How have you been? – they ask me. Are you feeling better – they ask me? Why can’t you do this/that? – they ask me. I am getting slightly fed up with the questions. Just for a change, I would not mind to get some answers.
Can anybody define love for me, please? Every year, every month, every day my view of the matter changes. When I was little I thought that the only love that exists is my love to music. I could listen and listen and listen. I still do, of course. Then poetry joined in along with the books. And that’s how it’s been for quite a while. Then there was a Friend. And that was the first human being with bones and flesh and touch. And it was a shocking experience. Love back then was defined by a telephone call at two o’clock in the morning and this three times older than me voice saying: have you been studying? And the hugs. I was fourteen when I was hugged for the first time by someone who didn’t want anything in exchange. And there were wise words. Not in a book, in the song but said to me. Pronounced slowly so I could understand. And that also was when I learnt that nothing lasts forever. Because the Angel went Home. And took my wings (the same ones that he presented to me earlier) with him. The only thing I had left were scars. That was when I was thinking a lot about: “Is it better to love and lost or never find out what love means?”. Now I know. Back then – I didn’t. I decided never to love again and became a stone. Or a veg rather. Till I was walking down the street in my town and suddenly saw these eyes staring at me. And that was my first time when I found out about the Adult Love. Adult Love was defined by a gold ring and wedding bells and by the divorce. And it turned out I was not an adult at all. He was. He could be my grandpa if he wanted. But I did not want a grandpa. I wanted his blue eyes and a cheeky smile. And I wanted him to be my teacher, not a traitor. So I ran away. I used to do it quite often so that wasn’t anything new. Now... Now love is defined by not knowing. There is somebody by my side. Not knowing is a part of existence, I guess. Love is part of relationship. I guess. Relationship is... Cooking, washing up, going to work, cuddling, kissing, having sex. If that so, why am I jealous if I hear him whispering this girl’s name while he's asleep? Funny thing – I can see his dreams, whether I want it or not. In these dreams, in the future – that’s not me he is seeing. That’s what defines not knowing. So here I am again, on some kind of crossroad, wondering what the best thing to do would be. I don’t want to go anywhere. But I will, if that’s what it requires.
My Mummy writes the most beautiful lyrics in the world and her latest album is sacred. Full stop. I love her. Yes, that is Love. There you go...
Can anybody define love for me, please? Every year, every month, every day my view of the matter changes. When I was little I thought that the only love that exists is my love to music. I could listen and listen and listen. I still do, of course. Then poetry joined in along with the books. And that’s how it’s been for quite a while. Then there was a Friend. And that was the first human being with bones and flesh and touch. And it was a shocking experience. Love back then was defined by a telephone call at two o’clock in the morning and this three times older than me voice saying: have you been studying? And the hugs. I was fourteen when I was hugged for the first time by someone who didn’t want anything in exchange. And there were wise words. Not in a book, in the song but said to me. Pronounced slowly so I could understand. And that also was when I learnt that nothing lasts forever. Because the Angel went Home. And took my wings (the same ones that he presented to me earlier) with him. The only thing I had left were scars. That was when I was thinking a lot about: “Is it better to love and lost or never find out what love means?”. Now I know. Back then – I didn’t. I decided never to love again and became a stone. Or a veg rather. Till I was walking down the street in my town and suddenly saw these eyes staring at me. And that was my first time when I found out about the Adult Love. Adult Love was defined by a gold ring and wedding bells and by the divorce. And it turned out I was not an adult at all. He was. He could be my grandpa if he wanted. But I did not want a grandpa. I wanted his blue eyes and a cheeky smile. And I wanted him to be my teacher, not a traitor. So I ran away. I used to do it quite often so that wasn’t anything new. Now... Now love is defined by not knowing. There is somebody by my side. Not knowing is a part of existence, I guess. Love is part of relationship. I guess. Relationship is... Cooking, washing up, going to work, cuddling, kissing, having sex. If that so, why am I jealous if I hear him whispering this girl’s name while he's asleep? Funny thing – I can see his dreams, whether I want it or not. In these dreams, in the future – that’s not me he is seeing. That’s what defines not knowing. So here I am again, on some kind of crossroad, wondering what the best thing to do would be. I don’t want to go anywhere. But I will, if that’s what it requires.
My Mummy writes the most beautiful lyrics in the world and her latest album is sacred. Full stop. I love her. Yes, that is Love. There you go...
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