Take my hand

‘’Take my hand. I’ll hold you.’’ He said with the most loving smile I’ve ever seen painted over his perfect features. I returned a shy smile as I slowly stretched my shivering hand up to him but in the next second, the ground underneath my feet collapsed suddenly and I was continuously falling into pitch darkness. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound was coming out. Until I opened my eyes. I was covered by a thick blanket in the middle of July, beads of sweat dripping down my temples, down to my neck. It was just a nightmare except…it wasn’t. As I fearfully turned my barely opened eyes to the other side of the bed I noticed the unbothered covers and pillow. It sickened me, it made my guts flip inside my body. It was all too true and I was still hoping to wake up soon although the back of my mind screamed at me that I was already awake. Two months passed and I still haven’t grasped the reality of it all. My entire being refused to accept this truth that caged me everywhere I went. People started to move on from it but I couldn’t. I was the only one who was still stuck in the day before it all went down. They avoided talking to me about it. Never mentioned anything, not like I would listen to any words their mouths pushed out. I was stuck in my own made up reality.

I took a deep breath and tried not to stumble on my feet. His glasses and watch were seated on the nightstand and every particle inside me prayed that any second now, I’ll start hearing the sound of the shower and his soft voice humming along to a tune that would most likely be stuck in his mind for the past few days. I held a breath and stood frozen for a minute but no sound of water running and no song. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the little pieces of my heart breaking even more. It was kind of funny actually, I haven’t cried one tear yet. I guess the shock hasn’t worn off yet. Part of me is afraid that it never will. I slowly made my way to the kitchen and packed up a light lunch in hopes that any minute he will come running through the door, laughing that he forgot his lunch again. After an hour, I threw it in the trash can, the same trash can I threw a lunch bag every day for the past two months now. I went into the living room and turned on the TV to the morning news, hoping that any second now he’ll exit the bathroom and sit on the couch to check out the weather forecast. Ten minutes after the pretty lady finished the weather announcements, I turned the TV off. I got dressed and went down to the corner store and bought men toiletries, hoping that tonight he’ll be happy that I replaced the almost empty bottle of aftershave. The lady at the counter gave me a pitiful look and a semi sympathetic smile. I never looked into her eyes. I was afraid that if I look inside someone’s eyes I will finally realize that it really happened.

I didn’t do much after, except waited. I stood on the couch, clutching the phone in my hand until my knuckles turned pale, hoping to hear his ringtone. It was midnight and no call came, only messages from worried people but I ignore those all the time, I have hundreds of unread messages. I guess the only reason they haven’t checked on me now it’s because they can still see the green little dot next to my photo on Facebook that indicates that I’m online. It’s a good enough sign that I’m still breathing. I’m online only because I write him messages, asking him when he’ll be home and what he wants for dinner but I never get a reply, he doesn’t even read my messages.

At half past three a.m. I crawled into bed and glanced to the side hoping to see the outline of his back moving slowly along with his steady breathing but I only saw a neatly placed pillow, no figure and no sound of a steady breath, again, only that piercing sound of my heart constantly shattering. I turned around and glanced at the ceiling. I don’t know if I stared for a minute or two hours because I had no concept of time anymore, I only know that, at one point, I felt something wet down my cheek. I thought it was sweat, caused by the thick blanket that was covering my body but it was a tear, and another, and another… I lost number of them after that and a voice inside my head was whispering. ‘’He’s gone. It’s over.’’ And at that point the unbearable pain of reality crushed my ribs as I clutched at the sheets tightly and poured all my pain out into the open through the burning tears that were too many to count.

I guess that’s what happens when you lose someone so sudden, no closure and no possibility of at least a tender goodbye. You lose your mind for a moment, you refuse the truth and become blind to every piece of proof that shows that they are gone. But in one brief moment of realization you’re overwhelmed with the realness of the situation and all the pain crashes your bones, heart and soul.

He’s really gone.

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After finding love

Everybody loves writing about searching for love, about the inevitable journey that we all go through, searching through years and faded memories for the one who will stop time and cover us in love and tranquility. But no one writes about what happens after you find love. What changes? Will you still be the rebel that breaks rules in the name of love? Will the fire inside you diminish? We all believe that love will make us experts in feelings, that it will make us wise. But after finding love…I believe that you will become clumsy and at times even more reckless than before. You will stumble over feelings and uncertainty and knock your head against walls of mistakes. But for every petal that will fall down from your flower, another will grow back. Love is hard and at times painful but it’s also beautiful and capable of filling every crack in your soul with gold. It will make you scream and drown in oceans of tears but it will be the only thing holding your feet to the ground while your head is in the clouds. After finding love you slow down and enjoy the road.

Fractura de emotii

”Zambeam. Zambeam larg, nu mai zambisem asa de o buna perioada, desi daca stau acum sa ma gandesc, cred ca a fost ultima data cand am zambit. Acum doar ma prefac, am devenit artista, am invatat sa falsez zambete mai usor decat orice.

Era o seara racoroasa, vantul adia usor, dar rece. Voiam ca totul sa fie perfect, planuiam momentul asta de 3 luni. Desi eram groaznic de obosita, n-aveam de gand sa las oboseala sa-mi strice seara. Tineam in mana o cutie in care se afla un tort plin cu frisca, preferatul lui. In ghiozdanul meu se afla o cutie mica, neagra. In ea statea asezat un ceas argintiu barbatesc, unul pe care mi s-a dus jumatate din salariu, insa nu conta. Stiam sigur ca o sa-i placa. Printre toate astea mai erau agatate de corpul meu si o servieta cu acte de la munca si o plasa in care se afla o sticla de vin, aleasa cu grija de pe raftul de sus, cel cu vinuri bune, din supermarket. Mergeam usor, incercand sa nu ma impiedic, greutatea lucrurilor pe care le caram, ingreunandu-mi existenta un pic. In timp ce mergeam ma gandeam la o mie de lucruri o data. Ma gandeam la cat de fericita eram acum, ma gandeam la cat de mizerabil ma simteam cu ceva ani in urma, ma gandeam la cum a aparut el ca un inger printre nori negri si m-a ridicat din balta noroioasa in care ma aflam. Inconstient, un zambet mi-a aparut din nou pe fata. Ma fascineaza modul in care un strain poate deveni atat de repede si de neasteptat centrul Universului cuiva, cum dintr-o data totul se schimba si iubirea te loveste ca un tren.

Cand am ajuns in fata blocului, m-am uitat instinctiv catre geam : luminile erau stinse in casa. M-am gandit ca poate dormea, obosit dupa munca. Am zambit si m-am indreptat catre usa apartamentului. Simteam fluturi in stomac, imaginandu-mi reactia lui cand va vedea tot ce am pregatit pentru ziua lui. Am deschis usa usor, dorind sa fiu cat mai silentioasa. Mi-am asezat incaltarile la usa si am lasat toate lucrurile in bucatarie. Nu eram pregatita pentru ceea ce a urmat.

Cand m-am apropiat de usa dormitorului, am auzit niste sunete infundate, un sentiment de greutate mi-a invaluit sufletul, negam gandurile care imi treceau prin minte atunci. Insa dupa ce am deschis usa usor, realitatea m-a lovit peste fata. Doua siluete se imbinau pasional deasupra cearsafurilor mele crem, se miscau cu o muzicalitate murdara. Fiecare sunet si miscare aruncand cutite de durere fix in inima mea. Atunci am ramas uimita de altceva. Am ramas uimita de cat de repede se transforma iubirea in durere, de cat de repede cel pe care l-ai iubit devine cel care te-a ranit cel mai tare. Am inchis usa incet, observand ca cei doi nu si-au dat seama ca au asistat la moartea mea emotionala. Cu o fata lipsita de emotii, am iesit pe usa si am plecat, lasand in urma fiecare bucatica din inima mea.

M-am trezit din nou mergand cu o mie de ganduri in minte. Insa de data asta gandurile erau exact opusul a celor pe care le avusesem cu jumatate de ora in urma. Ma gandeam la cum iti ia o eternitate sa iti pui increderea in cineva si la cum iti ia o secunda sa perzi acea incredere. Ma mai gandem ca poate e vina mea. De ce ma invinovateam eu pentru o greseala facuta de el ? Poate era din cauza socului. Poate din cauza socului inca nu varsasem nici macar o lacrima. Poate undeva, in adancul sufletului, ma asteptam la asta. Incercam sa gasesc un raspuns la o intrebare care nici macar nu exista.

Au trecut doua saptamani. Doua saptamani de cand am iesit pe usa, doua saptamani de apeluri nepreluate si de mesaje necitite. Inca nu am plans, insa cred ca asta se intampla din cauza faptului ca nu am vrut sa infrunt situatia. Nu l-am vazut de atunci, ultima imagine cu el fiind cea in care isi plimba disperat mainile pe coapsele unei femei fara nume. Nu voiam sa-l vad pentru ca stiam ca in momentul in care-l voi vedea, voi realiza ca totul s-a risipit in aer si ca nimic nu va mai fi la fel.

Am stat si am repetat in minte fiecare detaliu al vietii noastre impreuna, am cantarit fiecare posibilitate si am privit totul printr-un ochi obiectiv. Din orice punct m-as fi uitat, povestea se incheiase. Acum intelegeam ca romanele de dragoste pline de clichee pe care le citeam nu erau decat povesti, realitatea era altfel. Realitatea era o femeie marsava, ce imi afisa un zambet viclean insa era mai sincera decat orice iluzie de fericire pe care mi-o facusem. Am constat ca nu era vina nimanui. Nu avea rost sa arunc cu noroi si cuvinte imorale in el. Poate ca sufletul meu suferea in tacere acum, insa totul va fi bine mai tarziu. M-am ridicat si am plecat sa infrunt situatia, inarmata cu rabdare si cu un gol in locul in care ar fi trebuit sa-mi fie inima

 

Astazi sunt bine.”

Without sadness

Why are we so mad at sadness? Why are we afraid of being sad? Why do we feel like our own tears burn our skin? I still haven’t found the answer, but…I’m no longer afraid of sadness. To me, sadness is the purest and most honest emotion. Why? Because nobody lies when they say that they are sad. We can fake happiness so easily, we can pretend that everything is fine, we can paint smiles over our cries. But when we finally admit that we are sad…we are honest. People don’t wanna be seen as sad, unhappy, miserable. But why? Why do we run away from the purest and most honest emotion? Happiness without sadness wouldn’t be possible anyways…

Iubire si serenitate

Deci, eu sunt intr-o relatie de doi ani si ceva. Vad atatia oameni care considera ca intr-o relatie trebuie sa ai fluturasi in stomac mereu, ca inima trebuie sa-ti bata tare cand vezi persoana iubita, ca trebuie sa dormiti cu picioarele incolacite si ca mutatul impreuna o sa te faca sa te simti in al noualea cer.

Dar nu e asa, cel putin nu pentru mine.

Fluturasii se opresc dupa un timp, inima ta nu o mai ia razna cand ii vezi, in schimb, totul devine calm si protector. Cand va luati in brate simti cum inima ta bate incet, si sunetul respiratiei lor te poarta catre confort. Nu se mai simte ca o abundenta de emotii, se simte ca…acasa.

Nu mai dormiti imbratisati in fiecare noapte, cu picioarele incolacite atat de tare incat nu mai stii care sunt ale tale si care sunt ale lui.

In schimb, dormiti confortabil, unul langa celalalt, cateodata spate in spate. Dar in fiecare noapte, te trezesti cocolosindu-te langa el. Il iei de mana sau ii mangai parul pana adoarme, iar el te tine in brate cateva minute.

Saruturile nu mai sunt tot timpul romantice si pline de pasiune. Dar devin atat de diverse. Saruturi reci atunci cand mancati inghetata, sarututi lipicioase din cauza siropului pentru clatite, saruturile de ”plec acum, ne vedem mai tarziu”, saruturile de ”noapte buna” si tot asa.

Iubire nu e intotdeauna ca o flacara imensa ce te invaluie si te face rebel si pasional, iubirea e serenitate.

Partea 1

Ai pleca azi daca ai putea, nu-i asa? Pamantul e o harta de comori unde fiecare loc este marcat cu X. Padurea iti arata toate culorile tale preferate, muntii canta melodia ta preferata, daca stai nemiscat poti jura ca auzi Pamantul cum iti sopteste numele. Poate ca pare egoist, dar pentru mine tu esti un cufar de comori. Sper ca vei ramane, pentru ca te-as urma oriunde daca as putea tine pasul.

Paradis etern

M-ai luat de mana, ti-a lipit buzele de gatul meu, ti-ai asezat inima ta peste a mea si ti-ai trasat initialele tale cu degetul pe spatele meu. Mi te-ai daruit in doze mici si cu pasi marunti. M-am indragostit de tine la fiecare pas. Ai devenit scaparea mea dintr-o lume imbibata cu ura si egoism, mi-ai oferit un loc in pieptul tau si m-am scufundat prea adanc in inima ta. Pentru mine tu esti paradis etern.