The Days I Left in the Past

The slightest unrest rocks the boat. There should be no sign of emotions because emotions are strange, unknown, fierce things that we can’t quite understand. Relationship should be based on clarity: now we eat, now we sleep, now we… Anyway.

How do I contain the inner world full of bursts of energy, colours of the wildest range from fire to fire, emotions changing from joy to devastation within no time… How do I put all this in order to suit the fears of a man, his worst fears that he will not be able to understand me, care for me, love me and that he will ultimately lose me?

To contain the uncontainable; how do you bottle the wind, the stars, clouds in the sky? How do you preserve a butterfly so it is pinned on the board, framed, hung on the wall yet still alive? Can it be done? Can you ever take a bird, cut off the wings then admire its flight? What is there to admire on a dead bird?

Every now and then the same spark appears. This spark of emotional misunderstanding that takes people apart. Mine is to always yell the simple truth: a woman is a whirlwind of feelings. Don’t try to unwind them and hinge yourself onto one only. There is not one emotion in a woman that can be singled out, isolated and disconnected from a whole array of others.

Hinge yourself onto all of them. Be glad she shows them to you, for she is too wise to shower everyone with such intensity and beauty. Be prepared to open your heart a little, to allow love to step in. Be less of a warrior and more of a knight. Allow for time to set the scene, to bring you closer and firmer together.

Don’t run. She will not appreciate that. Don’t be a coward anyone can be. If she thinks you are special, you owe her the courage to discover why. Don’t be a simple nothing that will make her disappointed in her poor choice. Be a pillar of strength she can lean on.

It was never promised to be simple. Reading a woman’s mind is like reading a huge book whose pages were thorn apart and dropped on the ground, then hastily picked up with no order. You will get the middle of the story combined with some end and some beginning. But the pages will be true and it is your effort to put them in order that makes sense.

That moment you realise you were that lucky to have a woman who loves you – grab that moment and make it last. Sometimes a lifetime. Sometimes a minute that is worth a lifetime. Sometimes just a thought or a knowing is enough. Sometimes it can’t be. Still make it yours by holding that moment in your hand and in your heart as precious. If you are lucky, you may be loved again for the simple fact you tried before.

There was a day I doubted a lot; I wasn’t sure; I was eaten by my own insecurity. It was difficult to trust and to hope. Then the words arrived, plain, clean and simple. Words that said there is no other, there is only one space in his heart, there is only one me to occupy that space. That no matter what I do and how I feel, that space is mine and I am welcome to enter and own it, whichever way I want.

The pain of unpredictability of life entered the stage a little while after. Many things were up in the air and had crashed on the ground with a big, fat thud. Everything was lost in a day. Now, I’m reminded of how long was the route that love took to arrive, express itself and give us space to think and decide we belong. And how quick death took it away.

Recovered? No. Trusting again? Yes. Hope? Yes. For life is nothing but hope. Hope that love is looking out for us and giving us the beauty of its presence, freely, like the air we breathe. To that hope, I look forward every moment of my life. To what I have, I am eternally grateful.