Face it. That you cannot go on without me. Toss that pride aside and let it out. Put an end to the torment of never knowing which way the wind is blowing.

I still remember…the crazy ways of starting an argument and never settle until the truth had sweated out of our bodies. I still reminisce the endless walks down our own happiness spree, ignoring everyone else, because everything else, it simply didn’t matter. I  can still feel the dance after all the music had stopped and the passionately maddening sound of your voice. I carry on to still remember us. Do you?

I still crave for that love and I am convinced that no greater one could ever exist. I am not afraid or ashamed to acknowledge it, life is too short and too cruel having put this distance between us. Make it vanish, take it away or fill it with more memories of us. I cannot picture what the future holds without your warm presence in it. Can you?

I still want to remember how your swift and firm hand seized mine.Sometimes, it all seems to be exhaustingly  difficult to remember these. I think time no longer needs time and we may write our own story. Don’t you?

I don’t know how overwhelming or deprived of importance this must feel to you now. Will you tell me?


Free to Love


“Love liberates. It doesn’t just hold—that’s ego. Love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says, ‘I love you. I love you if you’re in China. I love you if you’re across town. I love you if you’re in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I’d like to have your arms around me. I’d like to hear your voice in my ear. But that’s not possible now, so I love you. Go.” ~  Maya Angelou

I just want to close my eyes and see you … remember you with each fiber of my body, every cell of my skin to be filled with your warmth. It is impossible to forget you, as my body remembers yours all the time: the sweet, calm emotion of your arms embracing me, I can still feel it. It’s been almost a year and more days to pass until we will be together again, yet we’d never felt this close. At the slightest inflection of your voice, my heart starts racing, telling me you’re here and that the empty side of my bed is but an illusion. You can make the time stop: nothing’s changed and everything’s alright at your only reassurance. We do not fear distance, we own it. We let distance pull us together and confess rather raw and unfinished, honest thoughts that make us unbreakable. No judgement finds its place in our life, because we can see ourselves mirrored in each other thus, knowing what to adjust and how to be free to be us even when or not together.

‘What is on your mind?’

The type of question that no longer seems to be needed; because you and me, we both know. It is the look in your eyes, the mere reflection of my own image and tears that gather in the corner of your eyes that speak. Words are redundant when the souls connect; we are so different, yet so inseparably the same. You once said we were twins and perhaps that in an ancient time our souls truly were, and now they had re-found each other. It might be the reason why we know one another inside-out and why we find comfort in simply being in a duet. Not two voices that sound like one, but voices that beautifully harmonize and make the singing birds feel jealousy.

There is no part of my existence that has not been incommensurably touched by you. My coffee? It always reminds me of the early mornings when before leaving for work, I would make two cups of coffee, gently placing one by the night stand next to you, only to find it later in the evening, almost untouched and in the same place. It did not bother me, on the contrary, it was one of the sweetest ways to start the day although you didn’t need to wake up and neither did you really enjoy the bitter-sweet taste of it, you wanted to be part of my morning routine and it never felt more lovely. Or your hugs when waking up beside you, that only made want to abandon all worldliness and just slip back into dreams.

Your arms bear magic, the kind of magic that sweeps all the sorrows and make me believe all is possible.

Piano Blues: where is the romance?


Where is it?

Has it gone too far for us to reach it? Or have we become so jaded that we just don’t see it?

As one of my favorite French writers once said, falling in love is necessary … if only to provide an alibi for all the random despair we are going to feel anyway.* Sometimes, I am asking myself if that isn’t all that we are looking for: excuses. An alibi that will keep our feelings safe from the criticizing eye of the world and perhaps, from our very own lover. Showing that we care, that we truly love has become unsafe. Instead, we prefer to save the romantic gestures and just ‘keep it real’. I cannot help but wonder, when it comes to relationships, is our reality indeed la vérité, or just a mere projection of what we want to see?

In order to keep things clear, I would like to mention that when referring to romance, I do not mean the tacky, meaningless kind of one, but the real one, that you know with your whole heart that is genuine, that type of romance that makes you feel speechless and lost in the moment, fearlessly exposing your feelings. The kind that leaves you vulnerable and touches every chord of your being. Like a good piano concert, that taps into your senses and makes you vibrate.

My heart’s leftovers: a poem written on a tiny piece of paper and carefully hidden in the gift box. I still have it, although it’s been over four years now and it still gives me the thrills of that first date. Among other romantic expressions, this one I will cherish the most. Always. And simply can’t stop asking myself, what a greater romance than knowing those lyrics are all about you, just for you. And no, I do not need to shake the dust off it, because it’s out there, in the author’s eyes, every single time.

*Albert Camus

a response to –