second chances

Sometimes I think that the only way we could make it work is if we went back to being strangers. And re-write everything,

We’d meet and introduce each other. You’d follow my nervous gestures as I run my fingers through my hair, and I’d laugh at your jokes.

The conversations will be long, so will the walks. You’ll learn about my life and find every insignificant detail from my past fascinating because it made me the way I am today. And I will cherish the man you’ve come to be through heartaches and struggles.

We’ll create new memories. This time we’ll be careful not to stop hiding our flaws and let everything fall apart like the first time.

But, most of all, you’ll do better at hiding the other women, and I – at pretending it doesn’t bother me.


emotional downSHIFTthing

It’s funny how little we know about ourselves and how much time needs to pass until we start to understand what motivates us. I used to think I was a realist, but with great delay I realized I’m nothing but a common dreamer. Too little too late though…
And I am scared to death. And it’s far too quiet around me, even for a person in love with silence. This time it’s quiet inside of me and that’s never a good sign. The men in my life rarely call when everything’s alright – that explains my previous love of quarrels. They always call when I’m not online long after midnight; when I’ve said ‘goodbye’ or when they sense that someone else has fallen in love with me. A man always knows when someone else loves his girl. It’s too bad they never know when their girl has grown tired of being ‘theirs’ in their own way (of being who she’s expected to be and not loved for who she is).
I’m always sad to part with the image of myself in his eyes for I’ve grown fond of this role as it’s been the only one I know for quite a while now..I don’t know anything else. I will have to learn to be a person from scratch..yet again. Then I remember a guy who drove as I switched between stations, briefly taking his eyes off the road to catch a glimpse of my dishevelled hair and wandering smile. We were looking at each other and nobody said a thing. That silence was filled with promises and life. But that was a long time ago when I was different and he knew how to be with someone rather than make someone fit being with him.
We always know how to waste away the things we want the most. And time passes. It doesn’t heal, but it brings tormented peace and suffered solitude. You forget what drove you apart and start remembering what made you fall in love. The weird thing came when the more I forgot the hurt, the disillusions, the disappointment and the reasons behind all of it, the less and less I loved him. No one could convince me otherwise. Because the day you’re able to forgive everything, your heart will be reborn liberated and emptied.
I light up a cigarette – it has never failed to give me that sense of wholeness, which no man ever could (but all of them promised). I like the way the smoke penetrates and fills my lungs just as I wish the longing for me would penetrate and fill his being. As the desire for him filled mine.
Do you feel scared? Do you need something more?

A girl is always unusually quiet when she’s parting with someone in her soul…

soul[less] language

Some people connect to others through compassion. I’ve always done it through pain. It’s easy for me to tell when someone is hurting – the sadness around them is palpable. When you’ve been observing people for ages in your solitude, you become strangely familiar with their joys, sorrow, regrets, wishes, desires, disappointments and failures. People lie only when they talk. Take away that option and they become a fragile vase of truth. Nothing is more beautiful.
They were standing on the sidewalk. A man and a woman. I didn’t want to intrude on their aching relationship, it just happened. Maybe it’s become too much of a habit for me to pick up pain whenever it’s near me. I instantly knew what they were saying to each other, even though I was unable to hear a single word.
They were just standing there. People passing by.
She had tried walking away and he had stopped her.
Her arms, loosely handing by her body while he was holding her shoulders with his palms, gently caressing them, whispering something in her ear. That’s the way men hold a woman when they’re trying to calm her down, to get her to reconsider, to give in to his reasons and abandon her emotions.
He was talking to her, but she was avoiding eye contact. Her head was tilting to one side and she was staring at the ground (note: the grimmest sign – when a woman won’t look you in the eyes). She didn’t want to listen to what he had to say, she didn’t want to understand or accept it.
It didn’t matter what his reasons were – that he couldn’t get a divorce, stop seeing his ex, have a future with her – I was witnessing a scene when a woman had just understood just how unnecessary she was in his life. For a woman to understand this, means she will gradually come to terms with just how undesired she is [by that guy] too. Once she does she is free. It’s one of the longest and most painful paths to walk. Men enviously call it ‘moving on without regrets’ and think it resembles rebirth. Truth is – it’s a thousand deaths by your own hand – relentless, graphic and continuous.
I was strangely drawn to them and as I passed them by I kept looking back just to catch one last glimpse of their final moments together. People are either fixated on what they have or (more often) on what they don’t, so they rarely have the chance to stop for a while and witness the ending of something (and actually realize they are witnessing an end). They start fixating on it only after it’s long gone and has passed in the category of things they ‘don’t have’. I find that strangely mesmerizing.
Then I walked away.