I was once told by my 11th-grade language arts class teacher that when I play music, my eyes reflect light differently and more elegantly, like lightbulbs shaped specifically like eye sockets. She could tell, as I strummed my guitar for a solo project of which I have no recollection of, that I was more focused on my fingers tickling the strings and my voice becoming in sync with the strums than the 23 pairs of eyes watching me, waiting to mess up. I never did. Since I was 5, I’ve loved music. I loved how my first violin teacher would know just when to breathe, where to place her fingers, and how to become one with her instrument. I wanted to be just like her, so my mother started to pay her 19 dollars an hour, just to teach me basic scales. I started to worship Beethoven and Brahms the way other kids my age would worship Roblox and My Little Pony. I don’t play the violin much anymore. By the time I reached middle school, my mother couldn’t afford to keep me in the local orchestral teaching program. But I knew that my musical withdrawals would end up being the death of me. Instead of feeling a true musician's agony, I reached for what was at my disposal: the rusty keyboard and guitar I “borrowed” from the back of my cousin’s car garage. I taught myself simple songs on each instrument in the 2 hours of time I had in between when I would get back to school and when my parents got home. My parents never liked it when I became lost in the creative sense, for it would distract me from studying and finishing this week’s AND next week’s homework. So I hid the guitar and keyboard under my bed each day until I could play again. It was completely worth the sneakiness. The guitar took me to a place I never thought I would find. It became an escape in a world of unknown, an organized design in a messy and cluttered environment, a true light in the darkest of nights. For the longest time, I truly believed I was going to pursue and study music. I genuinely thought I could have made it too. I had dreams that my debut album would be loved and appreciated at least locally. Later in life, I could even have been recognized by the Grammys and MTV. It is but only a child’s dream. Instead, I lay here, a pre-med biological science major, waiting to go to medical school and study pediatrics in all its wonder. As much as I love music, I love stability and money more.