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.

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.

When does my love begin?

The smell of candles – wild autumnal flowers perfume – makes me think of you tonight. What I remember most is your perfume, how your skin smells. When you enter the room. The moment you open the door in the morning, there is this smell. The good and sweet smell of something fresh and clean. Something new. Yes, when you arrive in the morning, you are the first breeze of the winter, of the summer.

I was not in love with you at that time. Though I remember you could numb me. By moments. I could feel dizzy being close to you sometimes. Before I fell in love, I fell in love with your smell, your patience and your tolerance. Not once I had to justify myself in front of you. And little by little I just realized that it was all thanks to you. And about you. Your perfume, the way you let people live, the way you let me live. The moment I had to almost hide myself, you were the one to tell me to get out of my hidden place. And I love you for that. I love you for letting me be myself, be “ME”. It was such a relief to be with you at that time. I love our friendship before I love you.

You are probably the person with whom I can be absolutely sincere and honest and naked. You can read me. My mind.

I don’t know what I can expect more than that. From you. There is nothing more to expect.

I see my love as a miracle. You are absent most of the times. But I could never forget that you were the first one to encourage me to be me. Even if you would never be here again, this marks me forever. By that time I left behind everything of a normal life and nobody understood my decision. But during our talks, you understood me. Maybe you pretended so to get to know me better, maybe you wanted to be my closest friend. I don’t care about your intentions. You gave me the first vision that a woman could be anything. Anything really.

When does my love begin? Certainly at that moment. Not in a kiss. Not under moonlight. Not with candlelights. But in something much more essential. You gave me the real instinct and desire of living my freedom, before the society.

I love you for that. The wonderful smell of yours and the unique taste of my freedom you once gave me.

Just love. Don’t worry.

247259_475625735805243_743974798_n

I have gotten some critics for my last posts, especially about the pure love. Love without expecting, love selflessly, love out of time and reality.

Some critics are that for some people love IS EVERYTHING and if they lose love, they have nothing left.

Some critics are that I have a life elsewhere; work, friends, family so I don’t live thinking love is everything and that I can love without expecting because my life is full with other activities.

Some critics are that I don’t defend women, I don’t stand by women. And because of my way of loving, men could easily deny the responsibilities and leave women in despair.

On the contrary, I do think I am standing firmly on the women’ side. I do think that love IS EVERYTHING but love is not dependency. The coolest thing when you love selflessly and with no expectations is that you will see very quickly how receptive and perceptive is the loved person. You will know very quickly if that person is made for you. Loving someone selflessly is not just to love in emptiness. And this also applies in friendship. Give whatever you can and have. You will see that either the other person is totally perceptive about your feelings and sooner or later, he/she will love you back (even though you do not expect it at the first place), either he/she will not understand and reject you quite quickly. Either way you will know sooner or later.

Loving beyond conventional rules and expectations fulfill you. You are completed by your love. Saying it, feeling it, proving it, always in agreement with your inner self. Don’t write a “I love you” and wait for a “I love you too”. Don’t give and wait for something in return. Just do it when you feel like. If there is no echo at all, the love will fade away somehow (because it is normal, we are normal human being, we are not God, Jesus or Buddha) but you are in peace all the way long. Don’t torture yourself expecting for something to come from the other person. Don’t put your happiness in his/her hand. Treat yourself good and he/she will treat you well too. Love him/her passionately but love yourself more and even more passionately. Don’t give anyone the power to make you happy or complete. Just love without thinking. All the good things will come. Just love and give that love some cool time. Let him/her know you love them. Let them live their love the way they want. Set them free to love you or not. Don’t guess their feelings, don’t second guess their thoughts. Love, do, give, act always FOR YOU. For only you. Just love. Don’t worry. Don’t think more than that.

musee

PS: I particularly like this picture of mine, taken yesterday at a museum in my city. It reflects exactly my state of mind and soul. Me standing on my own, not fragile. Even my shadow seems peaceful. Because I love him exactly the way I describe to you. No more no less.

Love is an easygoing feeling

05a3bc7c78df11e2ad9722000a9e2977_6

I have a friend visiting me this weekend. We talked. About work. Life. And love.

She could not understand my “position”, my “approach” in love.

I kept repeating, there is nothing to understand. There is no rules, no conventional things, no unconventional ideas. Love is beyond forming a couple, mostly about sharing. In any form. In any shape. In daily life. In virtual interactions. Whatever it suits you and you feel like living it. I cannot put my feelings in a category, wishing for one thing, dreaming for one thing. I don’t define love. I just feel it and live.

She seemed skeptical.

I could not make her understand. I just said: I just love him. The love is there. Stronger than me. It’s not rational nor irrational. It’s just there. I cannot fight it, erase it. I cannot tell you more. I just love him.

I have written all the time about that. Pure love. People around me find it strange.

Love is what then for you?

Simple example: I asked him to bring me back a special cream made of lemongrass for pain muscles, only made in Asia. I took a picture of it. One hour later, he sent me a picture of the cream and wrote: “hey, is this the right one?”.

I read it and it was enough for me to feel that love. I can fly without wings at that moment. I don’t care if he is here, will be here, was here. Love is being happy in whatever form and feeling the feeling every single minute of it. No worrying of the future. No obsession of the past. I have said that so many times. I wish I could make myself clearer. Love is telling him I love you any day in the year, the Valentine’s day, the day after, now, later on. Writing to him ten times a day and sometimes nothing for ten days. No consequences. No calculations. No drama. Just bliss. And he receives the message. With a smiley. Sends back a song, two songs, ten songs. That is it. Easygoing. He is. I am. We are.

My friend is still skeptical. It would be great if she could understand me. But it’s fine anyway if she does not.

e8bcb85878dd11e29a0922000a1f8c1a_6

PS: this my favorite fountain in town

To him all the hearts that I can’t count

306442_165314150271154_83368822_n

I am the strongest person on earth. I have an iron kind of will. I am like a robot. A machine. Everything under control.

I am just kidding. Let me explain to you why.

Yesterday the whole day I swore to myself not to send him anything, because it was the Valentine’s day and it would look so obvious and trivial. And he is definitely not the kind of man waiting for a sweet word for Valentines. The whole day I wanted to say hello to him, write him something sweet but I resisted, I was so proud of myself. No sign of me broken under the pressure of the Valentine’s day. Proud proud and proud.

But but but…

This morning very early, I could not resist anymore. The Valentine’s day is over. So here was what I wrote to him:

(I don’t want to hear your laughs…..I can hear it…..Promise me you won’t laugh !)

Here was what I wrote before the first coffee (maybe that was why !!!)

“Voilà, the V-day is over, so now I can finally write to you. I wanted to send you yesterday at least a million of hearts, but when I counted up to one hundred, I lost track…and then I did not want to appear too girly…So here it is, one heart for the day after the V-day”

I am so girly. I admit. But it feels so good to say that to him.

To him all the hearts that I can’t count.

What is sweet about hometown

I haven’t been back in my hometown for exactly six months. I had been quite unfaithful, traveling around the whole summer and autumn and never had time to go back.

But today I am back

And you know what is sweet about hometown ?

EVERYTHING

Hometown is

First school – First party – First boyfriend – First kiss – First fight – First break-up

Hometown is

Old streets – Old friends – Old jokes

Hometown is

The good smell of soap of my pajama

Waiting for me on my bed

At my family’s place

Hometown is

Lilou

This small dog “who” is my godson because I picked him up in a small farm when he was two- weeks oldphoto lilou

Hometown is

pretty EVERYTHING

Blogging

My dearest MD.,

Yesterday you told me that you started to worry about me and my blog. You said that it seemed like I started to live in a parallel world, the one inside my blog. I hide myself. You said I have difficulties with expressing my emotions and feelings verbally, without the support of the written words. You found me more and more lonely. You did not deny that it was quite tempting because the world of blogging and the interaction with followers and bloggers are really nice. But you are scared and have the feeling that I had somehow renounced to live a real life. You told me that real pleasures, real encounters are much more beautiful and worthwhile. You gave me a nice piece of thought and advice.

But I just want you to know that it was not true that I never expressed my feelings verbally. I did it yesterday evening. And I did it a few times with you too. Though I have to admit, you got more declarations from me through this blog and text messages.

Please understand me, my efforts to live normally outside of my blog are continuous and important. I did try to live in a real world outside of my blog. But I have to admit, at this point, with a broken heart, I am a bit scared to face the world one more time. Enjoying real pleasures and tasting new sensations offered by real life seem to me an utopia right now. It seems like I don’t fit in the world where too many rules are fixed, where the one who is sincere with his feelings will always be considered weak. I am escaping from the real world just to avoid some pain. You know that, don’t you? Maybe I am hiding in my blog because I have a hard time right now. But don’t worry I will be back, in good shape. Just let me heal.

Thanks for feeling concerned, one more time. You are really nice to me. I could write right now: I adore you, MD. But I will save it for the next time I see you. I will say it to you in real life.

Good night, MD!