Ashes to Ashes

One thing is for sure: I need to love to survive. I've tried loving myself, following the script of all those meaningful quotes with unknown authorship, written on peaceful backgrounds. What a poor substitute I turned out to be!
So I ask myself: Have I clung onto him only because there was no one else? Was that "love"? I read myself and remember. Vaguely. Once upon a time ... That time is dead. That me is dead. That me was someone else buried under the heavy curtains of tearful nights.

I killed her.

There was no use in prolonging the agony. She would've withered away in the end anyway.

And then, one cloudy spring, there came the sunrise. The sun has been shining since.

Once upon a time, nothing happened.
Now, everything happens at once.

Not Sorry

I have been waiting for this moment. For the past tense. For the 3rd-person narrative, although the narrator is still me. I had been hoping for this moment of certainty that his toxic presence would not touch me anymore. I smile at the thought of being free. Of having gotten over.
"I am sorry," I'd tell him, but I am not. Not for myself.
I have found deeper meaning, sweeter smile, loving arms.
"You" is not "him" anymore.

Germinal

Ținându-ne de mână, la pas pe străduțe înguste, explorându-le, explorându-ne.
Zâmbind și râzând până la pierderea răsuflării. Ți-am spus că nu țin minte de când nu am mai râs așa. Adevărul e că nu cred că am mai râs așa vreodată. Adevărul e că nu am mai avut vreodată ce am cu tine, dar încă mi-e teamă să recunosc, încă mi-e teamă să visez.

Avalanche

Calendarul oprit la aceeași dată, un număr indiferent până atunci. Doar ceasul merge necruțător înainte.

Trăiri noi, drumuri noi, pași noi în pantofi vechi. Totul e atât de nou încât îmi scârțâie ca prima zăpadă sub tălpi.
Ținut de mână, legănat, ca niște copii. Cu sufletul.
Palma ta oprită pe coapsa-mi, bucuria atingerii constantă.
Căldura pe care o emani din trup, din pori, din suflet.

Mă privesc uimită și nu reușesc să cuprind pe de-a-ntregul avalanșa de sentimente, de bucurie, de exaltare. Mi-e teamă că are să mă sufoce.

In Lieu

Cartea încă nu am citit-o. Am citit, în schimb, dedicația de câteva sute de ori.
Prima oară, la câțiva pași de tine.
Ai așezat cartea lângă mine, ușor, fără să spui nimic. Am așteptat să ieși din cameră ca să citesc cuvintele cerute cu insistență. A trebuit să îmi controlez lacrimile care îmi izbucneau din suflet și nu am știut cum să-ți răspund altfel decât strângându-te în brațe. Insuficient.
O țin lângă mine, pe masă, mereu la vedere, o ating în treacăt de fiecare dată când intru în cameră. Simbolic.

Encore

I was 14, jumping up and down with joy, my brother watching me amused. He had come one hour earlier to pick me up. He looked so pretty in the sunlight with that auburn hair, so much handsomer than I had imagined the other night in the flashing colored lights at the disco. He looked so confident, and I just went along, with no idea of what I was doing.

I was 36, jumping up and down with joy, somewhat aware and apprehensive (what would people say?). He wasn't late, but I was very early, and his first hug made me feel warm, made me feel wanted. We talked about books, calm in the rushing airport, dimming the world away. The children were sitting on the floor in a circle, playing a game; we stood and listened.

He looks like he knows what he's doing. I take his hand and follow along.