I have this vision, that I would finally come & find you. Scattered pieces of distance would not stand in my way. Not needing words; the barest of glimpses would suffice for you & me. (Sic, Kafka from letters to milena)
Life, I do not want to complain about you, or complain to you. I only want to say this : I'm still in love with you.
But I was a fool, enough ignorant to live one place. So now, in my heart, I feel orphan, homeless, as in a succession of shelters where I don't feel I belong at all. Never will.
Sometimes I look at you, like a poor child looks at a sweet shop full of treats, smelling and imagining all the goodness in the store but never able to quite savour the real experience.
This feeling of lack of unnecessary, for there is much love in the world, to give & recieve, to win& loose, to conquer & surrender to... But one doesn't want to try have all the people in the world, and still feel lonely without the one.
What a misery, a paradox, to feel lonely in this unwanted crowd, and keep loving them with all your bruised heart.
Wasn't I supposed to write about separation? But what if I feel departed & not separated. Like one in isolation.
Maybe this will end one day, the feeling. Maybe I'm waiting for the story to conclude. For only when it ends that one truly feels it all over again.
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