The wind was slapping my face, tears down my cheeks and the warm steam of a cup of tea flying away. I noticed new growth on the trees outside your balcony and my heart broke more.
After weeks of wondering who I would be if I hadn't been in constant relationships since I was 17, and if I should actually try it out for some time, it punched me heavy on the guts.
All dies and regrows, but we may never be cyclic trees alongside each other, those I thought we were. I missed you and rejected you as well until you came out in a wave of anger I couldn't understand.
After weeks of wondering who I would be if I hadn't been in constant relationships since I was 17, and if I should actually try it out for some time, it punched me heavy on the guts.
All dies and regrows, but we may never be cyclic trees alongside each other, those I thought we were. I missed you and rejected you as well until you came out in a wave of anger I couldn't understand.
Why do words come naturally to my wounded heart? I used to write about you as the sun, in happiness and love, and now I'm dry. Winter has caused mischief in my soul, so the engines of these fingers have started to move again, and I wonder if ending my social media addiction could heal my broken soul... or is it my brain that's broken, and does it have a cure?
I need a break. I need a break, I need a break.
But life has many responsibilities and somehow opportunities come too slowly. I'm trying not to lose them, grab them even in my fear, remind me I deserve them, and trust, trust the universe, the moon, the sun and my sun that you are.
But life has many responsibilities and somehow opportunities come too slowly. I'm trying not to lose them, grab them even in my fear, remind me I deserve them, and trust, trust the universe, the moon, the sun and my sun that you are.
- A new job for "mittel Mai", many hours and maybe I can make my latest goal come true: How would my life change if I could drive? A huge slap of proving myself wrong, against myself, winning this fight and losing it as well, but ultimately, the reward of seeing those dreams of us in a white jeep on the highlands, following the northern lights, come true.
I fear dreams are better than reality, for all is perfect there, loving, buzzing, sparkling; we are not who my mind sees. It is a broken mind, and I am broken too.
You told me today to be big, that's who you fell in love with, and you are right. How did it happen, and when? My heart shrunk, my mouth shut, my body froze and my brain has been running a marathon ever since. I miss the silence of this soul, the creativity of my hips, the eroticism of my sung words. You met my fire and now I'm just embers, it wasn't you.
My lovely creature, my sun. How did I come to see you and fear you as such? You, who respected and saw me since the first date. You, who accepts and cares for all who have found a space in your heart. You, of all people! How could I be so blind to your ways? How could I misunderstand your language so deeply?
It wasn't you, it was every single past one, since 17. No. Since way before, since I was three.
It wasn't you, it was every single past one, since 17. No. Since way before, since I was three.
Today I told you about protecting my mother, how I told Miguel to fuck off and he cried and apologized to her, my mother would have never talked... As I mentioned that to you, I remembered my own fire, one that seems extinct right now, one that frightens me. One that a 14-year-old should have used for her own wishes and dreams, hobbies and growth, not to protect her mother from yet another bad business decision with another fishy man.
Just like the millionaire comparing himself betting and losing, to me being scammed working at his shop... Such is the confusion I have lived in since I was three years old and never learnt to defend myself without having too harsh consequences. For it's always been grown-ups who don't seem to have grown making me feel like a child and their protector, and the guilty one, and the child again as they please. Forever a child, but never one either.
Just like the millionaire comparing himself betting and losing, to me being scammed working at his shop... Such is the confusion I have lived in since I was three years old and never learnt to defend myself without having too harsh consequences. For it's always been grown-ups who don't seem to have grown making me feel like a child and their protector, and the guilty one, and the child again as they please. Forever a child, but never one either.
I want to be big as you said, have that fire re-ignited, defend myself instead of please and appease, and stay kind despite the heartless people that surround me in this part of the world.
I want to be big and make those dreams come true, not be afraid like my mother, half in and half out, waiting for a partner to inject their enthusiasm, or simply approve of her plans.
I will follow my own path and hopefully, you'll be there when I am back, and hopefully, we'll rejoice in my fire, and hopefully, you'll get infected with it and make the changes you must, to be where you want, and hopefully, we'll stay together, happier and more alive than ever, and hopefully this blues we've been dancing will turn into an upbeat ecstasy for you and I, and our ecstasy will turn spring into summer, so we'll go for a swim at the river, despite our fears of the darkness underneath, since we will have understood that we're indeed floating in the void of existence, only it's infinity and the universe, only it's not adrift, but the grass holds us down and so do other forces we may not yet fully unveil.
Hopefully then, we'll hold each other with full hands, and strongly beating hearts and look into each other's eyes to find out that it was worth it to have stayed alive after all.