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.

Bad habit

When I was twenty, each time I did a silly thing for love, I said to myself: “It’s ok, it’s a bit crazy but you are twenty, it’s ok”. When my first boyfriend and I broke up. I was so devastated, I stayed in bed for exactly a month. I did not show up at my 11 exams at the end of my sophomore year. I got 11 “zeros”, yes, 00000000000, not even a “1”, because the grade of “1” is reserved for those who show up but don’t have a clue about the exam material. Then I took the train to go see him where he lived, a small city 5 hours by train from mine, got there, saw him, cried and took the train back, in the same evening. Or argued with him outside in winter time, in pajamas, barefoot, freezing cold, one hour talk, and caught straight after that a bronco-pneumonia and two weeks of hospital.

When I turned thirty, I kept on doing silly things for love, less often but once in a while. “Come on, it’s gonna be ok. You only live once” – I reassured myself. I quit my job, followed my boyfriend at that time to Argentina, after two weeks of dating. And you know why ? I never like cocky men. Instead I like shy men who have difficulties to express their feelings, to some extreme sometimes.  I loved this guy because, during the whole time we dated (two years at least), he always ended his love letters for me with: “kind regards”. I found it uncommon and cute.

And then I reach forty, same thing happens. Each time I feel the need to do crazy stuff  for love, I use the same kind of speech: “Do you want to say to yourself at eighty, oh I had a good life with nice moments or damn I should have done that…”. So…

Six months ago, I was walking around Paris and suddenly in a small street, I ran into a boutique with a huge sign, painted with the first name of my  “by that time” lover. I took a picture of it and sent it to him – “Hey, you are everywhere, I see you everywhere.”  – “No, it’s not true, I am not everywhere.”

I came back from Paris, checked online the directories of all shops with his first name, in all parts of the country. From that day, every Saturday, I took the train to each one of these places and took a photograph. I went to places I have never heard of. But discovered some nice villages. Seems like people adore his first name, they use it to name their hair salons, their yoga studios, their ateliers.

Once, I passed by an art gallery with his name in Phuket. I was in the car with my aunt and could not tell her to stop so I could take a picture. All the streets in Phuket look alike, same traffic, same signs, same mess. I tried to memorize the streets, each roundabout, each red light. As soon as we reached home, I jumped on my aunt’s bike and tried to get back to this place again. It was not that easy. My memory failed me a bit. After 50 minutes biking under the heat and dust, getting lost, seeing all the time the same roundabout but not the right one, I finally found the place. The sun was strong and his name seemed to pop out of the sign, in bright red. I took not one photograph, but three, just to be sure. With my iPhone and my camera. No comments.

I have 21 pictures of these premises. As a scientist, once again, I have got the proof that he is everywhere. Irrefutable proof.

But from now on, I restrain myself from saying this “Carpe diem – We only live once” thing. Even if the smile in his eyes when he saw the dedicated album was quite rewarding.