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.

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Happy New Year to you !

My love,

Your words came in the night while I was asleep.

The start into 2015 seems peaceful. I am convinced that one day we will be together.

I wrote to you at 00:00 that I would bribe God to give you the best of the best.

You wrote to me that nothing should need to be said as we know we are here for each other.

I am in a couple with a man who leaves me alone yesterday evening because his child decided not to come to my place. They were up in the mountains with friends and he agreed to that. I was supposed to join them but my lumbago did not allow me to. I was surprised they did not even think to take the train 2 hours to get back to the city to be with me on the 31st. I am still with this man. I have tried and put all the efforts to make it work. I have even forgotten you to make it work. Symbolically when I am sick I cannot count on him. I don’t mind spending yesterday evening thinking of you. I only mind that I am not free and somehow I am not completely yours in this way.

I love you. I love you with everything I have, with all my heart. You have been my inspiration for the blog. You are in my mind every single day. I was such a fool to think that I could forget you and move on. You are the kind of man who prefers to see me happy with another man. You are scared not to be able to give me a stable life, a normal life. You think you are poor and cannot afford a decent life for me. But you give me everything else. You are the air that I breathe.

January the 1st. I need to get out of my relationship. Not because of you. I want to be free. Not because of you. There is no connection whatsoever between the failure of my relationship and you. Not because of you. Because of the love I have for you since years. The love which impedes me to love someone else though I tried.

You are apart. You are royal. You are everything I like, love and treasure. Everything. I can’t say enough. Everything. I can’t find anything I dislike in you. Most of all because you are free, not judgmental, generous.

I can’t write always the same thing. I love you. And as of this 1st January I will grow old with you. I have to.

And now you have a decent coffee

IMG_9212In one night snow covered the whole street and the roofs of the houses were shining in a bright sparkling white, partly because of the snow and mostly because of the reflection of the light on it. Yesterday I had a severe lumbago for the fifth time this year. The discal hernia is not getting any day better. It is just a matter of time. All was calm outside. You put on the music of the movie “Fresa y chocolate”, an old Cuban movie, one of my favorites as well as the soundtrack. You came for dinner but I could not move. I did not try to put any explanation about the pain in my back. There would be no psychological explanation this time. I believe my back was just in a very bad shape since a year. Or maybe if I dare, I have been living not such an easygoing life this past year.

You brought a small coffee maker, a metallic one, enough for two persons. I always drink instant coffee and for you an Italian, it would be a bit a pain to share an instant coffee with me even if politely you had never once criticized the awful taste of it. You said that now I can have a decent coffee in the morning. You showed me how to prepare it. You showed me how to wash it. You insisted not to use any detergent and only water. You showed me how to use the washing machine as for years now I have always washed the dishes myself. You fixed the broken lamp in the kitchen. The one in the living room and in the hall. You cleaned my computer. You installed all the apps to make it safer. You showed me everything possible that would make my life easier with a computer. You cooked as I could not. You said that you are the boss so that you could put any ingredients you like in the recipe. You cooked and cleaned. You gave me a back massage. A strong one as if I was one of your free fighters. You used the Thai massage oil – the one you gave me after your trip in Phuket.

Outside it was still snowing and even more intense. You looked outside the window and told me that you could never forget our week together in the mountains three years ago. It was two months before you left the city for the first time. We went through the memories date by date, month by month. I was surprised you remember so much about us. I told you that once before you board for Thailand I was in Tokyo, in a hotel room, waiting for your call, I was taking a bath when you called. When the phone rang I jumped out of the bath without a towel, all soaked and talked to you, naked in the room, so scared to miss your call. Funny thing is that I pretended to be totally cool when you asked me: “How are you? What are you doing?” I answered: “Oh you know, nothing special”. Yesterday night I told you the truth. I made you laugh. You remember my birthday card, a card written with a “I f…king love you” with a huge red heart on it. I gave you the card two months before your birthday so that you could have it on the birthday while traveling. But you could not wait and opened it the day after. And you told me that when we met again. I was so ashamed. It was always easier to declare one’s love by message than face to face. I told you I was ashamed and should not be doing that. You answered: it was really alright, I love the card.

We went through our years together. Upon dinner. We have our ways to talk about things without being too sentimental and yet we are. Maybe it is just the way we look at each other and the words we use are very simple, very innocent. Would it be different if we talk to each other in your mother-tongue language. You said several times you loved being with me. You used the word “love” just like that. You said you loved my hands, my smile. Simple like that when you said “love”. In your mouth it sounds simple and pure.

I told you about the tattoo of your initial once I wanted to have. You said that luckily I did not do it as for now I would regret it and a lot. No, I don’t. Even now I would not regret it. I said. You looked at me. I could read in your gaze a bit of surprise but also a bit of sadness.  “Really?”. Yes, really. You should not doubt it. I did not say it out loud. It was intense enough.

I wish I could find another way to describe “us”. I wish I had a word stronger than the one I used to define “us” and our connection. This morning I woke up. My back was still in pain. I made my first coffee with your coffee pot. It tasted much better. I washed it only with water. The snow has stopped falling for a while. The street was white. The color of the sky too. All is calm. I have always loved the next morning after being with you. Life seems different. The whole perspective of life seems different after you. Life is full of dust and you are pure and completely out of our conventional system that seeing you always make me want to accomplish greater things. You are the only person who makes me believe that I can be different and better.

I looked at my cup of coffee, half empty and half warm. I miss your eyes. I miss the way you look at my heart which is full of our memories.

In one day we enter 2015. How can I define “us” ? It is everything. From my cup of coffee which reminds me of you to anything else that exists between us for more than three years now.

2015 could be anything. I believe. If things stay this way. The question of what we would become is so secondary. Because we can be anything. You give me this. Faith and perspective.

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Just feel it right and it’s gonna be alright…

I started to watch The Mentalist again. The new season is back. Usually The Mentalist TV show is just something entertaining for me, I watch it after a long day of work, trying to relax, watching something not very complicated. I like the characters though the intrigues and stories are always quite simple. Yesterday was the first time that an episode touched me more particularly. Nothing fancy or really deep but I was in the mood for that after having posted a piece on the blog.

In the 7th season, for those who do not know, the two principal characters were finally together. Patrick Jane is IN LOVE. After seven years of watching this show, finally the male character is in love. It is very rare that on-screen two actors could have such a chemistry as Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon. More than a complicity, either they are very good actors or they are really in love off-screen. I was particularly touched by the way she looks at him. Strange, it gives me goosebumps each time.

In one episode, her ex (the one she left because of Jane) asked Jane something like: “Do you have a plan for her? I gave her a life, do you have something to offer her?”. Later on Jane told Lisbon about that, she asked him: “Yes, and do you have a plan for us” – He answered: “No. I think we know what feels right and I think that that should be our guide”

I have to admit, I have been girly and over-romantic ever since this sentence was pronounced. It seems simple but so right. Simply said and here I am, writing something about it.

I wish any woman could hear this from the man she loves.

What feels right should always be our guide.

Flow and waves

“Every true love and friendship is a story of unexpected transformation. If we are the same person before and after we loved, that means we haven’t loved enough.” (The Forty Rules of Love – Elif Sharaf)

To the people who say that I am obsessed about you, I answered I am indeed.

To the people who say that I might scare you away with my love, I answered I might indeed.

To the people who say that you are probably used to my love by now, I answered you probably are indeed.

I love you enough to bear any thoughts about us.

Loving you is like running toward the ocean, seeing the waves and throwing myself in them, letting the waves caressing my body over and over again, with no resistance.

Loving you is not only like living the flow of our story, but being the whole time the flow itself, inventing the story, inventing us, holding us in my hands, yet with no control.

But that is the difficult part to explain so I let the people think whatever they think about us. Somehow I had become the flow and the waves, taking everything about us with me. And this a long time ago.

I see you

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You know how much I like you?

When I am with other men, talking, laughing, socializing, I can see you in their eyes, in the curves of their eyebrows. I can see you looking at me and smiling to me. When they laugh, I see you.

When I walk down the street, I see an old man on a bench, eyes in the sky, I see you. I see a mother with a stroller, I see you. I see a kid with an ice cream, I see you. I see myself rubbing it to your face and licking the ice cream melting on your broken nose.

When people wish me luck to find a new man, I see you. I see myself answering them: “I had found this guy”.

You know how much I like you?

I like you as much as I can see you everywhere I go. My eyes have no other vision than you. And someday when you will disappear, I will fall into the dark of blindness. Till then, I let you be my vision, my universe, my infinity.

 

Behind that door

“Let me begin by telling you that I was in love. An ordinary statement, to be sure, but not an ordinary fact, for so few of us learn that love is tenderness, and tenderness is not, as a fair proportian suspect, pity; and still fewer know that happiness in love is not the absolute focusing of all emotion in another: one has always to love a good many things which the beloved must come only to symbolize; the true beloveds of this world are in their lovers’s eyes lilacs opening, ship lights, school bells, a landscape, remembered conversations, friends, a child’s Sunday, lost voices, one’s favourite suit, autumn and all seasons, memory, yes, it being the earth and water of existence, memory.” (Other Voices, Other Rooms – Truman Capote)

These last days I could not formulate a single word about us. I felt so comfortable, so quiet that it was impossible to express myself. Something has changed. The feeling that we are unbreakable. There are two kinds of love in this world. The one you live with the conviction that an end is waiting for you. No matter how hard you have tried to sweeten it, you can still see the end of the tunnel, with no light beyond. Then there is a kind of love that just goes on and on. You don’t need to do anything about that. It is just like an unlocked door. You just need to push it and you are on the other side. And on the other side, there is light, there is the fresh air, there is the flowers’ incense.

These last days I walked through that door. My eyes were not dazzled. My heartbeats were regular. My ears did not buzz. My sleeps were not agitated. The sun was always there in me. The warmth envelopped me. My heart was quiet. It did not shout. It did not cry. I have recognized once again true love without having him on the other side of the door. He is just in me. Breathing him like an evidence. Breathing my life without suspecting that one day something wrong could happen to us. The butterflies in my stomach have gone. The dizziness has gone. The place where my heart lives in is empty because true love does not need a place to contain it. True love is just everywhere in me and outside. Behind that door that I’d pushed to finally reach him and to accept us as we are.

I finally belong to where we are. I don’t give him my love. I don’t take it back. It is there. Like the sun right now when I look outside of the window. There are days with and there are days without. I stopped searching for the sun. I stopped looking for the beauty of love. Everything is intrinsic. Like the sun right now. Even behind my sunglasses it still frees the same powerful longlasting glare. True love has this effect. You don’t get burned. You don’t get blind. You get better. Day by day.

I am back and not cured from love

I am back and not cured from love.

Worse than ever. No, better than ever. Love is all over me. In my head. In my heart.

Things are simple but I did not always get it.

When a story is not finished, it is simply not finished. You don’t fight love. You cannot fight love. It’s something you just feel and have to accept.

You don’t “unlove” when you decide to “unlove”. There is no cure for love.

I wanted to close the blog. I wanted not to talk about love anymore. I wanted to let him go. There is nothing to do. I just can’t.

Everything will always be about him until it will naturally stops. How could I not understand it earlier? I spent the last two weeks, trying to be rational. The more I tried, the more I suffered. It was only when I surrendered my love that I was fine again.

He understood this before me. He could not let me go. We accepted our curse. Maybe one day. Maybe never. I look at the world. It is way better with him in my mind.

My only way to live and to find peace is to love him. Moving on is not a solution. Maybe one day this love will die. For now it is lively, it makes me breathe. I just have to accept it.

Laurence anyways

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Sunday evening – The last few days I thought that spring has finally shown up – I went to see a movie of the young Canadian director Xavier Dolan – “Laurence anyways”. Laurence is a high school teacher in Montreal, he writes poems, loves his girlfriend Fred and has a secret. Laurence feels like a man trapped in a woman’s body and the day he decides to share his deep secret to Fred, their exceptional love falls apart as Fred cannot stand the idea of seeing Laurence in a dress and with high heels. The movie is powerful in showing these struggling lovers, even though loving each other terribly, still cannot save their love. Laurence could not make Fred understand that his desire of being a woman has nothing to do with his love for Fred. Fred leaves Laurence, gets married, has a child. The movie is masterly directed. The soundtrack with music of the 90s gives goosebumps. Laurence never forgets Fred. He comes back to her twice but in vain. In the end he is beautiful as a woman but the expression of his face shows so much of suffering of the lost love.

It was unbearable to watch.

I got out of the movie theatre. I was with his mother. Spring was illusion. It started to snow again. It was cold once again. We said goodbye in the bus. I got out at another stop. We did not talk a lot in the bus. The movie was still in us. I believe.

I think of him.

I think of the love for him. On the bus.

I love his forehead. I love his eyebrows. I love each of his eyelashes. I love his left ear, his right ear. Swollen because of the fights. I love his chin, his lips, his twice-broken nose, his three-day beard with some grey parts. I love his arms, his forearms, his elbows, his tattoos. I love his hands, his fingers, dry because of the winter. I love his scars. I love each detail of him.

I love him like Laurence loves Fred in the movie. Like everything.

But exceptional love can be lost. As in the movie.

And as yesterday was spring and tonight is snow.

So I love him in no illusion.

An exceptional love in no illusion. tumblr_mby9mvnD4a1qi6bpc