When I was younger I read somewhere that if you ever feel as if you are about to throw up when you are with the person you love, or your legs cannot carry your weight anymore, he is not the one. The right one gives you peace and warms your heart, he never makes you anxious and turns your insides out. At that time, I couldn’t understand what it meant. I didn’t think twice about it, and years later, when I found myself falling for the first time, my love was so destructive and oh, I was weak, so weak that I could be bent by the soft breeze of May. He turned me into a lifeless machine, always wondering where he is, with whom, when I was going to hear from him. I was empty but I lied to myself, I kept telling myself I am so in love that it drained me of everything else. I would look at myself in the mirror, late and night, and not recognize my eyes anymore, but I kept going. I kept falling in that abyss, emptied of sounds, or light, with an increasing speed. I was moving in circles and my head was spinning, my hands were trembling. I loved him, truly; but he was so wrong for me, he desecrated the frail temple inside my ribs which I had been building for years, just like the wind shatters leaves in late October and shreds them to pieces. He blew over it and the house of cards fell to the ground. He never looked back to see the outcome of his devilish work, although my screams could be heard from the other side of the Sun in that cold day of January, when my soul, which suddenly turned a shade of gray with circles of rust all over it, was shattered on the concrete as I was desperately trying to make my numb feet walk again.
I fell again, twice, but for a short period of time. My love was quickly consumed and I was left with a vague perfume of something I had once hoped for, but never happened. I was sad at first, and my heart grew heavy on me, but each time I came to realise that it was whispering another name, and I had yet to find him, so I mistook him for them because I stumbled upon them.
Now, I have finally decrypted the code and his name falls naturally on my lips, as if it were made for them to say it, like a single-word prayer. Now, I have finally found meaning and each time my heart whispers his name, I am able to say it in sync with her. Everything I have ever felt fades away, it’s like I have just woken up and I found the meaning I was searching for so long. He gives me peace, his voice calms me down and silences my demons, my heartbeat synchs with his, without me doing anything. I have been falling asleep to his voice, for such a long time now, reaching out my left hand to where his is supposed to be and marking the spot with my fingers, tracing lines and shapes with my index and reshaping the world from my bed of one. When I close my eyes and think of him, I feel the wind blowing and caressing my arms, my chin and stroking my hair, and I know it was sent by him. It’s like he is everywhere but nowhere to be seen. I feel him in the trail of light that travels millions of years and in the first rays of sunshine that touch my wrists in the morning, warming my veins and creating a new map every time I move my arm. I feel him when I run on the bridges in the city and I feel the heat rising up and taking over me, I bathe in the sunlight until I count to 3, as if he were touching my neck for a brief second, and then retreating his hand. I feel him when it rains and I’m sitting at my window, looking out and counting the rain drops while people hurry with their umbrellas, too busy to notice how the earth smells, and how the shadows of the past rise and walk with them, under their umbrellas, gently touching but not being touched. I feel him at night when I am lying in my bed and I draw the map of his body although I cannot see him, I draw him and then settle in between the curves of his body of smoke, glued to him in all the right places.
It’s like his voice, his laugh echoes from the other side of the world and it’s carried over by the waves together with the wind and it travels with a speed of a 1000 kilometres per hour. It’s like there’s this chord that begins somewhere deep in my ribs and it covers the whole Universe, revolving around it for 77 times and a half, and the end always points at him, wherever it may be, wherever he may be. It resembles a compass, always moving, always pointing to the North of my heart, and it will never slow down, it will never lose the race with time. Someday, when this chord, when this string will point to a city found at 129° E and I will start following the path, I will raise my eyes and he will be there, at the end of the bridge, looking at me, and I will suddenly be at home.
It has never been simpler than this: I love him, my heart is tied to his and I never felt so close to the particles, to the atoms that make up everything, myself included. I look at the world and I see all its colours, its shades and shadows, I see people and their sorrows, I listen to their heartbeats and touch their cheeks when they doze off. I look over the river whenever I feel that I haven’t visited it for a long time, I caress the sea with my small hands and I love him, he’s the centre of my world and everything moves along with that. Spring has come and the string is pointing to the left, I take my bag and start putting one leg in front of the other. I look up and I see that the sky is pink as the cherry trees, this means the wind will be by my side soon. There’s this road ahead of me, I think it’s the right one, I have the morning star on my right side and as I am advancing, she runs towards me and when she’s tired I reach and hold her in my pocket and watch over her sleep. I walk and walk, I will get there until the spring ends, or maybe in the beginning of fall.
I look around me and I know I can paint the sky from today’s morning, and from yesterday as well, I know I love and I am loved, I know that our souls will meet each other one day, because they both have the same hiding place, it’s just that I’ve woken up earlier and the Sun hasn’t risen yet where he is, here the dew covers the grass and the air is thick, impregnated with the smell of all the forget-me-nots. I stop and marvel at the sea of blue until my eyes turn a shade lighter and my skin smells of them, I take one with me and put it behind me ear. I know my feet will get tired, and so will my back, but I will find my way, I’ll walk on the top of the sky and then get back on earth, I’ll fly on the tail of a comet for a few days and then swim on the back of the Moon. I know I have found my voice and although it’s cracked I will shout across the sea until it reaches the edge of the world and echoes back, until it reaches him and he meets me on the road, a forget-me-not in his hand, our blue souls in between us, dragging our feet closer and closer, until there’s no me and him, there’s us, there’s one.
‘’Forget-me-not’’, I said a million lifetimes ago, and you never have.