Thank you for keeping me from falling again.

Ochtendgloren

Deze ochtend vond ik mezelf verpakt in dekens, omhuld door warmte. Mijn wekker ging al vijf uur nadat ik -eindelijk- in slaap was gevallen. Het gordijn hing nog open, want vannacht heb ik naar buiten zitten staren. En dat is allemaal jouw schuld.

XYZ

You can call me x, you can call me y, you can call me z, you can come and try.

Honestly, there aren’t two people in the entire world who are in love. Love is a thing full of anxious fears, of fake promises and real tears, phony sentiments and crushed feelings. The genuine emotion behind it lies not in the Hallmark card he sends you for Valentine’s Day, but in the tear-stained letter that sits on your bedside table for months, the one in which he tells you everything you’ve never wanted to hear. No one can put up with what being “in love” really entails, and so they fake it like they do. When one is in love, they begin by deceiving themselves, and end by tricking others. This is what the world calls a grand romance, “true love”, what we’re all supposedly searching for. No one wants to admit that the ‘love of their life’ is just the cutest guy that she feels safe with.

To love someone with your whole heart is to break it to pieces and hand it over, bit by bit. You slowly surrender your entire being, retreating inch by inch. You hand over the jagged edges, cutting you both, leaving the union soiled with blood and pain and tears. You’ll just be emptier, I’ve always thought. It’s common sense, really. And now I’m awake at five o’clock in the morning, gripping my Egyptian cotton sheets with a cold sheen of sweat drenching my body.

Half of my heart is in his hands, and I don’t want to give him the rest of it. So this is why I push him away, when things get too close of happening. Because I know who we are and how we are and if we cross that line one of us will end up bruised and broken and there’ll be nothing left to salvage. If we judge “love” by its results, you’re more likely to find hatred than friendship, and no matter how much I protest, I’ll never hate him. This strained thread, the hazardous link between us must remain intact, this alliance must never break.

- Confessions by Vanity

Nighttime

At night I like to lay in bed and listen to sad songs. Sometimes they just enhance my mood, making it even worse. Other nights, though, they cheer me up. Realizing there are people with far bigger problems than mine sooths me.

Yesterday I listened to Superchic[k] for an hour or so. The best sleep I’ve had in years.

stand in the rain
stand your ground
stand up when it’s all crashing down
you stand through the pain
you won’t drown
and one day what’s lost can be found
(Superchick – Stand in the rain)

Rooftops

Ik zou met je op een dak willen zitten in het midden van de stad. En dan zou de zon voor ons zakken, dan zou ze buigen alsof we de koninginnen van het heelal waren. We zouden een sigaretje delen en besluiten nooit groot te worden, nooit volwassen te zijn.

Feel like screaming

Promises

Dearest friend,

Reading you don’t feel like you are where you belong made me think. Where is it that we belong? I use ‘we’, because I know one thing for sure: I belong with you. That is a certainty no one is going to take away from me. You’re the only one powerful enough to totally break me down, to turn me back into the dust I once rose from.

But where exactly is it that we belong? It strikes me I’m not even able to answer that question. Sure, I can name I few places that feel right (Berlin, Dresden, our hometowns), but are these where our hearts are?

I know my heart is in good hands. Your hands. And that is a thought comforting enough – for now. Your hands, your arms, your heart: that’s where I belong. And I can promise you your heart can find no safer place than my hands to rest in. It’s a promise I won’t break, because if I do, I’ll also break your heart and that would break mine.

Just know you are safe and know you belong somewhere. Even if it is in my humble heart.

Just know that I love you.

Have faith.

Wrong direction

Yesterday, I caught myself in a difficult situation. The train was riding southwards, and the only direction I wanted to go to was north. It felt so wrong, yet I didn’t get off the train.

Tears were slowly rolling down my face as the train got fuller and busier. I knew my ticket could get asked anytime soon, so every tear I caught before it reached the end of my cheek. I saw a small boy staring at me, and it was like he understood my sadness. I guess he was about 6 years old, and I heard his mom talking to another passenger. She told the other woman she’d left her home country (Iraq) three years ago, leaving her husband and her beloved family behind. The new government didn’t allow her to be in the country, so she fled. She took her children (one girl, one boy), with her. The moment I heard that, I was sure this little man understood my pain.

Leaving the place you love the most breaks your heart. And then I realised my position wasn’t even that bad. At least I can return to my love any time I want to.

Ik zou je koesteren, zou je huid beetje bij beetje verkennen. Dan zou ik mijn weg door jouw hart banen, en iedere mijlpaal noteren.