While I cannot move

I lie in bed and cannot move

Those mornings I see the sun but cannot feel it from my room

When winter allows spring to show up

But just for a moment

Your words come to me

With kindness, empathy

And mostly love

The laughs you share in words

The music you share in letters

You show up in my mornings, early than usual

You warm me up

In distance we share the sun, the winter and the short moment of spring

When I lie in my bed and cannot move

Your words see the world for me

Your letters bring the world to me

I lie there and receive

And write to the world about you

As you are exactly the poem I wanted to write

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.

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.

Happiness

Yesterday like any other evening they watched a movie. Apart. Around 8pm he always writes to her the name of the movie so that they can watch at the same time. They have been doing this for many years. After the movie they write to each other and share their thoughts on the movie.

Yesterday he picked a new movie “Hector and the search for happiness”, a light comedy of a psychiatrist and his journey in the search for happiness.

At midnight they asked each other what made them happy.

Happiness is defined by moments, short moments, long moments. An immediate well-being state of mind. There is nothing else to think about. For an instant, they are happy, just like that. Happiness is when they manage to be together. Time stays still when they are together. Only that counts. Happiness is when they forget about others, when the world outside does not exist for them anymore. Happiness is when they do not care about what could happen next. Only the “now” counts.

Happiness is looking at his eyes and seeing the light of the sun, and even the sun does not come out that day yet, it is still shiny enough. Happiness is smiling for nothing particular just because he is there.

Happiness is the idea of him. Only the idea.

Happiness is each silly emoticon he sends during the day to cheer her up.

Happiness is the good morning song he sends, the “how was your day” song he sends, the good night song he sends.

Happiness is how they live their feelings without worrying about the consequences or the future.

Happiness is how she can write about him for years and all the tiny little things concerning him could be like the universe for her.

Happiness is not only love or being loved, it is far beyond that feeling.

Happiness is particular, it is them and the way they keep on caring about their feelings.

Happiness is when there is no way out than to love each other the way they love each other. Even if they are apart and will be more than apart.

Happiness is knowing all the difficulties and not to avoid them.

Happiness is courage and in their case, certainly a great amount of craziness.

The past

Happiness is an art. I have been looking for happiness for the last 14 months. The more I look, the less I find. I have chosen a wrong path and since then living happily has become utopic.

I have been in couple for 14 months and as far as I can remember I was happier alone. It is a sad thing to say and probably I can hear people around me protesting. I believe I am happier alone. Either it is a true fact and I am just made to be alone or either I have chosen a wrong partner and my life in couple is not what I have expected.

Either way I am far from reaching happiness or the nirvana. I don’t know if I don’t want to be in couple or if I have been in a wrong relationship which led me to think that I am a person who could totally be alone, and die alone (which is even more than a truth).

The first wrong decision was to believe in the past. I was with my first boyfriend for 8 years when I was 16. I left him and we have lost contact for 20 years almost. Part of this was because he was angry at me for leaving him. Then for some reason we got back together after all these years. I have always believed that my past with him and my love for him were the most beautiful thing I had and leaving him was a biggest mistake of my life. When the opportunity showed up and pushed us back together I did not hesitate a second. It was 14 months ago. I have made space for this relationship and put all my soul into it.

The past was far past and the present is pain. The pain is so huge that I have lost all my faith, all my energy on the way to find happiness. I used to be joyful and I LOVE LIFE. I am now reduced to someone most of the time sad and weak. I hang on to the past to understand the difficulties of the present. I have nothing to hang on to except the past. The past of a story when I was 16. Destiny sucks and one thing I have learned from this story is that people do not change. Twenty years after the separation I have found the same person. The reasons that made me leave him twenty years ago could be the same for today. Nothing has changed except we are older and we are even more difficult and less tolerant.

I have been thinking for months about how one decision could jeopardize a whole life. I could walk away for the second time but for some reason I could not. Instead I stay and get sick and am sad. Someone once told me to forget the past, rectify the present so that my future can be better. I think I can’t just accept the second failure with the same person. There were too many mistakes in this decision. The thought of this person was my soulmate. The thought that this love story when we was teen-age was the best story. Now I can only blame myself for believing in the past. I have put aside the present at that moment to honor the past.

My sentimental life seems to go from one mistake to another. If happiness is the result of good decisions in your love life, then I would have to surrender, I would never be happy. Ever again.

When I was back at the gym last week and waiting for this dear friend, I realized that I had no choice to avoid pain. Could I make this past with “him” present again and put the present of the other past behind ? When I came home last week after seeing my dear friend at the gym I got back to my blog. 14 months were put on hold to live the other past. Worse thing in all of this is that I don’t even know what the word “soulmate” means. The one I believe was my soulmate only makes me suffer and the one who was unable to give me more than a conceptual love understands me more than anyone else.

Which past to choose ?

Routine

The alarm of the clock on the wall was set to end each training session after five minutes. 9pm sharp he finished the training and came toward me. I was sitting at the reception area. He touched me from behind the neck and asked if I would like something to drink. He said that the coffee here was good and strong. I said: No thanks. Wait for me I will go shower, he added.

Before he left for the shower he introduced me to the owner of the gym and his partner, then some of his sparring partners. When he came back he asked me if I wanted to visit the gym. I said yes. He told me that he liked the color of the wall, a kind of old pink color. He said he came here every evening, mostly because he is the principal coach but also because this place is his second home.

We left the gym and waited for the bus to come. The night was bright as it was full moon. It was not cold at all for a month of October. We went downtown for a drink. He did not talk a lot this time. Normally when we met each other he seemed happier. He told me not to worry as he was not in good shape. I told him that it was okay, we don’t need to talk a lot. For some reason I did not feel the need to talk a lot either. We had each of us a green tea. We looked at each other in silence. But there was no embarrassment in the silence. For the first time since we have known I asked first if we could leave. The idea of seeing him with a sad face made me even sadder than him. It was 11.30 pm. The last bus would be only in one hour. Usually we stayed until there was no more buses passing by. He said ok and held my hands for less than thirty seconds. We walked slowly to a square where all the buses stop. My bus arrived first. I kissed him very quickly on the cheek and entered the bus. He waved at me and sent me a kiss. I smiled at him and waved back.

Later in the night he wrote to me a private message on Facebook: “I am sorry. Bad mood lately. Always a pleasure to see you…”

I answered him early in the morning: “Don’t be sorry. It was nice seeing you though I never like to see you down…”

Then I opened my blog and wrote again after one year and four months of absence. About him. My inspiration.

Later on during the day I wrote him a long letter. I did not say in the letter how much I still love him. Just how much I care.

Later on that night he sent me a good-night song just like he did every night since one year and four months.

Waiting at the gym

The bus 31 took me to his gym. I have never taken the bus 31 to go to this side of the city. Eleven stops from the station. He was waiting for me at 9pm. I arrived in front of the gym at 8.10pm. There was nothing around this area except one small Migrolino – the equivalent of a 7 Eleven in the US. There were only buildings for offices with no light inside. And above the main street where his gym is located you can see a bridge illuminated in the night. I have never been to this part of the city. I was way too early so I went to buy a small coffee at the Migrolino shop. I bought a take-away Starbucks coffee whose taste was disgusting. I crossed the street and found myself in front of the gym. No one in front. No one inside of the hall. I saw the name of the gym on the first door on the left. 8.20 pm. I entered the gym and said to a man sitting at the reception desk: I am a friend of S. He answered: Oh yes please come in, he is just there.

I took off my shoes and entered the room, sitting on a sofa, facing the training area. Here he was. On the floor with a sparring partner. He waved at me and smiled and got back to a jiujit-su position. I have not seen him for three months. And most importantly, I have not written about him for more than a year. Suddenly I felt a big wave of confused feelings all over me. I was happy to see him again. After all, he is my dear friend. I was scared to feel something more than a friendship again. And what I was afraid to face was very real at the moment I saw him on the mat. I was not indifferent. Something did happen inside of me. But I tried to avoid to put a name on it.

Here he was. The man with the eyes which carry the whole humanity like I have always thought. I could see those eyes from far. I opened a book on the table and browsed it slowly. I tried to avoid to look at him train. I have never seen him train. For all those years I had no occasion to come and see him train at the gym although he had asked me more than once.

Three months ago we had dinner at my place. With his parents. When the parents left, he told them he would stay and help me clean the kitchen. We washed the dishes together. When we finished he grabbed me and kissed me. The kiss lasted forever. I kissed him back. My kiss lasted more than forever. We were friends. We had stopping being lovers for a while already. Then the kiss in the kitchen. A kiss which is not sexual. He did not stay. Though he could. I could invite him to stay though. The kiss was the one of regrets, of affection or love, the kind of love which carries the universe, which gives you the world. His kiss was that kind of kiss. And that kind of friendship.

I was still sitting on the sofa, watching him train, remembering his kiss in my kitchen. 8.46 pm. In less than ten minutes he would finish the training and would come towards me and his hand would touch my neck as a sign of greeting me.

And this is the way our friendship goes now after having been everything together. I would say hi to him and catch furtively one of his fingers.

I am back and so is he…

I was away for a while.

I thought I had nothing more to say about love. Then I was wrong.

I saw him tonight. The same. The only one about whom I wrote and the reason why I started this blog two years ago.

I saw him tonight. We are friends now. But I have been missing him all these days, months. I have been missing him so badly that tonight I decided to write about him again. After one year and three months. I have not been talking about him for one year and three months. I have been thinking of him. And missing him for one year and three months.

I am back and so is he, in my life.