Light.

"You were just in my dream", he texted her. 

Just this. 

No adjectives letting her guess any feeling behind it. No follow up. Nothing else.
Just this simple telegraphic message to let her know she had been with him that night.

She chose to take it gently, imagining him saying it with the smile that once was her happiness, whispering it sweetly to her ear. 

It made her peaceful to believe he could finally feel warmly about her… with a better sentiment than the hateful indifference that ruled their ways after he left. 

She felt the serenity that message had brought her, sprinting through her veins… she felt the rush of something new to her soul. 

She thought tenderly of him but her heart wouldn't skip no beat no more. 

She was almost crying as she realized she didn't love him. This was not love anymore. This was not love! 

She. Didn't. Love. Him. 

It struck her like lightning. How overwhelmingly new this was! How freeing. How beautiful.

It shook her ground just as much as when she found firing passion, for the first time, in his eyes. 

"Here we will lay apart, but here together will our hearts rest",  she sang it in her head as to remember old sorrows. She knew their time as one would always belong to a different lifetime now, an eternity she no longer shared with this world, a piece of history to just reminisce sweetly about.

She. Didn't. Love. Him.

And for the first time in the longest of times, she could frankly smile and be light. She could just calmly, softly, be. Light.



"The fastest bullet flying,So quick nobody ever feel no pain

'Cause the plains they took my baby
And i'm gonna take her to the funeral beds to lay.

I hate to say i love you,

But oh goddamn i love you,
You know i do
But you're gone away, gone away, gone away.

These great fields are stretching,
Taking me oh so far."

                                                    The Districts

Ellipses and superlatives.

“I feel so blessed and happy to be alive,” she said, as she continued with a blissful monologue filled with ellipses and superlatives. 

It could seem, on the surface, that after her endless harrowing journey, she had come out renewed on this other side.
Then again, maybe not. Actually, the uncharacteristically ebullient comments make me think that probably not. 

She was depressed for so long, with clouds always hanging over her head, that now with spring around, she has too much light, too much joy and she might just not know what to do with the contentment. She knows it is beautiful but there's no comfort in that happiness no more.

For too long she felt everything deeply even when living vicariously trough the lives of people that meant something to her. In recent years she found her heart exposed outside her chest making it difficult to mask all the scars and little holes in it. In the end she enjoyed making love to her demons, assuming a direct correlation between anguish and artistic value. She found herself nurturing her agony and grief.

"We could have saved each other and we will always belong to the ages", she kept whispering to herself, over and over again, with an hyper-romantic perspective that would make the average person flail and get lost in a swirl of fantasy and disappointment. But for her, these dreamer instincts seem to breed a specific sort of rigor. 

She had been captivated by the hyperbole of her own heartbreak. To her, love didn't die by itself. She would have never allowed it. Love had to die of illness and hurt, of blindness, of doubts and despair, until there were no more wishes left for shooting stars.

"Just like a dream 
Oh come, come back to me
And I'll still believe
If you stay baby, stay with me
Darling I beg, come back to me
Just like a dream."

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's stay in tonight. Talk about our sad stories and then laugh at it all as we both know we found comfort again in each other's eyes. We won't let the red wine turn to vinegar in that open bottle and love won't be a haunting secret no more.

Let go.

As the sweet memories of distant loves and distant times lingered in her thoughts, she realized she had already come a long way.

Letting go was a lesson she struggled to learn. Letting people go and hurl themselves into their own destiny, their own battles, without feeling like she, herself, was losing… them… passion... life… it all took a lot from her.

It was hard to make her heart settle into the thought that, just like the sun rises and sets every single day, come rain or shiny date, come cold fronts or warm winds, also people come and go into our still pictures that make for specific life moments.

For the longest time, it all adjusted tenderly, but sadly, on her heart.

She finally realized, with patience, that letting go can be the translation of great love. A selfless love that understands and gets inspired with these different journeys of the people that make us who we are… in this instant or this eternity.

Goodbye… the word consumed itself in hurt, doubts and despair, yet it ended up liberating and soothing tortured souls that look for a common ground that might not exist. She ultimately embraced the strength of the word, of the feeling... the relieve it could bring… the peace.

She could finally value the beauty of departure. Deconstruction. Breakdown... As ruins allow for renewal and damage for repair.

She rather live now, safe and sound in her serenity, alone even when surrounded by so many people, happy with the happiness she guesses in the ones she loves, as she now knows life makes us all islands at some point… tiny dots in an ocean we are all trying to brave across.

We are all islands until we become refugees of something, of some place, of someone…

In this world we share we ought to learn to be truly kind, truly content to feel that everything is, already, now, always, as it should be… 

With every word I live again through the eyes of another

We'll meet at night, wet from the rain

and surprise each other with how we take away the pain

Could you be the one to find me safe and sound?

Love is how it's lost .. not how it's found

                                                                       Azure Ray

Restlessness.

There's a feeling within that keeps me awake when my soul should be sleeping. There's a restlessness inside that doesn't let me be… and yet it keeps me alive, as it is in these aches and discomforts that I find my true inspirations and visions, my limits and edges, my purpose and ambitions… myself.

As my hand searches frantically for another hand to hold, my heart keeps beating in my chest with a quietness I am having trouble getting used to… It seems like there is a loneliness in being together that won't leave my being. 

Perhaps it is this wish of keeping my spirit constantly agitated by every little detail of this journey. Yearning to be surprised… by every simple thing, by every complicated story, by others and mostly by myself. Desiring to keep being in a state of wonder. Marveling more than being certain, questioning more than answering, bewildering more than explaining.

I keep longing for moments that never happened. For years that were never mine. For stories that were never really fulfilled. I keep longing for a past that didn't exist and a future that I don't want to guess.

To this energy you once called guilt, just to hurt me. To me it feels more like a constant and glowing pain. 

The schizophrenic agony of having or craving for... Daring to try or fearing the loss... Giving it all or eternally hiding... Honestly loving or honestly leaving.

A pain. 

Love maybe, as some call it.

You, as I learned to name it.



"But don't let it pass
Don't get locked in
Everything starts
Way from within.

Where nothing is compromised
Nothing is lost
When everything is realized
Nothing is crossed.

But don't let it pass."

                                       Junip

If life was the movie playing in my head.

Let's watch Garden State once again, dream of our own elipsis and let Such Great Heights transform us in corresponding pieces from the clay. There will be beauty in our careless, sleepless nights and our hearts will never be the same again. You will be an evolutionist and I'll just be broken. We will both be happy.

Love can't be found.

Time and peace make us understand that everything is relative, not only to time itself and space, but also the momentary shape of our own heart.

Energy, feelings, emotions, can be greater than life, yet people can be as insignificant as a bored second.

As he called me his raven-haired beam I knew he would never know me but would always love me. I also knew he would leave as quickly as he had whispered little poems in my ear.

To the bodies that followed him, there was no hope. I felt them cold as we shared the night, though their skin felt warm next to mine. As they laid there I wondered how useless this replacement figures could be… there was no pulse, no heart, just a substitute form and an empty soul. 
I kept my eyes shut, trying not to see but his dark, gypsy eyes, his contoured shoulders and his strong hands holding my whole body. But there was nothing. No depth. A void only. A big and absolutely empty void.

I stopped. I cut all ties. I cried.

I used my tears as a cleansing elixir, a liberating potion for soul, body and mind. I needed to get rid of all the negative in me, all the rotten corners of my spirit… get it all through to the outside of me, exorcized in all those sobs of sorrow and relief.
I cried yet again.

As he stopped being the poem I had written, a time finally came to dance to the music that was playing.
Now.

No wishes. No fears. No reservations.
Just love.

That very second, as I wiped my tears, taking a deep breath, I felt love in its purest form and realized, surprised, one can't search for it.

Love is. Everyday. In every jaded second and every falling leaf. In every red sunset by the sea and in the ones hiding behind dark clouds. In the crying newborn and the mumbling old lady. In two lovers kissing and a lonely heart fighting. All is love. It can be felt but it is useless to search for it.

Love can’t be found.

Love just is.

Now.

"Won't you open a window sometime.

 What's so wrong with the light.

 (…)

 We throw our shadows down
 we must throw our shadows down
 we live and throw our shadows down
 it's how we get around
 in the sun."

                                         Angel Olsen