And still...

"If I could stay then the night would give you up

Stay, then the day would keep its trust

Stay, with the demons you drowned

Stay, with the spirit I found

Stay, and the night would be enough"

U2,  Stay (Faraway, So Close)

3,582 miles, 6 hours, 6 years. Numbers as distance, numbers as difference, numbers as maturity. But when it comes to us, meaningless numbers. Because when we talk, we trascend geography, time and age. Faraway, yet so close. So close, and still... so full of meaning, so unreachable. 

I stayed that night two months ago. I stayed because you asked me. I stayed because you saw me, and I saw you. Because we both recognized our spirits and wondered where we had been all this time. It was so late... and so early. A kiss suprised me with the sunrise.  And still... too short, too shy, too restrained.

I left and, even so, I stayed. And you left with me,  hidden between the space between my head and my heart. We kept each other, in a suspended space without time and distance. Where reality couldn't touch us, where we tailored it to our dreams, where insticts ruled and truths flowed. And still... reality watched behind a glass and lies creeped up on us. 

I peeked into you, I enjoyed, I adored. For the first time I met my match, an equal so different but yet so similar. You found me and I found you.   I wanted to go beyond, longing to explore the depths of a soul I sensed as my twin, yearning for hours of conversation to undress our minds, leave them bare, learn, assimilate, merge. Too fill myself with you, and fill you with myself. And still... I got crumbs, smoke... half empty, half full.

I know that if your skin touched mine now, pore to pore, we would combust. The flames will glow high and burn so hot that they would keep us warm forever. And still... presence and now are cold ashes of our imagination. 

I feel you belong with me...and I belong with you. You are the lyrics to my song, the compass in my journey, the path I want to walk. You give a new meaning to first times and significance to the last. And still... You are a verse that cannot be sung, a step that cannot be taken, a lesson that cannot be had... and you don't belong with me.

 I believe in your admiration, respect, loyalty and love because they mirror mine. so deeply ingrained in my heart. I believe in you, you and me, you and everything. And still...  I can only feel the empty pain in myself, the nothing in "just me".

It is too late... and yet so early.  And still... sundown  has yet to arrive. Maybe if I stay, I'll get a kiss at sunrise. Maybe...

Armor

From a tender age I was labeled strong. And as a role in a play, the character seemed to suit me so I followed through building an armor, a perfectly tough exterior that would shield me from the the wounds of life. But somehow, the only thing that my makeshift  thick skin seemed to do was to keep the pain inside. Behind the heavy sheets of metal, hid a scared little girl that just wanted to be accepted and loved.

Invulnerability isn't easily dropped. People think that just because you assume the risk, face the challenge, and take a step forward, you are unfazed by rejection and carelessness. And when the smallest thing ticks you off or your guard drops down, they do not seem to be able to manage the real person that has been inside all the time: an emotional girl that is overcome by fear,

My armor is a heavy burden to carry. Very occasionally, when I am overwhelmed or especially sensitive, I take it off. I rarely do it in public, I retreat and remove it piece by piece during moments when solitude protects me. Those days I wear my heart on my sleeve, tears stream easily, and the world seems to lose a bit of its shine.  Every warrior needs its rest, a moment to be weak, wallow in pain, revel in fear. The battles are too hard and the road sometimes is too steep.

Some people might think that my though exterior is what has kept me safe all these years from the upheaval of a crazy life that I chose. I risked so much to follow my own happiness, I braved the storms of life with unending courage. But from this lonely standpoint that has become my existence, I sometimes wish there was someone, a cherished companion, that could carefully and safely peel the layers of my ironclad shield that has become a prison of my soul. And maybe, when I am tired, when the onslaught of my day to day becomes too harsh, and the wounds burn, he will become my refuge, the welcome respite of a million battles. That day he will unwrap the thin veil that covers spirit, and leave me trembling, longing for a warm embrace that will craddle and protect me. He will wipe my tears, clean my wounds, kiss my scars, and maybe sing me into a peaceful slumber. And in the morning, a new day will be heralded by the gentle sun and I will need no armor. His strong arms will be my peaceful home, the sweet shelter of my ragged heart.

Alone

We are born alone, we die alone. Company is only a mirage, an optical illusion in the desert of loneliness, the promise of a source of water that will quench our thirst for companionship.

Never

How you'd have loved the North Cape and the fjords and the midnight sun...

to sail across the reef at Barbados...

where the blue water turns to green...

to the Falklands where a southerly gale rips the whole sea white!

What we've missed, Lucia! What we've both missed. 

Goodbye, my darling.

- The Ghost and Mrs. Muir

I never cooked you a candlelit dinner, but I planned it. I planned the meal, every detail.  Homemade flan. A refreshing iced green tea. All made to perfection but only in the corners of my mind. 

I never gave you a bithday gift, but I bought one. A thoughful detail that was meant to make you smile but also stir the depths of your sentimental soul. 

I never dug beyond the surface, but I fooled myself, thinking that you shared with me instead of pushing me away. 

I never touched your soul, I never made a mark. I came and went as fast as a summer breeze. 

We never danced, soaking in sweat, promise of pleasure. I danced alone, lost in the music, trying to forget you. 

We never walked, bare feet on the sand, waves kissing our toes. I walked under the rain looking fruitlessly for your smile. 

We never took a picture, our smiles frozen forever in a piece of paper. But I kept your image imprinted in my mind and your body branded in my skin.

We built a handful of great memories but you cut me off, left me dry. And I wonder what it could have been. And I wish you would have given me an opportunity, an option, an open door. But you shut off, and I was left out. And I wonder, I will always wonder, what it could have been...But we never...

Promise

I am still hanging  from the warmth of your arms, the taste of your kiss. Wandering the streets, drenched in the rain, looking for your warm smile, following the scent of your skin. But I am only soaked in terrible disappointment, sodden with dispair. And I blame myself, for my wrong ways, for my urgency, for letting my mind and my heart drown in the tides of desire. I wished you for my summer when you were only meant to foreshadow my spring. I expected a promise that your lips could not fulfill. 

Words

The message. I cannot get it out of my head.  Beautifully written lies that will always reside in the inbox of my soul. Words are truly weapons of mass destruction. What a terrible liar you are. And you know it. And you don’t care.

I’m so hurt, I feel so betrayed. You might have tried to soften the blow but your darkness oozes among the niceties. Such a fallen angel you were! Still, you managed to blame me for mistakes that I incurred on, misguided by what you implied with your attitude and your words. You are not the only one that has an intuition. But my feelings blinded me and, even if I could see it coming from miles away, I still overlooked the red flags. They were everywhere.

I managed to write for myself a whole profile of who you were, of who I thought you were. I hate myself for it. I allowed my imagination run wild. Writing is a blessing, a catharsis. But trying to apply imagination to reality is the curse; it only leads to misguided decisions. Overlooking the reality only postpones the pain.

In your twisted note, you played the blame game, made me feel bad about not doing things that I did not know I was supposed to do. But most of all, I felt bad about falling too hard too fast. I am sorry that my feelings made you feel uncomfortable but I am who I am, I have a heart.  And I am human, I make mistakes. And no, this is not an apology. Because I am starting to believe you were planning to disappear all along. So funny I came across you again mere hours after the message. For the record, it was an accident; I did not do it on purpose. But of course you freaked out. Such a coward! You only replied to my plea because I appealed to your last remnant of conscience. Or maybe it was just pride.  Catching you red-handed reaffirms my belief that you do not have any integrity to start with.  And that the disappearing act was brewing for weeks. That break-up song was really an omen.

You left the best for last, the icing on the cake. I can only translate “different places” as “you were a great booty call”.  And that is rough because you are treating me as if I am stupid, as if I cannot read between the lines. You probably tried to soften the blow but the last few lines were even worse. You do not want to hurt me, but you in fact are doing what hurts the most. Suffering is not something you can avoid. You might not witness it, but it does exist. Yes, I am suffering. Probably more than if you gave me a chance, if you sat down with me and clarified, even labeled and tried to work with me towards a more satisfying solution. After all, you liked me... or so you said.

As I told you, I really want to thank you but this time not for your honesty, as there was none. I want to thank you for the short and amazing time we spent together, for making me discover great things, for opening new doors. And thank you for hurting me so bad.  You were lovely, but only in my mind.

Clean slate

I wish you were a stain to wash you off my pores, remove all your scent from me. I’ll pour ice cold water on my lips to cool off the warmth of your kisses. I will peel off the scabs of your scratches on my back and rub off the red mark of your last bite on my shoulder. I will scrub myself until my body is red and tender, hoping that your last caress, the one that was still hanging from skin, goes away down the drain with my feelings.

I wish you were an infection, bacteria entering my system. I would go a course of antibiotics and you would die off, almost instantaneously. But you are a virus, sneaky and cunning. You entered my being and now all my cells are compromised. You intoxicated my heart and my immune system is dumbfounded by the sheer force of your poison.  

I wish you were a tape to rewind all our story and start again. I would have done things differently, been more cautious, kept to myself. I would have saved a joke over your last words, the punch on my face, the door slamming shut. My heart literally sank when I read them, the pain was almost physical and completely unavoidable. My reason would have fought the unilateral decision but my heart was too ragged to follow my thoughts.  

I wish I could cut off the part of my brain that still holds your memories. I now hate my impeccable sensory memory and the images of you invade every resting moment. Your fiendish smile is ingrained in my mind, replaying over and over, burning so hot, hurting so deep, awakening all the emotions, the intensity, the almost spiritual connection that I felt.  And there is the key, I FELT.

There is no soap, lotion, gel, medicine, recorder that can wipe you off. Only time will cure my wounds leaving a nice little scar, another notch on the bedpost of my soul. All these memories will shrink, become less permanent, pop into my mind less often.  A year from now you will be a little speck on my universe. But deep in my heart I will still regret that, at some point, there was still the remote possibility of making YOU my universe.