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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What is left to do…

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I am officially depressed.

What is left to do is to collect all the snow flakes, keep them preciously in a box in a perfect temperature so they cannot melt and give them to you in summer.

What is left to do is to count my footsteps on the snow and be sure that it would be less than a billion of them until I reach you.

What is left to do is to close my eyes and be sure that your shadow will always dazzle in the dark.

What is left to do is to wallow on the snow and be sure that only the heat of my heart can save me from the cold.

What is left to do is to eviscerate myself before the feeling of missing you would empty me anyway.

I am officially depressed or I love you into depression.

How can I know ?

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(Painting of Edvard Munch “The Day After” , National Museum of Oslo)

Do you love him that much ?

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I take a walk

I distance myself

I protect myself

Not from you

But from me

Winter in me prolongs

Spring in me slows to come

Summer in me is mystery

Your smile cannot get the snow to melt

I look at you and ask myself:

“Do you love him that much?”

I guess the answer is still yes

But why then winter never ends

Do I love you that much?

To not fear winter

To live in no season

In timeless longings

Will you be there to mend

The fragile non-existing spring of my heart?

 

Let me think

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In the past – In the last year I said that loving you is self-redemption. You had saved me. Somehow. In the lost path of mine scattered with insignificant feelings. Then you came. Offering me a new world. Renewing my soul.

This morning I woke up with the most awkward, terrifying thought. Do I still need to love you now that I am self-redeemed, now that I am saved?

Not that I am an ungrateful person. Not that you had saved me then we are almost done. Loving you the last past year had proved to me how capable I could love, how intense I could become when I fell in love.

It made sense to me but then it’s fading. The love and you. So airy. So light. So distant. Suddenly that thought: And if I don’t love you anymore?

Could it be gone the love? Or it is just temporary? Let me think. Usually I don’t think when it comes to love you. Now I have to think to feel. Usually I just feel.

What happened to me ? Is it the cold ? Is it the long winter? Is it because of all the trips far away from home? Is it because I feel so free?

Is it possible that I don’t love you anymore ? Just like that. The self-redemption stays with me forever. Is the love gone ?

Let me think. Let me think. Let me think.

I still want to love you. I just don’t feel it. Today. This damn morning of winter.

White ice

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Another country

Another beauty

A dry cold

Not a soul

Not a sound

Some boats passing by under the fog

My hands were almost frozen

Sometimes I heard in my head the song

You’d sent me in the morning

Most of the times it was me and the silence

The sky was so grey and heavy

If I could catch a ray of sun

I would wrap it in my frozen hands

And sent it to you in a postal letter

In an old way with envelop and stamp

I would like to bring you the flowers of spring

All I could see is white ice

Asking me to offer to you anyway

I would heat up the earth

To have you here and warm

Another country

Another trip

Same love

Same you

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One by one

After a few warm days

Here comes again a cold front

Snow starts to fall

Here I am

Murmuring barely perceptible sounds

Words of love are not supposed to be said

But supposed to be sung

In thousands of language

And whispered

One by one

Like the snow flakes

Brushing against your ears

Words of love

Lightly dancing around you

One by one

Hello

You

I

Love

You

Now

And

Forever

ZH1

I am out of control

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Live the emotions with no further thoughts

Just live the emotions – don’t think

I repeat this to myself thousands times this morning

Don’t overanalyse

I am scared

Reunion with someone who is your everything

After so many months

I am out of control

I feel like having twenty fingers

My stomach hurts but it is not the butterflies

I feel like having three heads

My organs interchange their places

I am out of order

I am out of control

Is love supposed to be that way?

Just live the emotions

Is almost torture

While I am asleep

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Please see for me if he is fine

I will close my eyes

I need to sleep tight

Just for a little while

Please see for me if he is alright

While I am asleep

I cannot think of him

Please think of him for me

Just for a little while

I trust you to be on his side

I don’t need a lullaby

Please take care of him

While I am asleep

And dream and dream

And dream and dream

Of him