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Actually I was supposed to name it February 20, 2009,but because of my daily activities, which kept me busy-busy-busy all day long ( sometimes even my night ),it's only today that I had some glimpses of time for spilling my thoughts on the key-board.
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There I was, next to you,on the right front seat of your car,unable to dare breathe, too afraid my tears would stain the covers,and too useless opening my mouth to let my thoughts out of my mind's cage...
I couldn't articulate the fact that I was utterly squashed by our imminent departure - each of us towards our separate ways .
I couldn't verbalize my bitterness and aching because of your 1 week of absence.
I was already missing you, eventhough you were still there.
I was praying inside for the power to say a proper Good-bye to you.
To give you at least one miserable hug,and one lousy kiss on the cheek. I was begging God to give me the courage to touch you.
But God didn't listen to my prayers.He filled me with Fear and Anguish which both sewed my lips and bound my hands.
However,I think He Did hear you...
You held me close to your psyche for five seconds.
Hugged me dearly and reassured me about the wonderful vacation we're both going to have.I went home,and I didn't even have time to weep, because Data arrived earlier...By the time I got down with my luggage,my tears were still having a blast on my face, although I spend quite a lot on long lasting foundation.I had to hide my face inside the folds of my scarf, so that Data wouldn't notice it.I wasn't in the mood for interrogation about "who? what? where?". So I slipped in the back-seat of the car, plugged in my i-pod, made sure everything seemed OK, and pretended to sleep...
Only to close my eyelids and find the darkness in front of me filled with colours and dreams,splashes of light scintillating inside my inner grey matter.
All I could think about was you.
It was you who I found in all those corny lyrics from my songs. It was you who made ma laugh so loud that even my last neighbors would have been startled in the middle of the night.
It is you who I would like to scratch. And bite. And tickle. And make ambrosial coffee to. And let all my clothes torn and ripped by.
I arrived. My friends caught up with my ingress, even before I could sit down and grab a cigarette and chocolate milk to restore my system from the long drive. They lavished me with presents, and took me out for a proper celebration. But the gift they gave me...
One Hundred Years of Solitude.
Late,at night, my phone rang.
Oh! Who could it be in the middle of the night,calling little old me ?!
My Beloved Monster, Of Course!
And then it struck me. Your words, announcing the measliest daily facts you've done from the minute we've said our good-byes...
One Hundred Years of Solitude.
The book you had been reading during your drive.
I picked it up, started browsing, immediately loved it, just because your honey-brown eyes had strolled before among the same maze of words.To be grasping the same letters that perhaps made you smile, or frown, or tremble, or twitter, or incapsulate yourself with recant desire...
One way or another,the way I see it, I HAD to read that book.
I have not finished it, but neither have you.
I have delighted myself in it, and so have you.
I have interlaced myself in this web of dreams and fantasies, too afraid to let go and get down, too enslaved by these myocardial flutterings aroused by your presence.
Good Night, wherever you are,whatever you're doing, beware!
Because tonight Filéshiô is adulterating your dreams!