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Posted: https://livelovesmilee.wordpress.com/2014/06/22/do-you-love-him/

Original post (uncensored):

          Dear stranger,
I do not. Perhaps what I am saying seems a little, or a lot, nonsensical but you asked for my sincere answer and you should know that a sincere answer is what I am giving to you. I do not love him. I find it easy to admit or agree to such a thing and the reason why is simpler than you could ever percept. Whatever this feeling that cursed me is, it goes deeper than love. Since humans haven’t found a word for that yet or we may never find, I won’t let myself indulged into its’ charm. For love I have felt and it was not like this. It was indeed powerful, every emotion was triggered by it, but now, now it’s more than that. Now, the infinity of my feelings transfixes my body and has turned my feelings into a hunting warren. A warren of desire, seduction, empathy, vivacious feelings, feelings that if you ask me; I could even live for as eternity lies at dawn.
Maybe I should let you know, hoping you would understand my questioning this ”love” you want to name, that I have become a feathery person, sometimes even feeble. I am asking you please not to judge me or try to convince me that I should reconsider my statements, all because I will not. I am not gloomy. Do not ever understand that. I am as flippant as the hays of the sun on the sunup. You should see my expression now. A sough just escaped my lips, such a sweet and perky sough! It’s tingling my heart; this image of a demi-vierge person who craves for me as I crave for him every night. This rapture or cannibalistic need of flesh, which many of us may not understand, it’s provoking me a deep sensation of amour. I do not say love dear stranger. Mark that. I am biting my lower lip at the very moment and the hotness in the air has made my skin sweat. My humid lips have a salty taste of sweat. The hot breeze, the closed window, the feeble night, they all remind me of him. They all make me crave him even more, even sweeter. How can I make it understandable to you dear stranger?
In a parallel reality, where he exists only for me, or we might say that he is here for me, he touches my lower lip, undressing it from its’ salty taste with his own big softy lips. I fear writing to you the rest of the details so if you wish you can stop reading. If not, well…read on.

     I have a need to reprint into words the dream that fed my desire two nights ago. I was intrigued dreaming the same thing twice in one night. Perhaps, or as someone today implied, it was either my fear or desire, that broke the chains to dreaming wetly. Yes, dear stranger, wetly.

     In a former letter I have described you the expression on his face, of my saturnine man of course, but I omitted the erotic details. Those are that I am thinking about though. As I said, passion and rapture feed my dreams. His hand ran into me. As you see it, into me. Filling me completely. And oh! I would be called a liar if I didn’t admit that I loved it. More importantly, I felt it. My dream felt more real than any other dream. I am embarrassed admitting such a thing, or concerned of my own burning desires. However, I should tell. It was more than one sensation. My body was flooded. I felt like an ocean which couldn’t support any more water. Close to every imagination I have had, this dream pulled me to the edge, as all I have been thinking about the last forty eight hours is that.

     On a third long parallel line, runs my heart competing to all the above or helping them get to infinity. I do not know what it actually does but I feel it running. It has become a beast, a warrior among cyclops. I shall not lie, I do feel deep feelings for him. As I said at the beginning, it is all about some other inexplicable feeling that has not been yet named because there is no greater than that. Writing the last sentence, perhaps I stupefy my own self for writing about ‘love’ as the greatest of all, but you should know, I am not. All I want you to do is understand the difference.

     If I was a bird, closed into a roost, perhaps he would be my branch. In other words, he would be the freedom I have gained for myself. In even more words, he would be the one thanks to whom I have set my wings free to live without perks or boundaries, waking up every morning, setting my self to sleep, all with the knowledge of something greater than what we already know. Perhaps, life is all about that dear stranger. Perhaps not. You should not indulge into my thoughts, just listen and understand them.
As I said, I do not seek my cage anymore.”

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Sinner old man.

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     There were not necessary many gestures to get my eyes filled with tears. My grandfather’s arm on my shoulder was enough. Not many words either. Just his saying that I will always have him.
     I always saw my grandpa as a sinner. I did not know any of his sins but that’s what I saw in him. Through his sins, I would also see his affection and love. As a man born in the 50’s, he was not the kind to share his  feelings openly. He did it differently, as if he was ashamed of them or me.
     When I was a little girl, he used to come and take me for long walks. He made me see the world from a different level; 2 meters height to be more specific. My legs would play freely around his neck, my fingers would twist though his hair and my eyes would not stop sparkling. He carried me on his shoulders from the mountains to my grandma’s house. He was proud of his first born niece. Two years after, he used to pick me up from school. I would climb the hill to home with him and our discussions would be nothing but childish. Even back then, I used to see him as a sinner but his sins loved me. Not long after that time, he got sick and I lost him for ten years. To be honest, I do not recall a lot of moments with him those years. I have one image though that I cannot forget. It was at the beginning of his worsts and as his illness hadn’t been defined by any doctor, we defined it ourselves. Even now, we live by the same theory; psychical exhaustion. As I was saying, I remember him making sounds of different animals; snakes, frogs, the perfect imitation. His eyes were turbulent. It was dark outside and the room had been filled with his growling. My grandmother had gone to call the priest, my little aunt was standing as still as a tree and her face had all shades of yellow. My older aunt was sitting on her knees in front of him, crying and praying. I was in the corner of the room, tantalizing my eyes from my grandfather to my crying aunt. I would never forget those few minutes; neither my aunt’s tears nor my grandpa’s sounds. I also remember that when the priest stepped in, his condition got worse. I do not recall the next hours or days. I grew up visiting them in summer. His stare would not leave the noisy black box and his body won’t get out of the house. That’s how he lived until 2010 when my grandma called, saying that her husband went to the city and he wants to come to visit us. No word about those ten years had been said to him.
     Today, he came after me on the streets as I was talking a short walk. I saw that profound affection for me through his kind touch and still, his sins love me.

Moments of hesitation.

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     A dear woman once told me that you can’t be with a person that involuntarily stops you from dreaming and she was right.  The surface of the table was rough and he was moving his fingers towards it. My eyes got lost by the movement of his hand but my thoughts were insanely corrupting me. His eyes were staring at mine, impatiently, like he was expecting the next twisting of my lips or the next ‘I love you!’. But I said nothing; Even if his soul begged me to explain myself and my heart was desperately wanting, my mind’s power was too intense and authoritative. I did the only thing that I could do in that moment. I took his hand into mine and smiled. Even at the moment I cannot decide whether that curve that my lips formed was real or just an obligation.
     My thoughts scared me or maybe my past experiences. I was afraid of us. I am still afraid of the routine. More than that, I saw myself on my knees in his behalf and my dreams or usual activities being left aside. Somehow my heart blamed him. In a way, history is repeating itself and that dries my soul.

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?

New Perspective.

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   ”Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.” – The Fault in our Stars

     That’s what impressed me today. That is what I will remember from the 7th of September. That and the night’s breeze. The empty streets. The moon and the stars. No soul would bother the noisy silence. I walked alone home and I felt a particular kind of fear pondering in my veins. There was no fear of darkness. I was scared of the world, the people who wondered freely and arrogantly on the sidewalks. I know I must not look back. That was the arcanum.
     As I was approaching the entrance of my apartment I felt the fear fading away. However, something else happened. Surprisingly, my emotional state changed and the burden would not get away from my heart. This time though, it was pain. It may sound surprising but I am relieved for having my pain back. I do not know if I should worry for my non-expected happiness for a bitter sentiment, but I must admit, it gives me a purpose. I can feel again the gap in my soul and now I know, better than ever, that I should find a way to fulfill it again. Perhaps that was it! That’s what I needed. A new purpose.
     Now I am thinking; maybe that is what we all need and that also answers a question which many of us have been asking the universe. Why life should have ups and downs? Is it suffering and struggling necessary for the human kind?
     There is a writer I deeply admire who claims that humans are the most unhappy animals. When I first read that phrase I did not give it much thought. He was right though.
      So I have to deliberate on that even if you don’t want to hear it. We need bitterness and obstacles in order to achieve greatness. We might be the most unhappy of all animals but except that, as the same writer claims, the human kind has the ability to create majestic and unimaginably things. We just need a purpose. 
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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.

Inspiration…Lost?

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There it was my inspiration swinging like a flake before my eyes. I could see it but I could not touch it. My mind evoked a breeze, a hopeless wind that pushed it away, ravished it on the ground. But my inspiration would not let go. The gravity was not powerful enough to overtake its’ strength. My flake was floating helpless but still alive. For a moment there was no time. It was just a thin shadow in the air that was standing still, waiting for me to unlock the door of my mind. But I couldn’t. Even if I desired to diminish that door, I couldn’t. It was something more than I could conceive or accept. I feared a shadow had control over my subconscious. Perhaps that was it. Someone or something that controlled my emotions.
Unfortunately I figured it out. I was controlled by my own desperate thoughts. I wished I could go back to my dream. I wished for that silence that overwhelmed me.
The midday sun hays blurred my thoughts. Why?

Lightning moon.

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     In the misfortune of summer I found an abyss in your heart. The soil wasn’t dry anymore. My soul wasn’t wounded. I gasp on the thought and continue pursuing my goal as your love is a motivation for my dreams. In the mist of August I found the lost child in me. In the still of the night I found your pure eyes shining bright and conquering my heart. Electric blues and radiant violets. You were that. You are that. You are an electric blue shadow of happiness and pain. In moments of unawareness, I panic on the thought of losing you. I stutter your name. Then I fill my lungs with the memories you gave me and hope rises like the sun at dawn. I misinterpret the dreams and tire myself with worries. Minutes after I smile. I am wondering how can you make me such an unstable person. You change me. 
     In the cold of winter I missed your body. I thrilled for your warm blood. I was craving for your soul. Now that the breeze of June is flirting with the cells of my skin, I feel an intense desire to kiss your lips. I dream of your colours. I dream of your electric blues and radiant violets. 
     The night is a friend again. I am hugged and lucky to be accompanied by such a beauty. It whispers me that you hug your pillow and turn on the left side of your bed. I am told that you are dreaming of waves and exotic places. I am delighted of the stories. People can be thrilling creatures when their subconscious runs wild. 

#Seduced. Again.# -Fragment-

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     ”It’s been long since my heart pounded of thirst. Three years ago I was starving for love. He was just in front of me and every flickering of my eyes met his intense look. I didn’t really know what love meant. I had a veg idea, clouded and polluted by what I’ve been told. My knowledge was poor and my mind, too immature to understand. I just knew my stomach felt something, like a magic powder giggling my insides. I had already started hating the feeling. That’s when my pain got more intense. It burst in me like a heavy rain that wouldn’t stop. My skin got wet and my veins burnt of the lightening. My mind was no more quiet. I woke up someone who had been sleeping inside me for ages. My inner queen stretched her body and sat on the steel marvelous throne. Her reign is still conquering me. Her voice is always soft but at the same time, it’s harsh. She’s the only one who knows my deepest thoughts and desires. I really feel naked in front of her and my fear is endless. A queen who knows her submissive so well is a queen who can kill.

   Desperation was the only thing that I could feel. I wanted so badly to get to know him. Nobody had ever woken up my ‘’Columbian’’ desire. Despite all this, I knew he wouldn’t open himself up to me. I meant nothing to his thoughts. I was a stranger to his heart. 

     The dream was pulling me to the edge of my sanity. It was something between pain and happiness. He was just the way I wanted him to be, perfect. My subconscious was playing an unfair game. In reality, all I was dreaming about was all I wanted to happen. It kept me happy in a way. Sometimes I think it was the only thing that kept me from flipping the coin and becoming someone I hated to be. I was in some kind of depression, which unfortunately lasted a long time. I slipped from one disappointment to another and I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t have this permanent feeling of someone ripping my heart off.

     My veins burn through me and my body needs his touch. The molecules of my skin are tightening and it’s getting hard to breath. I feel a nod in my stomach, running up to my lungs making my mouth watery. Every inch of my body, all my insides are aroused for this man.
I was thinking all day about him and time is my complicit to my mission. He consumes me in a breathtaking way and at the same time he gives me the internal energy to live.
       He is just difficult to handle. His reaction is always unexpected and his way of pushing me away is just keeping me closer. I can’t erase the exuberating look on his face from last time I saw him. He has such a power of spirit on me that I can’t imagine myself without all those memories.”