Seen Through a Window

“Maybe I should have called first.” I pushed the branch aside to see inside
better. As I leaned towards the window, I realized I was holding my breath.
As air finally streamed in, I leaned closer. I could barely hear the beat
of the music, but it was clear that he was having the time of his life.

His back to me, he was dancing the way people only do when nobody is watching.
Completely free, holding back nothing. Arms flailing, kicking and spinning,
it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Thinking back I could
not think of one time when I had ever seen him dance without worrying about
what he looked like.

Then in the middle of a spin, I realized he was not just dancing. Those
adorable lips were wide in song. The realization hit me like a rock in
the chest. It had been months since I had last heard him sing; even when
I begged him to sing for me he refused. I missed those days in the beginning
when he would sing to me in the bedroom, nervously trembling but so sweetly.

Yet here he was, singing at the top of his voice, all alone in his room.
As his voice soared to the climax of the song, my heart stopped. I could
hear him now, hitting that note and I remembered why I loved hearing him
sing. I could feel his happiness from here.

“Why does he never share this with me any more? I miss seeing this part
of him.” The stinging in my eyes brought me back to the moment. I heard
the silence. Looking up, I saw him looking back at me. The song was over.