Seasons Change

It is not easy when the road is not closed, you miss everything you still haven’t got and all you see is all the possible futures ahead. The present is all you ever wanted in its safeness and all that you should ever live for. But I dream and dreaming is not as easy as it seems when you, like me, want to accomplish all of your dreams.

When I dream of you I am awake and my daydreams take place at non-specific times foreseeing never existing moments that shouldn’t cross a peaceful mind. Like your hand in mine before letting go and that serene moment in some quiet field where only the setting sun would be able to bear witness to the most life changing look someone could ever imagine. Your face changes like the seasons and I still can’t decide what my favourite is and the one that could make me happier, even if I never commit to any season or to any face other than my own.

No one expects anything from me but me, the one who expects everything and wants all there can possibly be. You paint a picture in black and white and I see millions of colours, endless possibilities and opportunities, all of them only dreams. Or maybe it’s my black and white vision that distorts your countless colours not allowing me to realize that all you dream is possible if you try.

There’s so much in you, so much to see. There’s so much in me, the many things that I dream, of you, of me, of the world and us and everyone in it. How everything could be so much better even if not perfect, all the dreams we could dream together. Endless dialogues about life and its ever changing motions. Recalls of frames of moments that I keep in my mind and that reside in my heart. I might not remember everything quite as vividly as I say. But I remember you… And I remember myself… And all of us. Those memories I’ll always keep. Even if they are fictional and present only in my dreams.

http://whole-heartingly.deviantart.com/art/shine-112828039?q=boost%3Apopular%20in%3Aphotography%20possibility&qo=47

It's natural to be afraid

               Oh dear,

please say that we don't grow up so fast that our legs become too short for the steps we want to take. I'm looking for some kind of confirmation to the fact that life would be much easier if that growing up thing would have ceased in the moment when I saw that I would never again grow taller than my height.

But the concept of growing up is as wide as the path ahead of me is long and I'm tired by nature and would rather sit here and contemplate on concepts than take that next step. It all is so unsure and unknown when I look ahead. The road is uncertain and foggy when you don't want to sacrifice the ideal of staying forever young.

                       Tell me I don't have an expiration date, that there is no due time for me to carry on.
Assure me that the only obligation I have is getting up every day to go to classes in which I will misuse all my knowledge and waste all my intellect in pursuit of a better future.


             Say that I have you forever,
                                                       to tell me what's right from wrong in your unawareness, so youthful as mine with the virtue of not being at a crossroads where the only path you can't follow is the one that already took you there.

                                        Just say we will stay the same, here, in the present that won't give in to a future or be a past... Here, forever.

Psyche

I swear it is just like a light switch. The idea of you comes along and an instant and almost irrational wish to talk to you comes along to tell me that I miss you too much. It is as if I would be talking to a self that I left behind somewhere, different from me, as our times are different, but still too familiar not to feel as if something, someone, of my own. As if I had ever owned anything.

It is a kind a love even though no one else needs to know. It’s the love I should have for myself, it’s the love I have for all that I cannot truly have, it’s the love for the unknown, the love that I never knew how to feel, the love that bears no fruits, the love for the sake of love that means nothing at all to everyone but the one who feels it. It’s a love that’s not really love, a love that is there not to be felt but just to exist. Like a universal truth and a paradox when it comes to be felt. It embarrasses me for its intensity whilst it seems to lack any basis for a real existence. It makes me smile as if I’d found some lost piece of me though I feel like crying when I conclude that even though a piece was found, it’s not meant to be put together.

And I’ve cried over it though unknowingly. I’ve cried as I ran away from goodbyes, I’ve cried as I smiled for I’d never felt so happy and sad at the same time, I’ve cried in that fraction of a second between having you to hold and seeing you walk away, I’ve cried as if the moment in which I discovered who I was had came around again and, right then and there, I was 21 and the Summer had come to tell me it would all be ok.

But summers haven’t been the same in quite a while, not since the Winter came along and brought me those I can’t forget. Nothing has felt quite the same and though I miss nothing I miss everything, including myself with you, through Winters, Mid-Summers and the unbearable heat. I can still see you smiling if I look behind. I can still hear you laugh; I can still feel you as if I could actually touch you if only I took a couple of steps. I still struggle to understand why I questioned you when you did the unexpected things that I actually wished for. I still struggle to understand my social incompetence, my inability to behave, my harsh comments, my care for everything and anything, my attention to detail and the way I can be so sensitive to stupid stuff. And also all that you do, which is this and more. A vivid memory that I never want to forget, the thought of you comes along accordingly.

One day I found myself and after getting to know that stranger, ever so slightly, once I got to see that apparent differences actually mean nothing next to all that is so akin, I couldn’t stop my smile as I said: Pleasure to meet you.