Behind that door

“Let me begin by telling you that I was in love. An ordinary statement, to be sure, but not an ordinary fact, for so few of us learn that love is tenderness, and tenderness is not, as a fair proportian suspect, pity; and still fewer know that happiness in love is not the absolute focusing of all emotion in another: one has always to love a good many things which the beloved must come only to symbolize; the true beloveds of this world are in their lovers’s eyes lilacs opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape, remembered conversations, friends, a child’s Sunday, lost voices, one’s favourite suit, autumn and all seasons, memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory.” (Other Voices, Other Rooms – Truman Capote)

These last days I could not formulate a single word about us. I felt so comfortable, so quiet that it was impossible to express myself. Something has changed. The feeling that we are unbreakable. There are two kinds of love in this world. The one you live with the conviction that an end is waiting for you. No matter how hard you have tried to sweeten it, you can still see the end of the tunnel, with no light beyond. Then there is a kind of love that just goes on and on. You don’t need to do anything about that. It is just like an unlocked door. You just need to push it and you are on the other side. And on the other side, there is light, there is the fresh air, there is the flowers’ incense.

These last days I walked through that door. My eyes were not dazzled. My heartbeats were regular. My ears did not buzz. My sleeps were not agitated. The sun was always there in me. The warmth envelopped me. My heart was quiet. It did not shout. It did not cry. I have recognized once again true love without having him on the other side of the door. He is just in me. Breathing him like an evidence. Breathing my life without suspecting that one day something wrong could happen to us. The butterflies in my stomach have gone. The dizziness has gone. The place where my heart lives in is empty because true love does not need a place to contain it. True love is just everywhere in me and outside. Behind that door that I’d pushed to finally reach him and to accept us as we are.

I finally belong to where we are. I don’t give him my love. I don’t take it back. It is there. Like the sun right now when I look outside of the window. There are days with and there are days without. I stopped searching for the sun. I stopped looking for the beauty of love. Everything is intrinsic. Like the sun right now. Even behind my sunglasses it still frees the same powerful longlasting glare. True love has this effect. You don’t get burned. You don’t get blind. You get better. Day by day.

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