When I lost you I felt homeless. I thought no one ever could replace you. No one ever could make me feel the way you did. It doesn’t mean that I love you or miss you. I’ve got freedom; I’m not bounded to you anymore. I don’t even reminiscent that summer. I feel nothing when I picture us at that place. I don’t even tremble when I bring myself to the heat of the August evening when you kissed my cheeks and put on taxi after you spent an hour gazing at me while I was sitting on your chair.
When I first met you, I was fascinated by your fragility. You stared at me with eyes full of childish innocence. All the way home I wouldn’t stop thinking of you. I immediately recognized that feeling. A fatality that was hopeless to avoid.
These little memories don’t mean anything now – a heavy baggage of fourteen-month joy, tears, passion and sorrow of no value. The process of overcoming my addiction to you remained a celebration of mournful silence, a broken heart and a tragic darkness. And while I enjoyed my misery I was safe. I had been walled up in a house of grief.
Then I let it go.
Suddenly I was deadly alive and felt nothing. I found myself in a state of numbness. The life was in fool bloom – friends, dates, inspiring acquaintances, long journeys, birthday parties – I had everything. And I still have. But there was this weird phobia of never having passion for someone. I met a lot of decent man since we parted our ways. They were funny, they were caring, they were noble and more than that, but I couldn’t fall for them. Only you lit my fire and burned from the inside.
I was wandering in this world where home was just a phantom, a vague contour of two bodies intertwined in the sea of love. Since I lost you, I realized that in the end all human beings come from nowhere and go to nowhere. We are homeless strangers on the bridge of life ready to make the very last step.
Now after two years had passed, I could look back and see that there was so much distrust and anger inside me, that it transformed me into a wounded beast. I could have died from this pain stroke; I could have faded away in the world where you didn’t belong to me. To the cheeks you used to kiss, you gave a slap. Not physically, but that which panged me almost to death. I was such a nonentity that I self pitied myself for months and months.
Now after two years had passed, we are not even friends. You are just a lonely broken soul. And me… Now, a bright young woman, with a loving man beside, I see no ghosts from the past. Not anymore…
When I first met you, I was fascinated by your fragility. You stared at me with eyes full of childish innocence. All the way home I wouldn’t stop thinking of you. I immediately recognized that feeling. A fatality that was hopeless to avoid.
These little memories don’t mean anything now – a heavy baggage of fourteen-month joy, tears, passion and sorrow of no value. The process of overcoming my addiction to you remained a celebration of mournful silence, a broken heart and a tragic darkness. And while I enjoyed my misery I was safe. I had been walled up in a house of grief.
Then I let it go.
Suddenly I was deadly alive and felt nothing. I found myself in a state of numbness. The life was in fool bloom – friends, dates, inspiring acquaintances, long journeys, birthday parties – I had everything. And I still have. But there was this weird phobia of never having passion for someone. I met a lot of decent man since we parted our ways. They were funny, they were caring, they were noble and more than that, but I couldn’t fall for them. Only you lit my fire and burned from the inside.
I was wandering in this world where home was just a phantom, a vague contour of two bodies intertwined in the sea of love. Since I lost you, I realized that in the end all human beings come from nowhere and go to nowhere. We are homeless strangers on the bridge of life ready to make the very last step.
Now after two years had passed, I could look back and see that there was so much distrust and anger inside me, that it transformed me into a wounded beast. I could have died from this pain stroke; I could have faded away in the world where you didn’t belong to me. To the cheeks you used to kiss, you gave a slap. Not physically, but that which panged me almost to death. I was such a nonentity that I self pitied myself for months and months.
Now after two years had passed, we are not even friends. You are just a lonely broken soul. And me… Now, a bright young woman, with a loving man beside, I see no ghosts from the past. Not anymore…
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