Living in a glassbowl…

           A sudden urge to cry has broken unto me. I don’t know why. The feelings that hid behind these unpronounced tears are faint. Just a moment ago I was listening to myself talking to a friend and saying “I am happy, perfectly happy”, yet I’m crying now with no apparent reason. What I hold now is a feeling that has been redefined and undefined since time immemorial. Now the feeling shackles me. Or feeling unfolds and I’m not ready for it. I am not made to sense it. Meaning, here I am. Is this what you are?

            To say that you are in love seems quite easy. As easy as falling after years of self-induced celibacy, it is but a whim suppressed by identity. And so, is it what it’s supposed to be? I dare not say yes. Desperation eager to be abandoned was never my art. I once thought that love was a new beginning, neither an end to an unwelcomed circumstance nor alternative for an internal vacuum. Until now that belief still stands. Love is a choice, a past revisited, a future pursued, an attempt. Pick a version and hope that it stays as luscious as it is…forever. Forever is the worst unknown of a person in love. I don’t want to dwell in it. Forever makes me feel empty like a kid searching for a myth, handed down but was never held by anybody’s hand. We spend time trying to preserve love to cheat on time and as we do it, time passes and love fades uncelebrated. Save me from this. Love is defeat from a person stronger than you are. A rival or a lover? It doesn’t matter when you’re drenched in betrayal and you welcome pain as life. And life has been great. Betrayal was mine. Love is an experience and being that makes it harder to encapsulate in just a single figure. In a sea of thoughts, it pays to place yours, but with love… you will always find a story, better than, similar to or contradicting what you hold. It is easier to own than define. Chaos…

Laughter. Fidelity. French fries. Kisses. Tests. Survival. Togetherness. Bond. You.

Me.

This morning I was dancing. Convulsions of me and these tears are one and hunted me. I needed to express and now I’m writing. In order to describe a moment I let myself be caught in and by words…and…TEARS. I only think of YOU as I write and cry.

To the ends of my senses, it flows like water through the glands of my eyes. I might not know how to put such feelings into words, I may never dare commit follies that fools would inherit, the world is full and it needs no cliché, more so I would not create duplicates… But… I  am feeling it now. Love through the receptive activity of this human body, I am feeling it now. Be damned you ubermensch who made me feel this. Didn’t you know that such sentiment could kill? Happiness is containable. Perfection is something I could attest to. But this? This thing that makes me cry and makes me want to feel more of you, this despair to soar beyond my limits, this good feeling… pushes me to the ends of my senses. For a moment I am not human, this feeling is non-existent to the world. Why would I define? It’s perfect. It’s mine.

…and now I can pour it out, like liquor for an untamed heart. Hear it once again… “I am happy, perfectly happy”. If the world needs to comprehend, let’s put it this way…

“I am in LOVE”….