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We are two people having a casual conversation. Like a group of friends having a light walk in the woods. But then you get closer to watch that photo story carved in the palm of my hand and, as you lean over, I feel the comfort of my forehead pressed against yours. And I stay there, in this stolen moment, slightly breathing, barely moving, acting like nothing happened, like my whole world wouldn’t revolve around such carelessly shared gestures.

I sit there indulging on this moment, deeply inhaling every second that passes by. I know that you will straighten your posture and take a sip of that dark amber tea any time soon. It feels as tense as listening to the silence of the woods knowing that your noisy friends are about to burst into a loud laughter. Have I told you how that happened to me? I’m pretty sure I told you everything at least twice. And I’ll tell you everything at least twice more, when we both will have forgotten that we’ve already shared all that. Until then, I like to feel my forehead leaning against yours during a casual conversation.

I look at him, trying to imagine the grown up he will become. Will he still love watching football games? Will he still enjoy playing chess with his father? Will he keep all those painstaking habits of his?

Lately I’ve been thinking about that woman, the one who’d be allowed to discover all the intricacies of his being. The one who would find out that rubbing his back makes him sleep like an angel. The one that’d kill his will and turn him back into a helpless baby, knelt at her feet, addicted, her baby. Will she be blond and sexier than I’ve ever been? Or he might choose an ever fascinating geek? How could she be able to put up with all his troublesome traits. Will she help him be a better man? Could we be friends?

I can almost feel. Heartbeat. Fingers. Moving downwards, along the headset cable. Volume. Up. Would she go with the flow? Would she be a little ray of sunshine?

Slide. Sleep. Kitty. Should be fed.

„Word flow.

Words flowing.

Missing gaps.

Troublesome.

Tiresome.

Whatever.”

Written on my daughter’s notebook. When did they grow so much?

I take her pen and scribble:

„I’m sorry!!”

Daddy.

Away.

[tonight I’m into cheesy stories, dar nici macar nu sunt in stare sa scriu una cum trebuie…]

I still remember it. That time when my touch could only hurt you. The things that you loved, the things that made you melt into my arms, they were all nothing but pain. Shiver. Hurt. Pain. And I only stood there besides you, wanting to touch, to feel, to taste. And you there, next to me, ill, weak, wishing all this would vanish, wishing for fresh air and open spaces, wishing for everything to go away, including me, with my irritating need of being close to you. Suffocating…

I had a bad dream last night. Not the kind you would imagine. It seems that fears still linger in the depths of my mind. And I couldn’t tell you on the phone, as we were both in a hurry. And I could not even see you today, for you were away…

Funny how it is. Sad funny. I used to feel you next to me all the time. Holding my hand, your arm circling my waist, your shadow warming my shoulders, your upper lip touching mine. Like a rupture in the world we live in, we’d walk in invisible parallel paths, and only the two of us would know it. But then you left. For a long time. I knew you’d come back, we were both sure of it. Yet, I could not go on another day. It hurt too much. So, I told myself…I started learning, convincing my brain that you’re so far away…That invisible connection between us grew longer, like stretching a piece of thread, thinner and thinner, until it almost faded away from my eyesight. Ever since, any time you leave, no matter how far from me, either a step or two, or a mile, or a world between us, that link remained unchanged. Thin, almost like it’s never been there. Ever since I live in fear that it would break. Ever since, I feel the void separating us. Ever since, I’m crawling through the dark, looking for you.

But I know, no matter how far you’d go, no matter how blind with fury I would be, no matter how lonely and hopeless… that thread is there. Even though I can’t seem to feel it anymore, even though it doesn’t seem to be enough anymore. In spite of all the winters and rains growing on our lips, I am a rock, and I stood here for you all this time. And I’m not going to stop now!

Yes, the first thing that caught my eye was the new shampoo. I mean, it took him ages to learn what kind of shampoo I use. He usually called me from the store to ask me again. And all of the sudden, a new bottle popped up in our bathroom. And not just any bottle. This was a refined, high quality shampoo. Very expensive! I used to fantasize about how my hair would look if I’d tried it, but I never found the guts to actually buy it. It just wasn’t me. And now it was lying there, on OUR shelf!

My first guess, OMG, he wanted to make me a surprise, how sweet! How did he know?? But then I realized that it’s not his style to risk and buy me something I might not like. And he couldn’t possibly know. The next thought, probably some cute girl advertising fooled him into buying that expensive product. I didn’t really care at the moment. I just wanted to try it.

So I had one nice, spoiled bath. But his reaction…his outburst when I got out of the bathroom. I’ll never forget it…Still makes me shiver and hurt inside.
„You used MY shampoo???”
„Ours!”
„No, MINE, I…bought it for MY hair! I want to have something for myself”, he yelled.

I just couldn’t understand at that time. Was he going through crisis? Was he trying to gain some sort of independence? Redefining the inner self? The need to own something, apart from me? I couldn’t tell.

It took me a while to figure it out. He wasn’t upset because I used his shampoo. He wasn’t upset because we shared so many things that one couldn’t possibly tell us apart. His silly rage was hardly a declaration of independence. No, he didn’t cry for himself. No, not life on his own, no change, no redefining. It wasn’t him who chose the stupid shampoo. He didn’t even buy it! It was simply a gift from her! So he could feel her closer when she’s away. And that night I smelled like her…and that was just too much for him to bear…Cause his adolescent fling was not that much of a fling anymore…

That night…I didn’t exactly grasp it, but I could feel it for the first time…the dark clouds of divorce rolling thunders over my family…

He made me coffee today. It was nice…watching him…I just stood there on the sofa, in the obscurity of our living-room…observing…He looked cute in that T-shirt of his…That’s strange, I used to hate that T-shirt. He opened the cupboard… I could even see the steams coming out of the kettle. The room was filled with a bittersweet flavour. As I was waiting for my daily treat I realized things were slightly different. No rush, no worry…everything was perfect in that stillness of the moment. I wonder if he noticed…what was happening. I guess it was just my moment. That little, yet amazing and breathtaking experience. I mean, it’s not a big deal. It’s just your guy making coffee! But sometimes…those little things, little cliches of our life…i don’t know…they just strike you. It’s so overwhelming when you realize that it’s really happening to you…and you can feel it with all your senses…and your mind, your everything…and you understand then why they are so important.

Too bad I couldn’t share it with him. It’s a very selfish, inner thing…For him, it was just making coffee at an odd hour. For me, it was everything. I don’t think he even realized I was there. I didn’t even want him to see me, to turn around and talk to me. I wasn’t looking for a smile. I just wanted to watch him…forever…

What else was missing? Oh, yes. I feel like petting a cat…We should’ve had a cat!

-Kitty…

„Do you know that I could fly you to heaven? And then I would let you fall…just like that…I’d open my arms and let you go…If you knew that, would you still trust me? Would you believe that I’d catch you again?!”

Who said that? I can’t tell whether it was real or not. Was it only a dream? I am pretty sure that I heard it before. But who can tell?? Is there any hope that I’ll remember?

I woke up at 2 a.m. Dark is the night…Stars sliding through my window…As if I was watching an old filmstrip…Everything stood still…except those shinny little stars in the corner of my window. Stories sent from another world…And I woke up again, one hour later…and again, and again…and the night didn’t seem to end anymore…And then it hit me. One year before?! I finally took the courage to return…my special place…where I could see inside of me… deeply, true, uncensored, without sparing myself… no hidden catch, no strings attached. I was so scared of what I could find out about me. But, strangely, I was fine!

I can still feel the wind carrying the salty scent of the sea…and that old song…from that man’s radio. He was blind…smilling hapily and petting his fluffy cat sitting on his knees… He missed the landscape, but it seemed that he could see further than I would ever reach…And the song – ohh! – the song… „I just called…” Simply. One call from heaven…

Yesterday…I was floating. I felt all the molecules in my body vibrating in a weightless manner. My muscles hurt. My skin felt different…strange…distant…as if it wasn’t mine anymore. And I just stood there in a corner amazed by my own transformation. I’ve lost contact with the rest of the world…And since then…I keep trying to adapt, to live as I used to pretending that nothing ever happened. I remember how it used to be. It just doesn’t come naturally anymore.

Today…life struck me in a brutal way. No warning, no smooth passage. It hit me with its fundamental, yet rudimentary, pains. My soul bleeds. I’m blinded by the colours of this world. It’s too much to bear sometimes…

„Do you ever feel that life has passed you by?”
„No, I feel that it knocked me down and then ran over me…”

I dreamt of heaven last night. It’s difficult to wake up in hell and keep moving.

„And I’ve never met anyone quite like you before
Oh, up, down, turn around; please don’t let me hit the ground
Tonight I think I walk alone, to find my soul desire to go home”

I’m smoking my last cigarette on this afternoon spying the people in the street. My nextdoor neighbour is sitting on the balcony. She seems sad. Oh, she lost her kitty some time ago. I wonder if that’s the reason why…I kindda miss it too. Funny, yeah, it looked nice. Little ball of fur climbing the trees. One morning I found it scratching my kitchen window. Yup, she’s cute. If I knew she’s normal, I would ask her out…maybe…someday. Who needs kitties anyway?

They drained the pond this morning. How sad… My kid played there the whole summer. Well, it wasn’t exactly a pond. She used to call it like that. She kept telling me about their little lake with goldfish and frogs and water lilies and rocks…I was quite astonished when I heard her for the first time. I didn’t really get it until she showed me the place. In fact, it was only a puddle on the sidewalk. Some damaged pipes were the source of all the mistery. It became rapidly the favourite spot of all the children in the neighbourhood. And I couldn’t get enough of her stories about that magical place.

This morning, though…while I was going to work, I noticed some workers digging…and I knew it was the end. And I felt sorry for the kids…and all their little dreams. I looked at those serious men ruining so many happy moments without even knowing it. Why did they came? The broken pipes laid there for months…And then I started wondering…how all those tough men look like in those cute, sweet, sensitive moments of theirs…They can be incredibly touching…like that man who came a few months ago at my office with a kitty he found on the streets. He confessed that he wanted to give it away. Yet, for some unexplainable reason, he decided to keep it…He didn’t know anything about pets. And he seemed so clumsy when trying to take care of it. His hands were trembling and I realized that this was something important for him. I could almost feel the bond between those two souls. Amazing…

I also think of my husband when I say this. Lately, he’s become so…I don’t know…crazy, irresponsible, cheerful and sad at the same time…so full of life… I can’t blame him, he’s in love. Unfortunately, not with me…Actually, I never thought this could be possible, but, yes, I’m happy for him. Since I first met him, I never believed he could fall in love like this. So childish and reckless, so sweet, so curious…like he’s rediscovering himself and the world he didn’t really notice so far. Like a teenager who doesn’t dare to express his feelings. And I love to see him like that and I’m glad for each new step that he takes, for every emotion, every thought that lights his face, every plan he makes, every decision he takes. I feed myself with his happiness. Is that really possible? Is there something wrong with me? Because…as long as he’s here and he keeps this mad experience for himself, I can only smile and watch him intrigued and fascinated. Yet, I die with every second he thinks of her…”I’m stoned in love but not with you”…

And this made me remember so many things…and made me miss all of them. Maybe I should tell you…all those…maybe you should know, before it’s too late… I miss loving that stranger that you were. Trying to find out who you are…startling with every new finding. Living without knowing what tomorrow brings. When everything was just a game and I didn’t even know what I felt or what I wanted. When my love was pure and naive, when a smile could light the world. I miss being shy and quiet in your presence. I miss being afraid to touch you. I miss sleeping in your arms for the first time and melting…And no dream can replace that.

It was a late November…or maybe an early December. I don’t recall it quite well. I do remember it was a misty, dark evening. Trees were sheding cold, liquid tears into the silence of the night. I was returning home…from work, that is…

As I aproached the 7th Street, I heard a shy moan, a very weak cry. For a moment, I really freaked out. It seemed human! I started to look for the source of that unexpected sound. And there it was, behind the dust bins…it wasn’t a child, as I first feared. It was a poor little kitty. It seemed so…not scared…more like…upset! I found that strange for a pet. So I took it into my arms and cuddled it. And afterwards, I just couldn’t let it go anymore. I couldn’t leave it on the streets. So lonely, so small, so vulnerable…

Therefore, I found myself a new flat-mate. I was thinking of taking it to a shelter or something the very next day, but somehow that furry little creature didn’t want to leave my house. I’m not kidding! Really! The next morning I was drinking my coffee wondering what cats usually ate…The only suitable thing available in my fridge was a carton of milk. But she seemed incredibly hungry so I’ve decided to give her away as soon as possible. Therefore, I got dressed, grabbed my car keys and opened the door. The kitty was watching me with that innocent look…gazing with amazement…Almost like she was asking me: „What are you doing?” I tried to take her but she stuck her claws into the carpet. So…there I was…a serious grown man trying to trick a little cat. Milk…cookies…lasagna…nothing worked! At least, I found out she’s not some sort of Garfield, thank God! In the end, I sat down on the floor and started talking to her. Promising that I won’t leave her and that she needn’t worry anymore about her future. Ironically, I remembered something similar…distant memories…same place…same feeling…not wanting to let go, to abandon…only that I never said those words…even though I meant them…I didn’t have the courage to say them, to take such responsibility…But I did then, in a desperate atempt to restore the past, to undo the mistakes, to find forgiveness.

So, I left home with my new kitty. She somehow believed me and all her fears were gone. She enjoyed exploring the interior of my car. She was nice and quiet at the vet. She didn’t trash my leather seats while I was buying cat food from the supermarket.

I remember it took me about a week to find her a name. I mean…it took me a week to realize that she responds everytime I call her kitty. And then it became Kitty…I know, silly me!

Nothing to chase away the darkest thoughts. Not even the soft sound of my cat’s paws on the kitchen floor. Not even the rain tapping in my silent window. It’s so quiet in here and the voices are low. This house has never been as empty as today. And as the evening slowly embraces my deepest fears, I try to forget that I dreamed of you. It’s better not to think. It’s easier and healthier.

…And hours flow. Today was left behind. Tomorrow is far away. Out of reach! My dreams flew into the sun. I forgot how it felt…missing you, enjoying you. I was too tired to feel any of that. Music hurts at this timeless moment of the day. It prevents me from thinking, though!…by giving me a headache.

Pointless, however. Too tired to sleep, wishing for the hours to pass me by. I need the sunrise. To wake me up from this. So I could crash on the couch afterwards, putting my troubled soul to sleep. Where’s my cat? Wait, I don’t have any…She left me. Two months ago. Or was it two years?

3:00 a.m. I got up and rushed to the window. For a moment I had this unexpected feeling. I felt like..it seemed that…well…I thought it was snowing! But it wasn’t, of course! How could it be?! But it doesn’t really matter. I was a kid for aproximately two seconds. And then I could tell time again. And minutes didn’t seem endless anymore.

Good night, kitty, wherever you are! Maybe I’ll buy a bunny tomorrow. To take your place. Or some fish…Yeah! I’ll buy some fish. Will you come back if I’ll trade you the fish?

BookFrenzy

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O pata gri intr-un ocean de culoare.

Iunie 2017
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