Let's burn the feelings and see what's left.Let's set them free to touch the sky,and hope they come back, from time to time...Let's write our mistakes on pieces of ice and catapult them between the stars, so they return to us as a healing dust.
Do you know the worst type of pain? And, please, don't give me that one with labour, pyelonephritis, or toothache. The most ruthless kind of pain is standing next to someone you're terribly, madly, charmingly in love with, knowing that you'll never have them.
Do you know what was, is and will be the BEST Christmas present I ever had?
Of course not. And perhaps you'll never find out.
An empty, forgotten cigarette package on my coffee table, which you left behind, before going back home for Christmas.
That, all together with a few scraps of paper filled with your notes from laboratory practice, a lighter that I managed to swindle → because it was yours, and 2 dryed roses, stashed between the holy pages of the Bible found in my library. These are my most precious possessions. Who'd have thought that the beautiful, smart girl who could have any guy she wants, had set her eyes on you, her soul right at your feet and her heart on a javelin made of your indecision.
Every time you forgot a box of smokes, I'd keep it among my most treasured nothings, guarding it, like, somehow, my whole anatomical function depended on that particular box. Someday I'll build a castle of cardboard for the paperbag princess that I've become...
Looking back, after 1 year of miserably crying alone in my aching dreams, desperately filled with you; after 365 days of bitterness intoxicating my blood and after 8760 hours of woe inside my ribcage, I'm secretly smiling inside.
Each time I overheard conversations from which I ascertained where and with whom you had spent your so-precious-to-me breaths, I suffered of some sort of spontaneous instant combustion. The next day, I would step out of the ashes of my chrysalis cocoon as a new -born butterfly.
Now I find it somewhat amusing. But it's not.It's tragic for both of us.
You, always on-the-go, permanently busy, concerned only to put everything in your life on a scale, constantly vacillating. But you're missing something from being reevaluated, recalculated by your shilly-shallying. That little detail is love.
I hope someday, when human nature will have it's will, you'll realize what you had, but never knew how to handle it. Looking through my crystal ball of clear judgement I see you in the future, wanting to touch something that already vanished before your very eyes. And all you had to do was reach your handto help me rise from my puddle of moaning. I would have adored you like the only apple of my eye. I still do, but in my own secret, special way. You are the one who showed me that the most simple touch of hands carries such immense infusion of feelings, that literarily blacks me out. That love is secretly sealed in a smile, which melts all sadness away. That life is so beautiful, is out there, but you just have to take off those broken lenses you've been wearing since God knows when...That real love means having to answer 'No' at the question 'Would you be afraid of dying tomorrow?'. Mine still is: 'No, I'm not afraid'.
Because I met you and I love you more than the daylight brought to me by every day.
Love is gentle, kind and it's both cure as well as plague of life. For people are so numb in believing that happiness unbosoms in shallow, superficial and material things like: a fancy house, a 'perfect' family, no debts, a cool car and other things like that.
People lack simplicity and tend to complicate things, when it's all so clear! They don't know that - indeed - love is the most powerful weapon us humans have. It's like having Gates' fortune stashed somewhere in your back yard without knowing where, and therefore unable to use it properly.
A hug. Just a hug from that someone relieves your hunger, quences your thirst, cleanses your air, and suddenly you won't desire for anything else. You won't care what you're going to do after all the money is gone, with what you're going to cover yourselves after the rags you've been wearing will fade away. You won't give a damn when will it rain or what to use to cover your heads from fierce weather. Do you understand? You won't need anything anymore, because you're already perfect. It's that strong and that powerful, it spills allover outside of you. So exceptional, you get the urge to make every living, breathing creature on this planet happy. You feel the need to help ones in need, to make the sad ones smile, to evanesce all the pain in this world. You spread love all around and cherish all that God created.
How's that for a gift? It sounds so magical and yet so unbelievably real. Do you think that all those tons of literature about love is mumbo-jumbo? Maybe it was all written by a bunch of lying, crazy folks, trying to make fun of us ?
The mumbo-jumbo is all true . You just have to open your eyes to really see, fix your ears to really hear, and most important, forget about locking the door to your heart. It's not even worth having a door to your heart. Take it down and in the meantime throw away your key! You won't need it.
I was lucky enough to meet the right person who made it all happen, and that person is you.
There! I said it !
And you know what ?! I pity you for never finding out all the beauty of it, and all because of your sadistic nonchalance. I'm sorry for you and your bad timing . Maybe I'll buy you for Easter The Idiot. Maybe that could shed some light through your opaque curtains which prevail life from beeing seen.
I know this because I have it. I have the greatest gift and all the answers I need.