Infatuation.

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     The way he blinked was obsessing her. In a few hours he lost his boyishness. She was staring at him, waiting for the right words to come out of his mouth. His glance was empty and his soul had grown. He was saying nonsensical words, hoping that he would confuse her.
That morning the sky was clear. Even the navy clouds were afraid to confront his temper. Her bed was warm, the creases of her blanket tightened her body and she wouldn’t leave that bed if the alarm clock wasn’t so persistent. Hours later she found herself insulted by his manners. Clouded by that feeling of disavowal, she was still studying his movements with the edge of her eye. She used to do that quite often as it was such a pleasure to observe a man’s wildness fighting the child inside him. “Men must believe us stupid when thinking that we don’t know!”, she quoted. She was repeating the same preposition to herself. That was the truth that she didn’t want to live by.
She was a bit charmed and half excited. He was unpredictable and that was the thing that agonized her.Even if he became what she couldn’t stand to encounter, a part of her was thrilled to read another chapter of him.

Midnight hues.

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He had the flavour of vanilla and cinnamon. His lips twisted arrogantly, disturbing me in a seductive way. The color of his eyes was burnt umber, sensual and stunning. I would describe him as the the most cunning man I have ever encountered but that would be only the preface. There is a spark of sensibility in his eyes, well hidden behind his pride.
It was after midnight when the rain stopped. The pavements were humid and the contemporary bars which once used to host an army of people were soulless. Not far away from that deserted road, the second floor of an unpopular coffee shop was more alive than ever. While stepping in, I remembered the beginning of last autumn when a short, brunette lady was serving me hot coffee, accompanied by a paper and a pen. When I first met her, she was glancing me moderately. After a while she got used to my presence at the table near the left window but she never asked me why I was always coming alone.
She wasn’t there that night and I wasn’t there alone.
The room was darker than the rainy night. I was staring at the beautiful shape of our glasses, somehow avoiding his glance. We talked about things that my mind wants to forget but it pleased me so much talking to him. I wanted to hear more of his stories as I had the curiosity to learn his deepest thoughts. Every movement of his, I studied carefully. He was a book that I wanted so badly to read but some pages were still unwritten; he didn’t have the courage to reveal the whole story and that is were I stopped.

Hopes & Expectations.

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     If only our hopes were equal to our expectations! I hoped for an unconditional, consuming and undoubted love. What I got, was nothing but the opposite of the three above mentioned. My dreams were bigger than that, other people’s lives were implicated in it and the doubts that consumed me were born by my own lover. My expectations were grounded.
     In present, my mind is more polluted than ever. I won’t dare comparing it to the unsettling weather. I would insult mother nature. But I can definitely find a resemblance somewhere; to the infected human mind over the years. As seen in our narcissistic history, our hopes through the years might evolve into a destructive road trip. We are dreaming, hoping and aiming. With carefulness we should proceed, no doubt. If not, the fault lies within us. In this equation, our expectations might not be the same to our reality.
     I did hope for those three gifts mentioned at the beginning to be given to me but what did I expect? After all, I must admit, I didn’t expect an easy journey nor a path filled with roses.
     I fear the one thing that I hoped was a story. Perhaps that makes me a mentally disturbed person. What if all I wanted was inspiration? And if so, will I be charged with the ‘crime’?
     After all, what if I am clouded by this love that I didn’t expect? I shall confess, my expectations changed even if my hopes and dreams remain the same.

Mourning.

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    We were falling into the temptation of giving up. There wasn’t much left of us than our misery. Our hearts had locks and chains. I don’t know if he wanted to save mine but I was tired of trying to save his. Sadness was my goddess now and I worshipped her so deeply that it consumed me .
The night had fallen darkly and noisy. The skies were also compelled by my goddess. Her pale pink dress fitted her perfectly, like the spring flowers fit their season. My imagination could make everything seem of such a beauty. I was silent and destroyed. There were sorrows gasping inside me and earthquakes diminishing everything that I had built.
There was a thing about his touch that disappointed me. A feeling of betrayal perhaps. He savaged my body and I savaged his. It never felt like a romantic intercourse that would lift you up to heavens, neither an unpleasant connection.
My chest is hurting and a nod is blocking my respiratory system. The way my saliva stops at some point  through my lungs it’s annoying and painful.
My soul is completely wrecked. I wish I could shout this pain out of my chest and drown the world with my tears but even that is impossible. I have lost all of my intimacy; all that I had. Now it’s all of me, standing by the window, sobbing, waiting for the next snowflake to fall down on earth so I can mourn about it until the morning comes.

Day Dreamer.

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      The wind was blowing out but the sun was still shining proudly. I was tormented by my thoughts and the desire that haunts my heart. There wasn’t anything irrational about that moment, when my feet were moving rapidly keeping my heartbeats’ pace. The road seemed infinite and his portrait in my mind made me feel as if I didn’t really existed. Those moments were a dream or just a game of my untamed imagination. I was able to hear his soft voice and for a certain inexplicable reason, I smiled. Even my subconscious was laughing at me. The wind was fighting against me and a few seconds later I felt my soul drowning in its’ sorrows. I was trying hard to keep my tears in my tiny tear ducts. His figure was hanging around on the red carpet of my worrisome mind, proud of himself for being there. The look in his eyes was contemplative. I began breathing hard, almost not at all. My heart was dizzy alongside my body while climbing up the marble stairs of the campus. The wind blew tougher upon me, fulfilling my insides with a devouring sadness. I was obliged to smile in order to hide my tearful eyes and continue walking on a slower rhythm.
     He was walking by my pace, still on my mind. I would swear that his hand was holding mine all the way but I would be called nonsensical. But then; he was the only one who understood my craziness. He dealt with it fearlessly. And yes, he was holding my hand and I was the happiest person in that moment. His maroon eyes were shining as the sun that was accompanying me from the very beginning. I would dare say, he was my sun.

Matutine Agitation.

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There was a line separating us. He thought that line was just because we had united two single beds together in order to make a big one. It wasn’t just that. In my mind, the line was infinite. It was like we had some boundaries separating us; like two different neighbouring countries. Our souls won’t bond even if our hearts imply a love affair.
At the moment, I feel a vast pain which I cannot explain. More than that, I feel an unusual rage in my heart and a suffocation of my lungs. There is a nod that makes it hard to breathe. Tears run of my eyes when writing these lines and a deep depression submerges me to the point of feeling like drowning into the dark bottom of the Atlantic ocean. The fact that I cannot find the roots of my heartbreaking keeps me awake. The night is longer this way, when my heart isn’t at peace and the only noise that I hear is his breath. I looked down the road from the window and there was no soul wondering around. It seems like the drunk are filling themselves with more alcohol and the peaceful lovers are holding hands under their parfumed sheets. What about the hopeless romantics and troubled minds? I guess we are all losing sleep or having nightmares that suffocate us even when we’re asleep.
I still find it hard to explain this pain that tonight has brought upon me.  I find it healthier if I close my tearful eyes and keep them that way until the sun rises again.

Sillage.

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     The night has been covered by a glossy humidity and most of the stars were hidden behind the navy clouds. Last night I was feeling vulnerable and incapable of controlling my emotions.
We were watching the city lights at three in the morning from the sea shore. There were only twenty centimeters separating us but it felt like miles because our hearts had chosen different paths.
I strongly believe though that somewhere on the road, our souls touched again, for a few seconds. Then they pulled each other away because of the rationality of our maddening thoughts. Perhaps it was the first time when we calculated the consequences of possible irreparable mistakes. At the end of the night, I felt a strange happiness.
       You see gentlemen; this was the night that changed the paths of our hearts. I knew the moment before closing my eyes that I did the right thing. I dove into a deep relaxing sleep. My dreams confirmed my reality.
       At the heart of this blustery winter I found my soul tantalizing.I was conquered by an emotion more powerful than perturbation. It was so intense that somehow led me to being euphoric. I would have easily been characterized as a lunatic woman. Even if I was that, I have to share my insane thoughts with you or at least, the ones that might hearten you.
      I slipped into an intimacy that brightened me up because now I knew the reason why my heart was burning. It was him; the viridian man. He slashed part of my past without even knowing and made himself comfortable at my heart’s side.

Over-analyzing.

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     When you fell asleep I tried to guess your dreams. I was staring at you impatiently because I was waiting for a gesture of yours; a movement with your right hand, a twist of your lips, even a hard breath. I wanted to see something that could betray your inner thoughts. My hand was moving over yours, close to your cheek and my lips were kissing your shoulder . At that sweet moment which many of you might call I wondered what I felt. The truth is that I couldn’t answer my question. I thought: ” What if we are more animalistic than we thought? What if we are rippers of inocent souls or failures of Adam and Eve?” A certain pesimism conquered me and more than that; sadness. I began to underestimate my abilities, the future and even the past but worse of all, I was confused about my decisions. I stood still for a while, without moving a cell and repeated to myself the last four words. What if this is the time I will regret? What if everything turns into a huge failure and I will be miserable? Those “ifs” are putting me into a judge court every night and there is nobody there to defend me. Around me there are different versions of myself, each and every one of them blaming me for a mistake.
He moved his body a little bit further from me, enough to kill my noisy thoughts and bring me back to that moment.
I had to sleep because that was the only thing that I could to at that moment. What if I tried to depress myself even more? It would have been such a futile thing. I wished for a dream that won’t be my guillotine and so I had…

Exasperation.

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     A simple gesture of tenderness, that was what I needed. More than that, I think I needed someone’s gesture of tenderness; but I can do nothing but deny my thoughts. It was the hardest but simplest thing that I could do for now. I feel suffocated by crowds and desperate for silence. My soul has become a controversial place and the demons that once used to ponder around my darkest corners, are hidden behind the depression that torments me.

     The man with the viridian eyes has become a necessary variable on my life equation. There is one thing I am not certain of; whether I want to solve it or not. Perhaps the procedure of solving it scares me. A brunette man once told me that love hurts and in the end I will see a soul being tortured. I would not believe his words if I didn’t see his own soul being tortured a few months after he confessed these words to me. I remember his eyes in tears both times. I wanted to become the solution to his equation and get him out of his misery. Perhaps my intentions changed in time and I forgot what I wanted in the first place. The night I counted fifty stars in the sky in his favor, we thought we wouldn’t need anything else in the world. We were enough for each other.
     Somehow I see part of the past repeating itself. I feel attached to those viridian eyes and even if my heart implores my mind to trust him completely, I cannot. Perhaps that shows how messed up I am and affected by the past.

Diamonds and Memories.

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    7ec749468838a325e9afdde88c8c6aa7   If only the days wouldn’t be so dark! The nights of the moody November seem tragically warm. The combination of oxygen and carbon dioxide that runs through my lungs is blocking my respiratory system making me forget my existence.     The flesh that covers my bones can’t protect my insides well enough. My soul is lost somewhere in the middle of eras and memories. At first I thought I had lost my mind but as the days of my loneliness passed, I found myself into a world that I had created a long time ago. I felt confused when I realized where my deepest thoughts lied. Somehow I was found between my mistakes and rights, not knowing what to choose as a life compass. Perhaps I was my mistakes and my flesh contained everything that was rightful to me. I embraced that theory while continuing the trip to finding out what I really wanted.
     I began torturing myself, feeding me useless love, aimless hopes. There was nothing that could save me from this vacuum that I had in my heart. I questioned my choices and I began my own interrogation. At the very end I knew I had to act based on how I felt.
     I closed my eyes for a few seconds while the raindrops were wetting my skin. It felt like a river of tears running of my eyes. I needed that one person that could make me smile, his hug and his suffocating perfume. We had created a home of our hearts and now it’s all gone because of the hurricanes that crossed our paths.
     The fireplace was still illuminating the room, my cup of coffee was half empty, the rain seemed to have stopped and my thoughts had entangled with my dreams.

Viridis.

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There are nights we all desire more than a simple hug or a gesture of tenderness. We need a fragrance that can make us choke of its’ powerful properties. That kind of fragrance I had every night in my arms as the sun was hiding behind the navy clouds. Every time he touched my skin with his baldly lips, I felt his need of affection. I always have an image of his eyes in my mind; the way he laughs is melting my bones. His riddles are gently visible while his eyes are miraculously twisting of amusement. His lips are the last ones to show the great excitement that unfolds a depressive happiness.

     I am used to falling asleep after him so I have the privilege to watch over him while his subconscious unravels his deepest fears or desires. His arm is wrapped around me and I am stupidly smiling while his heart is beating either slower or faster than usual. That moment I felt a great pain filling my lungs and conquering my soul.
I am haunted once again by the ghosts of my past and their countenance reminds me of a brunette man. No matter how hard I tried to breath out every concern that tortured my heart, it was futile.
     Tonight the darkness is silent and catastrophic for my mental health. The wind has stopped fizzling and the air I am inhaling is burning my insides. I feel every suffocating emotion submerging me and his absence keeps my demons alive. I shall fall into deep sleep now. All I need to see is the dazzling sun to give me hope.

Vanity.

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     A fearful person. That is the perfect word to characterize him. The man wearing the viridian mask was always silent while his thoughts could torment any demon in hell. He thought that words have no meaning when you can conquer the world with your actions. Even if deep down in my soul I believed in his theories, I think of him as truly mistaken.
The sky is cloudy and the black widow surprises me with her serendipity and negligence of the revengeful heavens. The city lights are blurry, reflecting as murderous shadows on the glassy windows. The autumn leaves seem all blackish now, same pattern and nuance. The pine trees are moody because their children are gone and the dirty water of the rain has sickened them. Somehow, those pines trees can resemble to the viridian man. His seedy provision has the same effect on my disposition. Even if it is a fact well known, I cannot accept it. I wish his branches could expand more on my thoughtful mind and answer to my pitiful questions. I am being conquered and pestered by every possible word that can come out of his mouth.
The walls around me are whitish and the furniture seems nothing like luxury. The mattress has no sheets on it and the floor is cold. The window is half opened. I can see the wildness of the human souls pondering on the streets; some indecisive, others lighthearted.
The viridian man was still wearing his impersonal mask. His lips won’t curve into a smile and his eyes won’t show any annoyance. Some may say that hiding what’s torturing you is the only armor that can protect you from the untamed world. I might agree but in the viridian man’s case I fear he excesses the use of this lethal drug.

Memories tied with ribbon.

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    I plucked my index finger and I felt nothing. I had a feeling of numbness, as if someone injected me with morphine. My mind though was flicking ashes of some old memories, unwrapping them like they were tied with ribbon, then taking one by one out of their boxes and putting them side by side. After a couple of minutes, they were all put in pain sequence, firstly the ones that hurt most and then the less worrisome. Apparently, the alcohol was doing its’ job so I had to hurry before its’ effect will be gone. My memories sat on a continuous strip and my mind, as a machine, did the processing. Suddenly, it stopped. I heard a loud command coming from underneath, somewhere on the left part of my chest. My heart screamed.

     She wasn’t prepared for such a savage experimentation on her needs. I plucked my little finger this time and it felt as if plucking my soul. Then I remembered the words. ”You don’t know what you want.” For a second or maybe more, I wondered if that predication was true. Obviously it wasn’t. I laugh at myself when saying this but maybe you will understand. How can I pronounce myself to a person that wishes to become part of my life and tell him that what I truly want is completely different? Others will judge me for not telling him the truth. Can I be excused for not choosing to be cruel with another human soul?
     The ribbon was still untied, the boxes empty and my memories aligned like soldiers prepared for inspection. My heart was still quarreling with my mind, both having my soul sitting on a bench, staring at them desperately and deeply hoping that my heart will win. So she did. The alcohol tormented no more my veins and I was back to my senses. How was that really? Don’t ask me. I just chose to let my heart continue what she was already doing. Loving. She never stopped. Why would I make her stop now?

Pain & Happiness as a life compass.

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Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo

   There is a chance when you are born that you will know only happiness in your life. But that, despite the fact that is a simple chance, that is the deepest wish of a caring parent. Many of us haven’t known caring parents or others had the misfortune of paying their parents’ mistakes. Either way, the chance to know only happiness in your life is ‘one in an infinite’ , if infinity was countable, but still impossible. Considering an infinity bigger than other, we could say that the chance of complete, life-time happiness is considerably small or just non-existent.

     Growing up, learning to walk and speak, we realized that we loved those who loved us and granted our most profound wishes. I have not heard of a child in this world loving the evil or someone who hurts him or her. But a book stays still as the reader grows, becomes wiser or stupider. But that doesn’t matter because we are not books, we are the stories that color every page. That’s why we grow, our internal cosmos expands, travels on unknown lands, fighting, wishing, hoping, laughing and hurting.
     Is it always going to be like this? Yes, gentlemen. Always. Because as you know, when you first met love, when you first got into bed with it, when you first cried of love and disappointment, that wasn’t your choice. You chose a good evil. How is that possible? It is gentlemen. Growing older we realize that despite happiness, we bring upon ourselves pain, or life does so, but still, we cannot always fall for what is meant to do good.
     Somehow my thoughts ran to my chemistry classes. My professor always pointed out that the opposites attract but as you may have seen in your own lives, that is not a standard. We are usually deeply attracted to those who can reveal our true selves, the ones who dare living the way we don’t. Am I right? Think of it. The truth is though that we are much more alike than we admit. It’s just that the other person has the courage to do it or show it, as you have the courage to do or feel things, which for someone else, your partner, may be restricted or inconceivable to make it public knowledge.
     In this game of magnetic attractions, both parties win and lose. That’s the irony gentlemen. We chase the ultimate happiness, the one and only soul-mate, hoping that we won’t get hurt. What if we didn’t? Have you thought of that? What if it was that easy? What if the person you firstly fall in love with, feels the same way about you, no complications and no remorse? Do you think that there comes the ”happily ever after”? And if so, what then?
     I’ve got one fear, the deepest one and perhaps it is time to let you know it; I fear the day I will leave this world I will feel regrets because some day in my life I felt boredom, I wasn’t consumed. I wish that day never comes.
     There is a chance when you are born that you will know only pain in your life. But that, despite the fact that is a simple chance, that is the deepest fear of a caring parent. Growing up, we make our own fate based on the fears we overcome and at the end of the road, there is only one thing we should be saying: ” I lived and had it all. Misfortune, pain, happiness, pride and love. Now I shall have more of it in another life. ”

Dizziness.

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    We live in fear of admitting everything that ponders in our hearts. I gave my all to you and I am still wondering if my current denial comes as a consequence to all the drama we had. I find misinterpretations walking back and forward in my mind. An inner voice is still whispering words of love or pain. I cannot distinguish what dominates in me, whether I am free or locked in my own desperation. The nights of September have brought upon me a new sentimental crisis. It feels like a dizziness. I see my soul on its’ knees praying and I am wondering: for what? Am I praying for more consuming love or it’s just an immense desire for freedom?

     I live in fear because my dreams stopped challenging me. Everything is blurred and I blame myself for that. I am responsible for suffocating my heart. It has been long since nobody conquered me. I have always been emotionally occupied and it feels exhausting. Even now that I am not in love with someone, my soul is still chained. Do I need someone to break the chains? I wish I could do it myself.
     The insanity of these long nights have created a vacuum, a dark space between the past and the present. I do not want to tickle my heart’s chords, I want them to be left in piece, untouched. There is a battle taking place inside me but I cannot see the two parties fighting or the results of the war. No matter how hard I try to understand what is going on inside me I see nothing. In vain I struggle to control my demons. I will let them defeat each other. There is no other way.

Spring.

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     There are a lot of us who dream of kisses in the rain, cold winters next to the fireplace, long cups of boiling tea and his arm around your shoulder to warm you up. I’m not. I dream of spring blossoms and buds, sweaty nights, long dark roads, drunk people and his abundant laugh competing with the sound of the river waves.