These are not my words, but a song title. The one line I wake up with, the one line that puts me to sleep. Are you there? I’ve been asking for so many years that it’s impossible for you not to have heard it at least once. Yet, you never respond. And I so need you to, now more than ever as I’m reliving your tale. Are you there, my love, my ghost, my curse and my salvation?
Nothing good can come out when you mix Russian and Tartar blood. Always dither between rapture and torment, between bliss and anguish. Always follow the nomadic call, the continuous search, the restless urge of escape. And you’re not there anymore to temper this all, to hold the pieces together, to keep me warm and safe. Especially now, as I feel I become you in my own, self-destructive way. Damn blood in hollow veins…
“Need to learn to let it go.”
I wish I could burn that bridge, abandon that mental haven, the most deceiving of all. My reason says I won’t be sane again until I do. My primary instincts took their course. First I fought – and I did fight hard, denying every emotion and each connection. Then I took the flight, so fast I couldn’t see my traces, but yet your memory managed to hunt me down wherever I found shelter. In the end, I froze, like a blinded deer in the headlights, waiting to be hit and slaughtered; somehow, even praying for that as the end of all tortures. I’m out of instincts, what will there be next?
“Where are you when I need you…”
Where are you when life is really being a whore? As if your vivid image, and the constant amok, and the real-feel dreams weren’t all enough. Now I get to see you in my actions and my choices; and I realize I learned nothing from your failures, not to mention mine. Twisted and ironic, this is our history, together or apart. If only you were there, if only you were here… I beg you, be.
“Are you there?”
(22 iun 2018)
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