Sunday walking through a park

Sunday early evening. You walk with him through a quiet park. It is icy cold. The air is pure and fresh. The park is desert. He was born in this neighborhood. He says that he knows every single house and building near this park. As a kid he used to distribute advertising and newspaper in exchange of some pocket money. He tells you that. “Are you cold?” he asks. “Yes, a bit”, you answer. “Come closer to me”. You take his arms. “May I?” you ask. “So this is where you grew up…”. You feel like you had known him since lives, before you were even born. He walks you through his neighborhood. The bus stop where he waited for the bus to come as a kid. The hospital where he was born.

Sunday noon. You arrive at his parent’s. You are invited for lunch. You are sharp on time. You kiss his mom and dad. You are in the kitchen with his mom. He arrives with ten minutes late. He kisses you greetings. He says that he likes your dress. “Is it new?” He smiles at you. The lunch lasts for five hours. He has a healthy relationship with his parents. They laugh a lot. He teases you most of the time. Conversations split into two camps: you and his mom, him and his dad. Everyone teases everyone. You defends his mom. He teases you and defends his dad. The basic jokes on women and men’ differences. His mom shows you his pictures when he was a baby, then a kid, then an adolescent. Sometimes he caresses your cheeks. You blush as you are in front of his parents.

Sunday early evening. You say thank you and goodbye to his parents. They give you cake and food from Italy to bring home. Each time is the same. You never go home empty hand. He kisses them goodbye. You two leave the house together. There he shows you the park and his neighborhood.

It is icy cold. Your heart is warm. His hands are warm. His arms are warm. You wait for the bus with him. You can feel his breathe close to your cheeks. You cannot look at him into the eyes. He kisses you a thousands of times goodbye. He looks for your eyes. And lips. Your bus arrives first. You bite his lips gently and say bye. You walk toward the bus and still feel his eyes behind your back. You imagine you are twelve years old and him too. You imagine him exactly like on the pictures of his album. You are already with him by then. Your love has lasted the years of childhood and until now. And this Sunday is not the only one as there has been tons of those Sundays before this one. He is beyond time as so is your love for him.

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Pink clouds

He arrives in a cold evening of February two days before Valentines. You have your Valentines celebration early this year. He arrives in a foggy evening when outside is all dark and the only thing you can see is his smile. He arrives and the first thing he asks you is what you would like to eat on Sunday at his parents’ place. He says that he would have to write to Mom and tell her to cook for you what you like most. He says Mom and Dad and never says “my Mom” and “my Dad”. You like the sound of these two words. Everything with him is simple and yet perfect.

You like these evenings with him as he is happy with everything you give him. He loves your food. Any kind. He likes the bottle of wine you choose. He likes the tea you prepare. He helps you to set the table. He puts the candles. He puts on your favorite music. He shows a new radio station with the music you love. He listens to your stories from the office. You ask advices from him. You tell him that one of your colleagues gets divorced. You were with him at her wedding five years ago. He says he is sorry and asks why she left. You ask him about the ideal couple for him. He says he does not know but he thinks you two get very close to that concept. He says he feels comfortable in your company. He is himself and maybe that is for him the ideal couple. You say that you do not see him often to be in couple with him but everything is right when you are with him. You say that is enough. You can nourish yourself with the intensity of your feelings and these evenings.

He makes love to you the way that no one had ever done to you before. You think that describing how it is is just not powerful enough. You feel his skin and he is yours every second of the night. You say something that you had never said to anyone before him: Oh my baby you are the best. He says that you should be forbidden. The night is too short. You cannot sleep. He looks at you the whole night. You cannot speak. You just wait for his kiss. A thousands of them arrive on your body and your lips. You say that you two should get away from this world. He says “whenever”.

You do not exaggerate. He is perfection. You and him are perfection. When you describe “you and him”, it sounds normal and simple but when you are with him, nothing is normal. You float through a parade of pink clouds. You cannot be on earth for days after he leaves. You cannot work or concentrate. His kisses are on your mind. His words, his gazes, his strong hands.

He says thank you a thousands of time. He says: see you in two days at mom’s and dad’s. He leaves and then comes back to kiss you again. He does this at least four times until you say: go ! go ! go !

You waive at him from the window. The morning is still foggy. Pink clouds are nowhere but in your heads. But suddenly you spot a pale pink cloud from far. It smiles to you. The way he smiles to you.

Will you still love me tomorrow ?

Tonight you’re mine completely
You give your love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?

Is this a lasting treasure
Or just a moment’s pleasure?
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?
Will you still love me tomorrow?

Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I’m the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night meets the morning sun?

I’d like to know that your love
Is love I can be sure of
So tell me now, and I won’t ask again
Will you still love me tomorrow?

 

He thought he did not deserve you. He stepped back so someone else could take his place. For a moment he thought you would be happier like this. He thought you would be better without him and you could build a nice life with someone else. Whatever decision you had made and told him, he accepted without being mad or angry at you. As your best friend, he accepted that you walked away from him.

You have been waiting for him during his trip away from home. He could not offer a conventional couple to you. Even though you did not ask for it. He thought he could not and you could not deal with it. All of these “you thought that I thought”.

He was waiting for you and left you with space. He lets you take him back when you are ready. You had tried with someone else. It did not work out. You have one love and it is HIM. You do not need to explain.

He is there, waiting for you. You open the door and he falls in your arms. He does not say anything and neither do you. You know that in whatever form or shape, you and him would be together this time forever. You are born again. And so is he. You stay in his arms for a long twenty minutes. His head on your shoulder. He squeezes your tiny body with his strong arms. He is beautiful. He smells good. He feels strong. He is strong. You do not look into his eyes. Your legs feel weak. If you look into his eyes, you will faint. Then comes the kiss. The one that defines love. Only by him and you. You feel his lips. You have never been kissed before. You are a virgin. He is your first. This is your first kiss ever. He makes you forget all men who were there before him. Five years ago, you had kissed him for the first time. Each time when your lips touch his, it feels like the first time. He kisses you as if you were his oxygen. Then comes his voice: “It was too long. It was too long. I have waited. I have waited. You can have everything from me, you know that, just ask me.”

And now you look at him. You cannot believe. You think you are dreaming. You look at him. Your love for him is powerful. Your knees are shaking. You fall. He catches you.

“I am poor. I have nothing. I cannot give you much. You know that. If you are with someone else, you  can have a good life. I can wait longer.”

You do not answer right away. You cannot breathe. You fully understand for once the meaning of true love. It is his love for you and yours for him.

“You don’t need to wait. I am here.”

Five years when absence meant nothing to you, challenges were easy, obstacles were insignificant. Five years you have loved him. As a friend. As a best friend. As a lover. As everything you can be. And apparently him too. True love is absolutely beautiful and strange. You can be apart but never separated. In your mind you die with him and your love. You grow old with him. You can live apart or together. This is the most powerful thing you have ever experienced in love.

This morning when you listened to Bryan Ferry’s version of “Will you still love me tomorrow?” , the most beautiful version of this song, you feel cocky because of course he will still love you tomorrow and the day after, and the day after and the day after and in a century time. Like he did these last five years. When you were with him or with someone else.

This morning you stayed longer in bed. You felt warm. Of him inside you. He gives the new meaning to the “making love” words. It all makes sense. You are his virgin. You have never made love with another man before him. There was no men before him and after him. You asked for more. Of him inside you. “You can have everything from me, you know that, just ask me”. He said it once again. You feel your naked body under his strong body. “Say it again please. I want more. I want everything.” He obeyed. You came together. He cried. He is your redemption. You always know that.

The sound of love when it walks away…

The sound of love when it walks out of your heart is just as silent as a drop of snow hitting the sidewalk. For a moment you think that you can die when your love is gone. Your heart has no more space and you cannot bear one more negative feeling. You know that your love story hits an end. You feel that it is over. You do not look for any other rational or irrational reasons. You let your love go away. You say goodbye to it. You do not feel free right away. You feel peace. You struggle for months to keep the love you had. But then you realize that it was vain and you lost the battle. The love you feel is just gone. No matter how hard you hold on to it. The machine maintaining life for your love makes the last sound. Your love is not viable anymore. Dead. Gone.

Not loving someone anymore is a strange process. The departure is never abrupt. It is a long and painful process. You are not sure. First you do not understand why it happened to you. First you are very sad. You think you did something wrong. You think you screw up everything. You blame yourself for not getting things fixed. But then you realize that your love was dying for months ago already. Out of despair, disappointments and painful negociations.

The sound of love when it walks away is peaceful. Not joyful but peaceful. It is a relief that love comes to an end. For those who love to love this could be illogical and unacceptable. But it happens. Love can die and cannot breathe through misunderstandings and incessant complications.

Let it die. Accept it. Understand it and let it go.

This morning love walked out of your body and you fully accepted it. You did not fight back. It was silent this morning. Silence not emptiness.