Once, after parting ways, still lingering in the remnants of a fading love…
Nurturing glimpses of magical memories, like the warm glow of the last sunrays in September…
Riding the waves of sensations, over and over again, basking in fragments of sensual touch…
Allowing the stream of endless “we,” “together,” “tomorrow,” and “will be” to flow through our consciousness…
Once, fully aware that this is the end, we don’t want to erase the last traces of breath on the glass — the breath of this love…
We understand that if we don’t put a definitive end, we will feel the pain of loss and the bitterness of a happiness that has passed away, over and over again.
This ending is not an act of killing. With this period, we allow our hearts to release what is already gone into the bright realm of memory. That which can’t be brought back. That which lives like the unfortunate Mr. Waldemar, a dreadful mummy sustaining a suspiciously magnetic life through the medium’s endless returns to the tiny wound that refuses to heal.
It is necessary to put a period. And HE is not involved here. HE will have his own ending and his own punctuation for this Love. Let’s not disturb him. Let’s not aggravate someone else’s wounds. Let’s not inflict more pain than has already been given.
To put a period. To say to ourselves (to HIM), “Goodbye, my love! Forgive me as I have forgiven. And I forgive. I release you. I will be happy with you or without you. Because I LOVE YOU! I love you…”
After all, we know that we will always love everyone who has touched our hearts. And even if the second heart was cold. To each their own.
Simply to warm our own hearts, to prevent them from freezing, to avoid letting them get lost in the abyss of meaningless suffering, we need to once gather the courage and tell ourselves that NOW EVERYTHING IS IN THE PAST. Find the strength within ourselves to release the bird fluttering in our hands, wave goodbye to it. And move forward. Towards a new life. In which there will be a new love.
