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2014/07/25

Love you never lose...


Love you never lose ... Even if she does not want you. Although she lives her fears. Even if you think of anything else. Even if you leave off without saying anything ... 
When you love you never stop loving. It is always a trace. A trail. A word. What then over time become tenderness and complicity ... 
So why even today this jerk? Why the sudden urge to stay there forever? So ... suddenly ... like a storm in the middle of August ... 
It's not easy to leave and go back, change language, quickly close a door to open another, only an illusion, a door open for her will remain forever. Hope or maybe you want to, or do not want, you want to stay but you have to leave. Do not just hop on a plane and fly away to delete everything and act as if nothing had happened ... it happened, I fell in love and I can not pretend nothing has happened, she is always there, before my eyes, like a sun beam or a star which shows me the way. I can not avoid, I can not pretend that there was nothing. The mind says to forget but the heart does not listen and continues on his way. 

I woke up again in France. It could have been completely different instead wrong. But now I'm still here, portrays of two worlds and two passions, split in two, as if everything is possible, as if it were enough to close your eyes to find the moment of grace before they go away forever ...

Do not just take the plane to clear everything and act as if nothing had happened ... It's not enough. Because if something happened once it happened forever; and is no longer in my power to push back her in anything, or "as if it had never been." And yet I can reconsider it, watch it (or rewatch it) in a different light, the light of how I am "now", which is a light different from that I was or we were at the time. This doesn't mean that watching it in a different light doesn't make me suffer any more, but it will be a pain differently, because "understands" that already lived, so much so that even more of us are the same, even if we delude ourselves to "be still here."

This distance hurts me, makes me suffer, like the silence. Each raindrop is a tear of happiness to have known you, but also of sadness for not being there with you.

(The Garden of Secrets - Kate Morton)


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