. It felt so right at the stringed instrument rental place. It felt... perfect.
But cellos are different from violins (they don't sound like you're sitting on a cat, for starters). You hold the bow differently (who knew?). Cellos aren't as prissy as violins. They require a bit of weight.
I really need to stop comparing it to my ex. The violin was a long time ago. I was young. It's been over for years.
But I do have a blister from all the pizzicatoing. I didn't know playing cello would demand actual flesh.
I have about 17 pages of music to practice this week. I think that should get us started. A little time together would be a good thing.
I'm sure we can make it work.
I've got the rental for six months.