A recurring dream

You dream of him again. Not a surprise. A recurring dream. You are with him at this restaurant in Montauk (it is strange that you always think of this place – you have never been there but always wish to go) and you are having oysters. You do not even know if he eats oysters. Maybe because you wrote to him yesterday about being by the beach in Montauk.

You have this image of you two at that beach – desert and untouched landscape. You talk to each other. But you seem shy. You talk more by moments. Then stay silent suddenly then ask again lots of questions. You do not know where to start. He is patient. You look at him non-stop. You do not want to waste any minute when you are with him. Every minute counts as it is a dream and if you did not enjoy it as much as you could, he will be gone when you wake up.

In the dream, you never touch him. Not just once. You just stare at him. Your eyes say more than words. Words of a new-born love.
The “erotic density” between you two is palpable. You are separated from him by a fragile wall made of foam. All you need to do is to touch it softly with your fingers to pierce it and be even closer to him.

A recurring dream with recurring desires. In your dream, you imagine how soft the skin of his face would be. How soft the skin of his hands would be. In your dream, you imagine efflorescing his eyelids. His eyes are close. He seems peaceful, waiting for your fingers.


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!

Fiction or reality?

My friends keep on asking me about the part of fiction and reality written in my blog. Is it all fiction or all reality or half and half. Do I love that much? Do I suffer that much? Am I that sad? My friends ask me a lot: “Who is the HE in the blog?” or “Who is who?”.

How can I answer? I am not sure I want to reveal what is fictional and what is real in the blog. You can imagine whatever you think is right and suitable for you and your moods the moment you read the post. What is certain is I am sincere and so are my words. Now, if I love that much, if I suffer that much, if I am that sad, sometimes yes, sometimes no. I still have to live, to work, to eat, to drink, outside of my blog. Sometimes I am sadder than my words and sometimes I am a bit less. I also know that I think much more about different things in my life than all these feelings of love expressed in my blog. But this blog is dedicated to love and all the complicated situations one can meet when in love. So of course, you will read a lot about love.

If I want to give a reasonable answer, I could say, a bit of everything happens in my life right now is in the blog. The love for the loved one (s) is always true. And that is all that matters. I share to you a bit and a lot of me with pleasure and honesty. The loved ones can recognize themselves in the blog or not if they ever come to read the posts once or twice. For me, it is more about the people who read my blog all over the world and whom I don’t know personally. It is much more important to me if you, my readers enjoy the blog. I have no intention of sending any particular messages to anyone who might recognize themselves being described in the blog. They are all my inspiration and of course I have loved them for having inspired me. But that was all. I don’t aim anything particular in this blog except for the pleasure of writing and sharing to readers some feelings about love, happiness or sadness.

For those who care about me like my family or my mother, I want to tell them not to worry that much, I am fine. Maybe sad sometimes but totally fine. Because I have come to accept that I cannot have everything and sadness is part of life. For those who do not care and who might think that the blog is about them, God forbid they should not become arrogant and self-sufficient, fiction is a great part of imagination and creativity of a writer.

I hope I had answered the question about fiction and reality.

To the readers, thanks for reading and following me.

For the lovers, ex-lovers, friends and people who inspire me in this blog, thanks for being someone who has once counted in my life.

Now we are four when we are together

Where is the line between love and friendship for two people of opposite sexe?

A very thin line. Or none I think.

Love and friendship have many facets with multiple shades and colors. Feelings in-betweens interweaved. Difficult to draw a sharp line and distinguish which is which sometimes. Love for a lover is strong, love for a friend could also be. Maybe it’s the expectation which makes the difference. We expect less from a friend to love us back with the same ardor. Maybe.

I am writing about this because I truly don’t know if I am not a little bit in love with my dearest friend. It’s a kind of feeling so close to love which makes me think that it should be love somehow. Even more than love. There is an immense affection and tenderness when I think of him. But the difference is I never try to oppress these feelings. I am proud to feel them. And I have never felt frustrated. While with a lover, I am more scared, I withhold the love feeling, I try to escape. Things are less spontaneous, more calculated. I hate being overwhelmed by my love. But with a close friend, when you really love him, the sentiment seems to set you free. A friend is more indulgent to your affection, I think and it eases things. And maybe and I said “maybe”, you don’t miss a friend as much as a lover/boyfriend. You don’t long for your closest friend. You are not obsessed about him.

Last week was a difficult week. Getting up was an effort. Then I realized that I just needed some doses of him to feel better. His presence, his witty spirit and friendship should be a remedy for my sadness. He is officially my only joy at this moment and the only one who could boost me up. So yesterday morning I asked him to see me.

He came by the same evening. He did not ring but used the spare keys I had given him.  I already liked this feeling. He opened the door, said hi. I was in the living room, reading a newspaper. Nice opening scene.

As usual he started to play piano. Extracts of the piano concerto no. 20 of Mozart. He sang, imitating an opera singer and looked at me while playing. I was a bit speechless. I have seen him playing piano and singing a lot of times at my place, still each time when it happens, I am always a bit dizzy with happiness. He plays not only well, he plays with his soul even if it was just for a few minutes. My heart was musical and my heartbeat tried not to skip any notes. This moment was already the very beginning of what I define as love. I could be wrong. But I worship this wonderful feeling. Right there friendship and love are mixed, together with the piano sound.

He said that he did not appreciate HIS character in my blog. Because the guy in my imagination is much better and nicer than him. This “romanticized” character is so idealized that he is afraid to not being able to measure up to his idyllic image, the one I deliberately invented. He said he did not want to disappoint me, and the way I embellished him showed him that definitely I was not enough satisfied with him in real life (damn cute!). And that it can be annoying a so perfect character. He said that it would not help me either having made up this kind of hero because I would have a hard time to find a real man in life. “HE” in the blog would not pop out of it to be with me for real (cute again! who cares anyway, in real life, I have him…).

I let him talk. I think he is much better than his fictional clone because he is REAL. I know that I did not beautify or aggrandize him. He is just like that. Brainy, scintillating. But I did not want to explain everything to him. I just told him: “Hey, leave him alone, leave YOUR character alone, he is perfect. I forbid you to criticize him.”

He said now it is all crowded when we are together, with so many ideas and thoughts and because we were four in the room. He and his ideas on his character in the blog. He and his ideas about himself in real life (he repeated a lot of times that he did not like the way he is. He did not like being different already at the age of 14), me and his character, and then me and my ideas about him. It was always a great moment to see him talking like that. Did I once tell you that he is complicated ???

When he left, I thought: “Love or friendship ?”  Both for sure. Definitely love, the purest kind, the innocent one. But with moments of desires if I want to be honest. I think somehow I would succumb this physical limit and desires if he once tried to push me in that direction. I would not be able to say no. It could be so confused sometimes. I miss him. I do not long for him. I am not thinking of him all the times. Sometimes I think of him with sexual phantasms. Most of the times, it is just platonic. But what is important is that whatever I do or think, I can always share with him. And he is never scared of me and my nuts feelings.

He seems so perfect, right ? But he is not, his unique biggest and unforgivable flaw: he is 21.(sigh!)

Reality is not in my vocabulary

I am sure you are at least once, if not many times in your lives, touched or affected by some catchphrases, dialogs or movie scenes. I am not any different, if not worse. Some love scenes or dialogs (or silence) could kill me. Out of their beauties and power.

I could never forget:

1. The way we were (with Barbara Streisand and Robert Redford):

Evening – somewhere outside. She sees him on the other side of the street. She crosses the street to talk to him. He looks at her, says nothing, bends slightly, takes her leg and ties her laces.

2. Out of Africa (again with Redford and Meryl Streep):

Afternoon – He washes her hair.

3. Once upon a time in America (with Robert de Niro – after this movie, I have always thought he could stop acting for good, he could never play in another movie that could live up to that one, he had reached in “Once upon a time in America” the apotheosis of  the art of acting. Anyway it is just my humble opinion):

Evening – He invites Deborah for dinner.

“You want a place by the ocean. I had it opened. It was closed for the season. All these tables are for two people. Pick whatever one you want”.

They dance in the empty restaurant.

He repeats a poem she used to read to him : “How beautiful are your feet / In sandals, O prince’s daughter/ Your navel is a bowl / Well-rounded with no lack of wine / Your belly, a heap of wheat / Surrounded with lilies / Your breasts / Clusters of grapes / Your breath, sweet-scented as apples.”

4. Love story (with Ali Mc Graw and Ryan O’Neal):

Afternoon – Outside – they play with the snow, in a park. Music and unforgettable soundtrack.

Evening – In front of the porch – After a fight, Jenny, in her tears: “Love means never having to say you’re sorry”.

5. And recently “Drive” (with Ryan Gosling)

In the elevator – he looks at the killer, turns to her – Not a word, silence, and kisses her. The kiss lasts for at least three minutes.

6. My movie

Before he left, we did not discuss the ending or how we were supposed to live our time apart. For me, it was more “The end” than “To be continued”. I did not know if I could see him, ever again. I have decided to not expect anything else from that moment.

The day he left, he called me from the gate, a few minutes before boarding. I had bought a new laptop a week earlier. I told him on the phone.

“Don’t throw away your old laptop. When I am back, I will have a look at it, see why it’s so slow, I will clean it for you” – he said to me.

I died after this answer.