Who are you when you're not in love?

She had to see you in your worst to know you truly and see if she could love you like that, all of you, as you are.

She cannot tell you that she loves you because everything is forbidden to her, she is punished by the night and the death, to roam sleepless, endlessly locked up behind the barred windows.
In the impossibility of everything, she has to suffocate her feelings in her general slow decay.

Can love ever be pure again?

What do you do when you're lacking a huge piece of your soul that is so distantly unattainable and craving it so enormously that you feel the hole inside your chest all the time?

Two decades ago, she had her soul stolen; went back to get it and said goodbye. But now it's completely different, I guess, it's somewhat inexplicable.

Maybe one day, more twenty years past, they will see each other as they imagined: while she plays the violin on a concert and he applauds crying at the sight of her from the audience. "Bravo!"

But life is never quite like in the movies, is it?


(after watching On Chesil Beach, on new year's eve on tv)