When you're gone...
Autor: Fleur Angélique Des Champs D'Arcadie | Publicado: 2015-02-10T04:24:00-02:00

Dear Wolf-cub, "The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing", said Blaise Pascal. Personally, I believe there's no better sentence to describe how dumb we get, once we're in love - we think, believe in and do the most unbelievable things for/in the name of love. Most of us act totally out of character, as if in a (stupid) trance, waiting for the time in which we'll wake up to the life we've always dreamed of, side by side with the love of our lives...  Unless, of course, you wake up for good, only to find out that "the dream" was just a dream - life goes on, with your empty bed, cold feet, uneventful schedules... And a looooooong list of plans and projects buried under your pillow.  ~ ~ ~ *deeeeeeeeep sigh* ~ ~ ~ You spend your childhood with your nose buried in books, your mind set on happy-endings and your little heart filled with expectations; unconsciously, you try to make sense out of expressions like "true love", "soul mate" and "life partner", turning them into part of your future plans... And in the end, they still manage to sound just as ethereal and inconsistent as the fairytales that "produced" them.  Life and your entire body, with its confusing fluids, substances, hormones and neurons seem to prepare you only for the "happy-ending", as if finding what you're looking for were your only problem...  I hope your choice can make you happy at once. That you can be blessed with a horrible memory, something I've been praying for, to no avail... But, in case you've been asking yourself how I'm doing...(pfff, as if...!) Well, I'm painting my bedroom walls and working on a illumination project to go with it, based on the concept of the "bottle trees" from Louisiana; I'm doodling everyday, at every opportunity I get; I'm working out, trying food I swore I'd never eat, letting my hair grow, doing my nails every week (and that includes clipping them rigorously, getting rid of one of my most remarkable traits), tying my hair with a ribbon again (once a week, it's yellow), wearing skirts, working hard and saving each and every penny for a hitch-hiking trip across Europe and a 2-month stay in Scotland... I've restored my relationship with an old and much beloved American friend, whom I hadn't talked to since he did something that scared the shit out of me (you'd understand, if only you cared to know). We've been talking everyday ever since, and it's like we were back in 2004, at Bard Coffee, kicking each other under the table, wasting our money on expensive coffee, avoiding eye contact because a mere glance would be enough to make us laugh at each other like a pair of fools, trying to guess how our life would be, ten years from then (we were both right about each other) and planning on living somewhere in Europe where the air smelled like wet soil and smashed leaves after rain - our favourite smell...! I've been fighting the thoughts of my favourite cousin dying in Israel, and I feel that it kind of kills me a little, day by day. Whenever he sends me a text, the wound heals for a few hours, until I remember where he is again... I'm trying to get myself prepared for the worst. Maybe if I get used to the pain now, it won't feel so bad when the bad news come - something I should have done right after I started talking to you. Yet... I'm still singing and listening to my favourite songs, watching my favourite films and TV shows, dining pizza and beer once a week, trying different pasta and pancake recipes, having lunch with a few friends... The only difference is that I've been talking to random men, regularly - mostly friends of my friends, who've been eager to introduce me to "promising bachelors", "the cutest guys you'll ever see", "really nice fellas", "hard-working and respectful lads" and other men who "well, at least aren't heartless, fucked up American military bastards".&nbsp;
I'm doing great, really!
Apart from the moments when I stop to contemplate the huge, empty hole you've left in my heart...
Apart from when I wake up from a nightmare and miss having you online to talk to me, ask me what the nightmare was about or just tell a story about yourself and/or your own nightmares...
Apart from the times when I watch TV or read a book and see something about war, soldiers, ASL, Doctor Who, Stargate, jazz, bears, wolves, coffee, the colour brown, people trying to quit smoking, PTSD, boyfriends sending flowers to their sweethearts, long-distance relationships, German Shepherds... And a lot more that inevitably reminds me of you.

Men try to strike up a nice conversation, maybe flirt with me... But none of them has colourful eyes. Eyes that I know and can read, even being so far away... And none of them is half as honest as "someone I know". None of them pays attention to me with kind selflessness, maybe a smirk (a hidden joke or a story, perhaps?), as if there was nothing better to do other than listening to me...

Well, apart from all that... I'm fine, thank you very much.

I wish I could smile at the idea of you being "gone", but unfortunately, not even now I feel like lying to you...

I've got amazing friends - a bunch of clowns who make me laugh my ass off at the most prosaic things; people who stand by me, even at my worst, and who always have kind words and a warm hug to soften the hardest moments I could possibly go through...

... But still, my heart it's empty.
And that's how it'll be for a long, long, loooooooong time - I know.

When are you going to understand that feelings really matter, maybe more than mere physical contact...?

If once I felt like waiting, now I just gave up.
"I'm broken", you said.
Waiting for you to fix yourself may be the most foolish mistake someone could ever commit...

If only hope could leave me at once...

Well, anyway, I hope you can find comfort to your tormented soul, someday.
The comfort I offered, and you refused to accept.

Best regards,

Lady Dragon