There was that one second.

The third day after Italy. You wake up this morning thinking of him. Like a routine. No surprise. He is under your skin. Any small particles of your skin has a bit of something of him. The longing of his caresses and kisses is there. Not as strong as the day before. But still there.

Before you went to sleep last night, he sent you some pictures of your trip together. Without comments. Just some pictures. You replied to him with an emoji who waives a Hi. And that was about it. You are always shy. You could write to him every hour. You could send to him heart emojis. Tons of them. But you never did. Even if when he sent them to you. You answered with a smile.

Though love is not a game, you do not reveal yourself. You are always careful. You protect yourself, building a wall between him and you. And why is that? You are afraid he is not available. You are afraid things will change between you two if you open yourself up. You wish you could one day put down this wall between you two and tell him how much you care for him.

In Italy you realize you have surrendered him. In Italy when he holds your hands, walking around the Old Town, when he stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, around a corner, to kiss you. You know you have crossed the line of no-return. You could no longer protect yourself. There is this fatal second when you know you are falling in love and cannot take it back.

There is that moment when he tells you that the only person who cares about him in this world is probably you. He says this, holding your hands and looking at you. This moment lasts one second, two seconds or ten seconds, it does not matter.

Strategy. Protection. Rationality. Control. There was that one second when all of these have no more power. The brain has surrendered. One second. That is all. Like Murakami said: the rose is red, the ice is cold, I am in love.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s