Chapters

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Thirty-Three

I was walking through a park in the middle of the city and I saw someone who looked familiar.
“Could it be him?!”, I thought.
But then my brain connected the dots: that person wouldn’t be here. He’s afraid of flying!
Haha.
Here.
But wait!
“Where is ‘here’?”
I wondered confused for a split second, until I looked at my left and saw the castle of Edinburgh just sitting there on top of a mountain and then I remembered. It’s the end of September, and I’m in Scotland for the weekend. My mind has been everywhere and so has my body lately, and I felt positively lost for a moment. Travelling through time zones, swapping bikinis for scarves within a day, going from street food breakfasts to potato based dinners. Life has been eventful – and isn’t exactly that I’ve always asked for?
Yes. Yes, it is!

It was a New Year’s resolution I confess I didn’t know I would be able to keep up with, and though a mild concern for my finances next year somewhat ping on my mind from time to time, I am committed to living today and carrying on with the feels. The tides have been high and low, and on both I have swam, strengthened, survived.

At each take off and each arrival, a new feeling, a new variable gets looked at, checked out, revised, reshaped. Life, work, friends, family, status, house. All the elements that makes one a fully functioning full grown adult in present day life is looked at in a near desperate attempt to understand if I am actually doing okay. It is anxious, of course, but after so many years of foul modus operanti, it is how healthy move forward looks like. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, I admit.

House?
Under revision
Family?
Closer, but under revision
Inner circle?
Under revision
Work?
Under development
Status?
Happily single by choice.
I know the quality of my love, and without the above at least seemingly sorted, I can’t open the doors to anyone. I’m close though, and that’s exciting.

My year has been nothing if a whole renovation project and I am beyond grateful for the possibilities I’ve created for myself to make everything happen, for each choice made towards keeping it going, and for every person I met along the way. It’s been an incredible journey so far, and though I have no idea of what lies ahead, I know one thing is absolutely certain: my ground is firm, my mind is strong, and I am ready.

And as the winds of change blow stronger, I just ask the universe to please please let me keep and sharpen the best parts of me. The spark in my eyes, the kindness in my heart, an open mind. And I beg life to be kind enough to give me time!
I rejoice in finding peace and balance in the silence, and I know how incredible days look like. I am committed to settling down, and for nothing short than this exciting, life giving thing I am lucky to call my life!

Grateful.

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Thirty-two

I have taken some time to rest.

Amidst so many troublesome times, an endless stream of upside-down feelings, and crowded surroundings, I felt the need to stop and take a good look inside. I figured that that mantra we’d been telling our friends for such a long time was right, it was my turn to take a step back to be able to take a few others forward. And boy, how did it pay off.

The episodes of the last (last) year carved a bigger sense of scare inside of us. Despite all the events of the past three decades, this one was different: we’d experienced something entirely new in the sphere of fuckedupness that we’ve known and that required a different outlook at things. Especially to me, away from her and her pain, individually experiencing this multitude of things that I have always vowed to protect her from. Especially to me, who had for a moment believed to never again let her be hurt that much again or have to endure more hardships than the old life had already put her through. Me. Her protector, her keeper.

The last time she fell in love, we held hands and agreed to make it work, but promising that we’d always look at things differently, with more head instead of heart. We had set our boundaries, we’d believed in the promises, and we’d given things time. Yes, by now we all know how much she loves to live in her own timeline and how much that means that her right now translates into forever. Her heart is so committed and so true that her trust has never been entirely shaken from the world. Mine, however, is quite gone, and perhaps this is one of the things that lets us walk together for such a long time. Back at that time, I figured we were good, and I let her heart speak and listen to the words we were told, the offers of all the things we’d always wanted. After wall, what else did we have to work with but their words?

And then, time became still and then rushy again.

So many events, so many physical and emotional constraints, so much literal pain. While I tried to figure out what to do, she grieved a loss she had never thought to have to even have. Our lack of synchrony became a turmoil that led to an avalanche of even more loss and pain. Our lack misalignment took us places I thought to be good for her, but that eventually became just another horror house to live in. Same as the one we’d grown up in and fought so hard to leave. We were in the middle of chaos, and chaos had become the norm. And hell be open, that was not what I wanted for her.
When the last straw hit, I gathered the remaining strength and words of wisdom to be able to tell our friends. One after the other, and sometimes together, they came in our aid: to support, to console, to help me lift a limb from the ground. They all helped carry the weight of the heart, the mind and the life that had just ended. They were the ones who helped us dry the tears we could no longer stop from coming, and that I could no longer dry alone with her. They were a support system I never thought we could have.

Now, if you’ve known her long enough, I bet you’ve seen the sense of resilience and action taking on this gal. She was shaken, hell yes, but her sense of safety and moving forward was larger than anything else. I’d thought it’s take longer, but when she let me talk again, she told me of how much she needed to get out, to have a certain kind of space to figure things out. So, I made us a plan, bought us a plane ticket, and let all the stages of grievance come together. It was time.

Five weeks were all it took for her to find it all out again. I am still amazed by the strength is manages to gather, and by the power she harnesses to get herself going. I’ve seen her going through so much and having witnessed all sides of her heart, it is incredible to see how much goodness and trust will always prevail. The times will always change, and the people will always come and go, but she knows what she wants, and damn, her heart is strong!
During the week of the early morning walks, we made sure to rekindle, to find ourselves and our balance again. Those mornings were essential to acknowledging that the last year has never belonged with us or with who we are, and that it does not deserve our love, attention, or time anymore. She has even told me that this is the last we tell of it, because it simply does not deserve to fill up any bit of our time anymore, and girl, that did blow me away a bit. The last year was a year lived in a sort of a limbo, and though the most important things that have happened were much more about herself than about the other, she holds only one thing dear: she will never get over the fact that life was created and lost inside of her, and that bit will always live within her. In spite of the time. In spite of him. In spite of the pain.

Now, over nine months have passed since we’ve walked away, and six since we’ve come to hold hands again. Our heart is strong, our mind is set straight, and our future is a picture frame waiting to be filled, but without the anxiety or the rush to it. She still knows what she wants and she’s out to get it. Fearless, mindful, as a force of nature.
And as I gather our combined strength and realign our minds, I watch as her heart opens again to feel and let it be. We can’t control the future, but I know I am not letting her go.

Our girl is finally back!

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Thirty-one

I have been absolutely swamped.

 

For the past year and a half, our life has turned upside down and downside up, over and over again. We fell in love, moved houses, started a business – and then another one, fell ill and recovered, quarantined and missed my people. Most of all, we survived.

Strange this life where living has only meaning when you are able to harvest the fullness of independence and the rest is just surviving.
Strange to think that since the outbreak of this wretched pandemic, we’ve all been confined and forced to face ourselves, growing, collapsing and learning how to take new steps. Impressive is how all of that actually happened in real life.

 

When all of this was still anew, we met someone who swept us off our feet and promised to always hold my hand. It’s funny how much I’ve learned, after realising each and all compromises we made to keep holding that hand, that this same hand so easily let go of ours on a constant. It’s rather incredible to look at ourself now, four weeks after the separation, and have the veil lifted off our eyes so both she and I can see the truth: our side of the story was constantly forgotten or simply not accounted for with the seriousness it deserved. At least not in the real world, not for me to see and feel, with actions that show true care – because no, if it’s only inside someone’s head, it’s invaluable to the goddamn world.

And it all begins with respect. For our time, for our knowledge, our experience. For the battles we’ve fought to be where we are in life, and for the simple safety of the space we called home and everything that lived inside it. We were so in love that I dismissed all the effort we both had put into building all of that for her, for me. We forgot so much that we were even led to question our own core belief system. We heard the lines “why such a big deal about something so small?”, and that should’ve been enough. I, being her protector, should have seen it. Just like the countless lateness on appointments, the damages caused to things she cared so much, the intense negativity and rage rooted in a feeling of self-hate so great that it lashed out at the bare minimum, simply because it couldn’t stand to look itself in the mirror that my presence placed right in front its face. And then, of course, the nurtured arrogance that came with lack of knowledge and the fear of being outsmarted.

Ego, ego, fucking ego.

 

How many times are we willing to extend the line of our own boundaries in favour of a dream, a projection, an idea? How many times did we hear “but if you stay now, you will be my champion forever”, and that suddenly became a reason to withstand the most horrific behaviour because we shared a thought, a dream of something beautiful? How much of life are we willing to throw away only and simply because we love and trust someone who consistently betrays us?

 

I knew her safety was long gone. I knew the dream was further and further away and that whatever was happening was rooted in whatever much bigger than either one of us. Yes, I told her to ask all the questions, and I tried to prevent it all to get that deep, but his words, the same promises he never again wanted to revisit because he knew he had fucked up yet once again, those were what got me to let her stay and get deeper and deeper into the mud. His mud. His pool of rage and arrogance and hate and harm. To the self and to others. Everyone had to know how angry he was at life -and at us- because believing in and blaming on lack of control is much easier than getting your shit together and making the decision to take your own life into your hands. Indeed, life seems much easier when you’re not in control.
Until it doesn’t.

 

I saw her patterns coming back, I saw fear consume her days and all the struggle she faced in finding the words to even ask the time. Truth is, we both have loved an abuser. Gosh, in fact, we’ve loved and supported way too many abusers. Narcissistic and alcoholic parents, dangerously overjealous brother, cheating and lying boyfriends and, at last, an inside-out insecure and aggressive fiancee. We loved them all with a whole heart, believed their promises and requests to trust them, and I spoke the truth to them just like our grandpa always taught us. It took us quite a while but we have learned how to love ourself and each other, and to know who we are. To know who I am. It took us a journey of 3 years in therapy and loads of mindfulness practice to fully embrace and accept all sides of us, enough to confidently and openly tell people about it and, in a way, warn them of our own traumas, fully explaining each of our needs with extra love and care. Most of all, with kindness. We never needed all the love and care, but just a bit extra, from time to time. We can take care of each other pretty good, but if you come into our life, I want you to know whom you’re dealing with, no secrets, no fake profiles, no false promises. I have trusted and let her trust each and every one of them with this truth, naked and raw as it came, and one way or another it always ended with me gathering up the strength to see her broken again and to pack up our stuff.
Some say we have a pattern, some say it all speaks much more about them than about us. I’m not sure which one to believe, but I know that, though it is in my nature, I am scared of letting her trust again.

I mean, I know she hates the game. I love it and am definitely good at it as it can be fun at some points, but I know how much she hates it. Dating, getting to know each other, talking about life, making plans, sharing habits and building. She loves to be with someone and I do too, but I’ve seen too much already. She still believes, though, and still hopes. To pair up with another weirdo who gets her, whom we can talk to and share her stupid jokes and my crazy thoughts, Someone to eat on the streets with or go to a fancy restaurant and enjoy both equally (and maybe the streets a little more); who can understand the words we both say for what they are, respond to them with politeness and kindness, and who knows that she will always be there for them. And all I want is for her to have it all back.

 

Love, respect, care, k i n d n e s s.

 

It feels like the world has forgotten how to treat people decently and that being vulnerable is too old-school whilst contractual relationships are the new black. I know her grief will pass and I know the love also will go away, cos it always does in the end, but this is one even I didn’t want to let go of. This is one I believed in, while holding her hand, so wholeheartedly that it makes it harder to see it fade. I know we will find the love she truly deserves, I’m sure, but then again: when did we stop looking at the ones who love us like the most deserving the sweetest of all of our actions and words?

 

And as much as this is one of the chapters in our life I truly wish to forget, the scars it left in and on our body will never allow me to. Her heart is still broken and I still have disbelief and frustration running around my head. But I survived and I keep on writing.

There are many more chapters to be lived.

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Thirty

There was a time when the feelings of others were bigger than hers.

She felt like nothing else in the universe mattered more than making sure that her being, her presence was exactly as what was expected of her. She craved for company, for companionship, and that was something to strive for, no matter the cost.
Whether she would be left aside or be considered as the last choice, being amongst others was enough of a prize for her goals and ambitions. It didn’t matter if she was happy, complete or feeling good; she would feel good in the company of other people and would make sure that whatever her feelings or thoughts were, they would never inflict anything or jeopardise the possibility of having someone by her side.
Yes, I understand. It sounds horrid and codependent, but that is and was the truth.

She’s spent so many years alone, living in her own inner world and solitude, having to kill all monsters by herself. Being alone was all she’d learned. And she got used to it. It is indeed easy to get used to once you so much crave for no longer being the one being in the room. Those ten extra minutes of conversation, the warmth of someone else’s presence, the possibility to please someone else. She’d do it all to have it. Nothing else mattered. She’d suggest, host, cook, find possibilities, do whatever it took. She’d strive to gather as many as possible and as often as possible. All she wanted was to have a person, the person, who’d listen and talk. Or just talk. Didn’t quite matter.

The years passed and she realised that her constant moving was often leading to fewer and fewer listeners and bystanders. Fewer and fewer people stayed or wanted to remain close to her. Was it her fault? Was it anything within her own personality which was driving other people away? She couldn’t tell, but her past and own mixed up feelings would often say yes. It was her doing. She diminished herself so many times and in so many different occasions thinking that people simply did not accept her for who she were. It was hard to believe, standing on my own shoes, but I could do nothing but to stand down. Many times she thought I was the cause of it. My forwardness, my own way to be and to see the world. My limitless energy and attitude towards others, unregarded of time or schedule, simply being. So I stood down, I bowed and let her be. I knew she only had us to live and how much her heart had to share with others, so I did as I was told.

At one occasion, after a discussion with someone who had called himself a partner, she heard the words coming from another mouth: “That’s why everyone leaves”. A piercing to her heart without notice or explanation. She didn’t even know how to react. She’d watched everyone else leaving within circumstances and situations beyond her control. No one had ever set her as important, pivot or even centered her to attention. No one had ever truly only looked at her, her feelings and desires with genuine interest. She’d always been the one pursuing, the one going after, the one adapting and changing. And within all those changes, she evolved.

After a long time, she learned how to be herself. She understood that it wouldn’t matter to the world how much she’d change or adapt or give up to be with others. She saw that people would do whatever they pleased and that it was all about them. Not and never about her. Her feelings and desires were constantly neglected and she understood that there was no need for anyone else to acknowledge them but herself. She grasped, at last, that her herself was enough and that whoever would ever wish to sit by her side, ask and hear about her stories would be there out of their own will. Whatever days she’d spend with others, would be spent on their own expense and her enjoyment wouldn’t be greater than what she’d get out of it. It took her time to understand all of that and a whole lot of self-love to fit together the pieces of the puzzle.

And it was about that time that she truly realised how great empathy is and how fucked up is a world where true feelings are so easily neglected, as well as how easily people can live their days and nights without it.

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Twenty-nine

What if you only get one chance to live something magic?

What if those moments when your eyes meet the ones of another and that instant when all the universe stops only happens once? Would you be daring enough to live it or would you believe there is no such a thing? Would you grab and hold on to it or would you wait and see what comes next?

We lived in magic once. Our hands and arms still burn from the memories of it and our heart still melts upon remembering that exact moment. They were dark blue and they starred right at us in an infinite second that repeated at every gaze. Gosh, how special that was!

Sometimes, at sleepless nights, we close our eyes to relive it. The red and blue hat, the perfectly aligned eyebrows, the look that imprinted our soul. For years, having those eyes on us was worth a lifetime. It was a soulful connection, something nobody can or could ever explain. Feeling the shivering skin, watching the smile that accompanied it… all in one simple and profound framed encounter.

We hear stories of people around us who let go of people they deeply love because their physical connection no longer works its best. We hear these people find love again, connect again and, eventually, are happy again. We hear and see new people coming around and new couples becoming. What we never hear is whether the depth of the connection is the same, or whether they feel the same way they once felt. Whether everything is as perfectly aligned as it once was and if the same feeling is there. I guess it’s what stays inside oneself to not be shared, or a simple settlement one makes with life and fate.

Recently, we discovered about the power of the universe. We found out about the so called “law of attraction” and the incredible things it brings us. In our case, part of the journey brought us those blue eyes. They were ours and ours were theirs. An ethereal bond, something from past lives. We were like magic! Just like everything else in the universe, as much as they were meant to be ours, we were also meant to lose it. It’s been a while, but the pain is still sharp at times. We believe in the universe and we know there’s so much more to come. But will it be better?

The cosmic law is perfect and intelligent. It’s up to us to trust it, leaving life lighthearted and carefree, knowing all is well. The vast ocean of possibilities has all of our wishes and it knows all of our pains and feelings. It also knows of the greater good meant to find us in our path throughout this Earth. We believe, we trust, we surrender.

And as days and weeks go by and the pain of physical separation hits us on a daily basis, as well as the questions of whether this is really it, we gather our strength and focus on belief. We remember the ease to let go while free falling from airplanes and we rejoice at the idea and knowledge that our actions are aligned with cosmic law.

We know and believe that the ultimate reality comes from within us. And from within, lives the truth.
Pain shall pass, but love shall always, always remain.

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Twenty-eight

Our eyes are wide open and we simply can’t catch a proper sleep.

It’s been a little over a week since the ceiling above our head changed and the noises on the street began to differ from the ones we knew. It’s been about ten days since we drove off from a place of history and grounds, detaching from what we so recently thought would always be roots. The nights became twice as long and the heart began to ache in a different way. Truth had come to reality.

We’ve always dreamed of living in a big city. The feeling of belonging that lies within the ethnic difference surrounding us had always showed itself with a certain glamour. We’ve craved for this sight and noises that are now outside our windows. Though we, at some point, believed we didn’t t want it anymore, we secretly longed for this moment of change. We only didn’t think it would come with such a price and spike.

Today, it’s been a week since we hugged goodbye. It felt like forever, and it feels like it is. The thought of leaving such time at a different book and following the road back to ourself was bittersweet. The true flavours now are beyond description. There is so much still feeling as left unsaid and the idea of so much that could’ve been done. But we know it isn’t the case. We know this was the right move.

We never liked to say goodbye. There’re been so many already that I guess we all got somewhat sadly confused when the last one came. We get it, for sure, but it’s hard to move on from what is imprinted inside us. We know the right path and it is lit up bright, but little one still looks at me with those melancholic eyes, wondering out and about.

She tells me of hurt and missing, I tell her of future and possibilities.

She speaks of dreams and true matches, I tell her about consciousness and evolution.

She tells me about love and the unexplainable, I then lose the argument, because I feel it too.

And so, here we lie awake and sleepless. We gather our thoughts and wander, hand in hand, through the field of all possibilities. We hurt, we cry, we laugh. We miss the smiles and the embrace. At closed eyes, we can smell it as vividly as the night lights outside. Memories made with love and tenderness; stories of love, family and belonging.

Now left at a closed book, those connections once so apparent ascended to a different field. Nothing can go as deep as it did, but the real world doesn’t need to know. It will always be there.

And even if voices don’t vibrate on the other side anymore, and if the sights are avoided, excluded and left to hide, we hereby grab our new life guide. There’s grieve, but there is also a bright future ahead.

Trusting, believing.

That loving life is all that matters.

Always remembering.

To live love that way, and praying silently, so it won’t ever again shatter.

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Twenty-seven

Do you believe in soulmates?
Well, we never fully did.

In fact I wouldn’t say “never”, as we grew up trusting there was a better kind of love than the ones who raised us shared. In the beginning, we thought they were soulmates and that they truly loved each other. She cared for him, he provided for her. That was the kind of love we knew. However, as many of the other things we got to learn with the years, we realised that was no love at all. That was addiction.

During the years our genitors have been together, we’ve witnessed the worst of things a relationship can have. We learned from them. Not in the right way, of course, we got to expect that we’d achieve such endurance of many years together, at any cost. We fondly believed that love came with a cost and with hard work, and although we still believe in it, there are some things love can’t simply survive. “But they did!”, we would tell ourselves. This shaped the way we went through every single relationship in our life. We were willing to pay a high price to stay together, to hear whatever we wished, and to always keep on trying. Beautiful, we thought. It will work out, eventually. Naive, us!

We have been hard work. We have insisted through the right and the wrong. “They stayed together after he cheated on her because she forgave him and they love each other. Everyone is allowed a mistake!”. Was that so?

Once we reached the age of sixteen, we learned that there was no such a thing as pure love, but genuine hate and codependence. They stayed together because they didn’t want anything else, or believed they could do any better with their lives. They remain, to the day, waiting patiently to see the decease of one another. Harsh? No, dear. Plain truth. The love and care we see in the movies and many videos of unknown couples on our social media feed do exist, but they’re as rare as tigers in the wild.

At some point, we came to believe that we had found our soulmate. Certainly, we let ourselves out and dove down full throttle. We were hard work when it all began, don’t mistake me. We didn’t know half of what we do today, but we loved deeply and we were sure that was forever. Eventually, we came to what I mentioned in the last chapter: we have all been together, all along. And yes, we had been soulmates before. It explained the depth of our love and the intense connection that sparkled at every look we shared. They are all still here, but we learned the hard way that what made our souls mate was something else.

Today, as we drive down the road of a whole new path, we understand that soulmates truly exist. One meant to be with another. We also understand that soulmates come in the right fit and that whatever is supposed to be ours will always be there. Yes, being together takes time, effort and, most of all, truly acceptance of one another, but your true mate will be there until the end, meeting you beyond time.

And as for our soulmate, dear, we’re sure: it will never walk away. We know our inner-value and we see people through the eyes of goodness and kindness. We know he will recognise us and see us as we see ourselves as much as himself as we see him. Perhaps you think we’re fantasising over things that don’t exist, but we know about that place filled of love that awaits us all and that’s where we all belong.

Then, just as it is supposed to be, our soulmate will choose to stay. Not only because we want him to or because we wish to fulfil our purposes together.

But because we’re sure that nothing will ever be enough to choose for letting go.

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Twenty-six

What happens when you learn about your true purpose in life?

Just like many, we have always been skeptical over the possibility of being given another chance, a different life to make things different. Another possibility to love, to correct the mistakes we’ve made, to take back hurtful things we said at anger. New times to love, to share, to be happier and to pursue the true things that make us thrive. A chance to let go of everything that holds us back at the very first moment they appear.

Ever since I came into her life, with all my heart to protect and guard her, I promised her to safety and happiness, no matter what. I tried to guider her towards what I believed to be a road of less heartbreak and more love, as well as to a place of success. We’ve achieved greatness in many ways and reached peaks of high and low together, because we are one. I’ve always wanted her to listen to my voice and to find for herself that I meant right and good. But as you know, she’s got her ways to get to me and to persuade me that her road is the one with more colour and joy. And so we decide to go her ways and to follow her path. The worries, my friend, are when it all comes down to sadness and my protective mode kicks in.

I first thought that she and I have been together for over two decades. Recently, we’ve made a discovery that none of us had ever thought of: we have always been one. The realms of men have thought us that I was born in her from hardship, but the cosmos has showed us who I really am and what is my purpose in her life. I am the gatherer of her true pieces.

The revelation is clear: we are builders. For countless times and lives, we have gathered and made big things happen. Our strive to improve and to grow has always been there, in all sides, and though we’ve indeed built great things in this life, we’ve come to know that there is a lot more work to be done. We just need to listen to the right voice.

It has been a rollercoaster of events and experiences that got us here. It’s been a ride of a lifetime, living in this one what we’ve indeed truly lived in many more. It took us almost thirty years to find that out and a bunch of doubtful moments to struggle with, but now we know what we truly stand for. We are here on a mission and I now know the part I play is to keep us on track. I won’t let her down.

The energy flow that glows within our veins is of bright colour and full of purpose. With all those drains left behind, we are set to make the best of this life and to make it right.
It’s time to let what matters most speak louder and to shine. Let the fire of light lit us everyday, moving forward and building, like nothing else was ever bigger than we truly are.

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Twenty-five

There’s been someone who is settled deep inside our heart.

The story goes quite conventional: we met at a travellers’ meeting in a bar. I locked eyes on him at the very first second. While everyone introduced themselves, I waited anxiously for his turn so I would hear his voice, his name and his purpose. Soon after, he was right next to me. I gazed into the blue of his eyes and got lost within his words. He spoke softly and listened patiently as I told him about myself. There was something strange about that person, something almost supernatural. In front of me, it was love that had come at first sight.

As most young women do, I waited for his next move. A message, a contact, something. Nothing came, so I decided to take the lead. I couldn’t stand the idea of never seeing or hearing from him again. Four weeks had passed before I sent that message and it took less than a day to get something back. I knew there and then he’d been as nervous as I was to find each other. He was hooked too.

Our first date was almost magical. I can still recall the thrill and the anxiety of seeing him again. Upon his arrival, he texted and I looked through my window to see him there, dressed in what I would later discover to be his “fancy occasion” only white blouse. I walked downstairs and said hello. He opened the car door for me, I entered and he asked if I was okay. Oh boy, how okay I was! I could barely believe I was going on a date with him. Doors closed, we hit the road.

A tapas restaurant was the place. Slow food, wine and plenty of talk. The first of the many times we shared a meal from the same plate. We looked at each other, we shared our stories, we fell in love. Three hours had passed before we decided that it was time to go, but all I wanted was to spend an extra one next to him. We shivered near each other, as if there was a magnetic current powered by every hand touch. He marvelled me in every way and I didn’t want to let go.

In the course of the next weeks, he would do anything to be with me. No kiss had been shared, no actual hug. There was no physical engagement which could categorise us as one or as even a couple, but we knew what we were to one another. It was a busy period in my life, but even in my hard core hours and very little break, fifteen minutes were enough. Enough to talk, to share, to simply be in the same square meter. Two months had passed before he dropped me off at home with a kiss. His soft lips pressing against mine, his hands holding my face. I felt my legs trembling upon his words “I wish to see more of you!”. And yes, I wanted to see more of him. But that was that and nothing more of him I saw.

A year later, I decided to try again. His lurking presence had been always there and I knew he hadn’t forgotten. I knew he was also making sure he was around.

We agreed to meet again. This time, was under a sky of shooting stars. Sitting on garden chairs in the late dark of a summer night, we sipped our tea and watched the sky for the good luck of comets to come upon us. Hours had passed as we gazed and talked about whatever. The subject, never mattered. The sound of our voices were enough to keep us going, unlimited. It was the night where the sky played its part and laid its magical blessing upon us.

A month later and with our hearts filled with fear, our love was consumed. This time, the sky was filled with simple drawings. The warmth of his arms around me, the safety I found there. We let ourselves go in each other and we found something we both had been looking for a long time. I was twenty-five but it felt as I was brand new. Home was there and nothing in the universe mattered.

It’s been almost six years since that afternoon at the bar. It’s been almost five since his side became my home and his arms, my shelter. It feels like an entire lifetime has happened in between and that there is still so much to share, so many days to simply be. If only our demons hadn’t caught up with us and our fears hadn’t suppressed what we had best to give. If only we could forget the heartbreak from the past and live the now, holding each others hands towards the future. If only life had taught him to trust that he could hold on to me and his fears hadn’t pushed me away so much, so often. If only we shared the same sense and levels of home we’d known it all in advance. If only… if only.

Now, we no longer share our days or our bedtime talks. We both share a bittersweet past and the dreadful truth of the present. Our demons collide while near and our fears increase while away. A madhouse of unbalance. The actions once known blew back at our faces as if they were new, as if none of us understood them. Frightened, we let go. Our connection is present, right here and there, and we know of the love we still share. I pray to the universe to help him overcome darkness and to be whole. I beg to see again that guy I fell in love with, the one who gazed at me with tenderness once smiled at each other. And I hope to find the same joy in my heart as I found in his smile.

And though my soul tells me this is right, my heart yearns for the warmth of his comfort. I know, and gosh I do, that i am nothing but grateful for everything the universe has given us to live, for the bond that will forever make us whole. For the chance to stare at skies and the water in the horizon, and to carry out our dreams with our floating feet.

This feeling of home that will forever be ours and this love that I will forever warm keep.

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Twenty-four

There having been days in which the struggles are greater than the peace.

A little while ago, I decided to summon my demons to look at them face to face. I searched, called and brought each one of them to the surface, determined to banish them from hell. I knew many of their names, but I underestimated their power, their connections. Their claws contain red bows entangled with ropes that lead to every soul they torment. All bad decisions ever made were controlled by their fingers, but no one was ever held accountable. They’ve always been overlooked and simply misplaced in the midst of the whole thing. Well, it was about time that changed.

There was an excuse, a reason to not point fingers. Blood, connections and the most absurd of all: love. I guess just like people self-destruct in the name of a god, people easily use love as shield for their bad, misled actions.

Once a week, in a timeframe which seems to last forever, we meet. After days filled with anxiety and anger, emotional rollercoasters and screaming pain. It drives us to a state of plain; a fear of the unknown. There is no control of the frames, nor of the words that will come out. The road taken is paved with fear, leading to nowhere but absolution.

Once a week we talk. We discuss, argue, shout and scream. We recall all that happened and we disagree on the terms of what will it be. Can there be forgiveness to the damned?

Wishing to be still alive, the demons slowly get by. Wandering through the ashy roads of hell, all doors find its owner, every demon gets its place. We see the streets emptying and the paths getting clearer, only to realise the many yet to come.

Our meetings with our demons are familiar yet strange. They take place among the memories blurred and burnt, product of the flames once burning of excitement. Their heat consumed our heart through the years we thought to be joy, but left nothing but destruction on the path along the way.

Little by little, the water begins to run. And with the first river empty and the ashes cleaned up, it’s time to descent and meet what awaits us in the second of our seven hells.

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