There is an intermediate phase that characterizes loss. There exist three types of loss and you would all wish to remain with the taste of the one mentioned in the very beginning. Firstly, we have the untamed loss, the painful and dreadful feeling that something is missing, the agony of losing one self too, the suffocation with one’s skin. I would never wish such a misfortune. There is also the liberating loss, the one that was truly necessary and amiable, the one that is rare to encounter but still less painful than the previous one. Most commonly we face the first type of loss.

Once your own skin is suffocating you and the knife on your chest is pulling your bones out, there is a significative probability that you might not be able to cry. In that moment, the pain is stored inside and as a consequence, the breathing process gets a lot harder. In that moment, say or think of something that your ego or the circumstances would not permit you to say; say “I love you”, “I’m sorry”, say whatever you hold back. The moment you liberate your mind from the things that you kept behind, the heart takes over and lets the pain spread.
My eyes became tearful in a few milliseconds. I blinked and the river flew harmonically off my eyes. The healing process had already began.   

Sinner old man.


     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.



    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.

”Do you love him? ”


The drunk man asked me this and I stood as still as a tree wondering…”Do you love him?”

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 sought just escaped my lips, such a sweet and perky sought! It’s tingling my heart; this image of a demi-verge 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 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…

On another 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 named yet 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.
After so many words, I’m letting you know, that at this very moment I feel a gap in my heart. It is like the earth, the soil, has broken up into two pieces letting an abyss of darkness in the middle. Do not ask me why I am feeling this way. I shall not answer.

Moments before closing your eyes.


     ”Because he is a beast; and every beast has his beauty.”
His words spread inside me like a wave of colourful shades and the smile on my face was no more hiding behind my sorrows. The sun has roused and the shapes of the clouds out of my bedroom’s window reminded me of wonderlands and magic beans. Of course happiness was floating in my air. The feeling was tickling my heart. I stood on my feet giggling; the brightness in my iris was reflecting itself into the glass of water in front of me.
     I read somewhere today that you know you are in love when you can feel someone’s pain if he is hurting. I do now. My soul knows him and every hidden thought of his, can be now predicted in most circumstances. I have seen him laughing and hurting in the past. It is a typical protection spell of his. Perhaps he is afraid of showing weakness. I am in no place of trying to guess or imply some relative reality that might fight against me; but I know he is in pain. Perhaps tomorrow he will be over it but I cannot forget about it now. It’s aching my skin above the fourth room of my heart, close to the nerve that gets straight to my mind -sometimes I find that as the spot where my soul lyes too – and all I can wish for is the moon taking his pain away. I am half smiling in remorse or rapture, all because I would be the happiest person if I was by his side now, wrapping my hands around him, kissing him, watching over him as he sleeps.
     There is a thought at the end of the tunnel in my mind, an inner voice whispering that perhaps I am over-thinking this matter now. Maybe I do. Maybe it is all just the pain of missing him.
     The moon is calling my name. She is waiting for me to travel among lands by her side.
”I miss you my love and the thought of you, illuminates my face, my body, my heart and all I can feel now, is the sweet desire to kiss your soft lips.”
Moments later my subconscious fades away into deep sleep.
     I see your dream. It resembles to mine.
The room is bright and it smells of fresh summer apples. I am wearing your shirt and admiring the view. The sky is filled with stars and the moon is once again our companion. You are watching me from behind and I smile because I imagine your eyes. You are approaching me, wrapping your hands around my belly and ask me to come inside. I smile approvingly and reach closer to your lips. The heat between us is always the same. A fire that is not going down. A few moments later; I am yours and you are mine.

Longest Night.


Holding thoughts, feelings, desires; it’s suffocating. It hurts; knowing that I can’t feel his arms around me hurts. I cry of happiness and sadness at the same time without knowing which emotion is dominating. My insides are hurting because they desire to see his sweet face, kiss his soft lips and lose myself into his mesmerising perfume. I wish I had him next to me now, loving me, watching him smile and kiss my tears away. I’m caught on that night, dreaming and dreaming about his body, his beautiful face; and the pain of him missing from me keeps torturing my heart. ”I panic at every thought of losing you and then I smile remembering your words, saying that you want only me; me, me ; and I’m getting drunk with these thoughts, having faith in us, in the future. 
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you my love. I miss you more than I have ever missed anyone. I miss touching you, kissing you, hugging you, and then I’m sad again and scared, for which life is not easy. But when I lose hope, you’re there, reminding me that everything is going to work out, and we’ll be together. Holding hands under the midnight stars.”
 I cross my fingers as a symbol of hope, wishing for your kisses to be my cover on cold nights; and then I count the stars where you are, asking them to take care of your dreams while I am gone…

Rambling at Midnight #Fiction



            But how can one forget? Has anyone told you it is easy? It is not. The wind blows your scent and I can feel you as I inhale deeply, running through my lungs and I wonder; what if you are the one giving me life? And it kills me not knowing the truth. Doubt has never been an easy visitor to my mind. It’s consuming. My heart is once more consumed by your aura. Being close to you makes it harder. Makes it harder to forget, and I repeat it to myself as I write these lines. Harder. And my body can feel the pain suffocating every vein, not letting my blood run freely. How can one forget? I ask myself once more in desperation. Nobody can. At least I can’t. I know my soul still desires to meet your eyes and my body still craves your touch. But most of all, my eyes would die to see your face standing in front of me. I know they would.

I’m here. I scream inside me to myself, hoping you can listen to my inner voice. But hope is the latest thing I can do now. I’m hopeless and for the first time I know I won’t see you. I’ve lost you and it seems eternity to me the day I’ll ever see your angelic face. Perhaps the infinite days that we counted were a lie and I say perhaps because I shall give strength to myself by keeping a flame alive. I shall remember the fire that burnt us because it gave warmth to my heart and light to my brain. My darkness has now your presence that illuminates it. But how can one forget? No one can. These are the moments I wish for the ability to erase the pain. I wish nothing but that. I want to be left with the memories and their bittersweet taste on my lips, but shall my soul be left alone as it’s too much destroyed to live another day in this hell. The hell you created when you made your way to my heart and forgot the path to get back from where you came. What if I could erase the pain that I keep in my heart for so much time? Would it be better? Would it make me a better person? I shall not care as this moment the pain is not only emotional, but physical too. So yes! I wish I could erase all of it and if you left with the pain, perhaps I’d let you. I need my freedom and you can give me only that cage. Which I hate, I hate, I hate; because it burns and the wound is so deep that no treatment can be found.

But how can one erase it all? Nobody can. The feeling is still there, stuck deeply in my heart and I really doubt if it’s only there. I am sure it has the power to take it all from me, soul and body, mind and spirit, and I’m homeless. You’ve left me homeless into my own home. How is that possible? It ain’t. I can clearly answer all my questions. I’m so in need for you, my love. The voice inside my hopeless head is still arguing with someone at the end of the tunnel but it’s dark in there and I can see nothing. I wish it was you but it ain’t. I sense there are only ashes there; perhaps my broken and burnt pieces.

The pain has moved from my stomach to my spline and now it’s aching my heart. The territory around my chest is in pain and little by little I feel it spread everywhere. Its’ exact location I can’t predict but it hurts so damn much.

I’ve denied it the past days to everyone, including myself. I’ve denied you. I’ve denied your existence in my heart but I can’t anymore. I shall finally admit, everyone to know, myself included, that you will never die inside me. This love shall always live and conquer me, no matter whose hands touch my body or whose heart loves mine. I know that I will never love you. I will always love someone else because ‘’love’’ is such a little thing when it comes to you. There are no words used by humans or others to explain how I feel about you; but I definitely know it’s not love. I will never love you. Perhaps I’ll live for you, as it is the most valuable thing I have, even if you don’t deserve it. You, my darling, you don’t deserve any of this; it’s no right to feel this way and I shall never mention love when it comes to you. The reason I’m in pain is your existence but you should know that without it I’d be lost. So, how can one live without you? No one can. You are the most painful thing in my life which keeps my heart beating and you’ll always illuminate the darkness inside me. Your darkness will be my darkness, somehow it will lighten my spirit, just like the dark moon gives light to the hot summer nights.

Part 28: Tough Day


           If I have to call it somehow, I’d call it humanity. If I had to feel it somehow, I’d feel it as pain. If I had to give it away, I wouldn’t. That’s what I can now assume after such an exhausting evening. I was only sitting on a chair, in the open air but I got so tired, I’ve never been. My body was fine. My mind though was a mess. After a long chat, looking into a person’s eyes and “reading” his story, I realised…I don’t know what I realised. The conclusion is unknown. I only wanted at the end of this day, to meet the person I care about, hug him and feel safety just for a few moments. Because I know, the days to come, are tougher. It didn’t happened  cause he couldn’t. I’m not mad, just weak. He didn’t know how I felt so I can reason with that. However I needed him. I still do. I finally can say, I was right. Everyone who tried to convince me I can’t love again was wrong. Everyone who tried to pull me out of this road, doesn’t know me at all.
         If I had to name my fear now, it would be the fear of someone’s feelings. Love is hate. Pain is destruction. Both pain and love burst into tears. They drawn us all and full fill the planet with a bitter-sweet kind of water nothing can survive. I’d made them gods. The god of love and the god of pain. They’d have been married. They’d have two children. Hope and Fear. They’d complete each other. In my mind, that’s how our souls are separated, into parts. Today, I felt all of them. I only needed someone by my side to overcome them…That’s not how it was supposed this day to end.

Part 18: The Actor Of Your Life


         You know they say tough people are the most sensible and emotional. I’m now convinced that’s true. Many of us, myself included, show others a harsh face, heartless. They show no weakness, no pity. That’s like an armour which protects us from abusers and queen-bees. However, those people, deep inside are those who suffer the most. Life has shown them mistakes are to be made and they haven’t lost a chance but to make them. Experience if what they get; good or bad. The sad thing is all these “cases” – including myself – are either hated or loved. Mostly hated because of the character they show but if you get to know them better you’ll observe they just chose another way to live. They chose not to let pain get above their happiness. They chose jokes above nerves. They chose laugh above tears.
          But…there is a “but”. When the time comes they erupt  They feel their body in pain, their mind lost, their heart broken but their face should always show the same soul less expression. Their eyes get filled with tears they hardly hide. If you can understand them you’ll notice. Revenge is something they desire mostly. Some of them on the people who hurt them and others on their own selves. Time is just meaningless when you hide every emotion and feeling. The mind gets dirty and their smile has always two meanings. Those people seem mysterious but in reality they are like an open book. It’s a conceptional thing. You’ve got to watch every move of theirs. You’ll see everything is planned and if it doesn’t it just makes sense.
           Every day, those people wake up thinking of their role. Life is just a stage in which they have to perform better and better every single time in order to success.