I’ve sent you my letter many times, I think the wind took them. Please take this letter in earnest, because I will never write you again — not because I don’t have time, but because I am losing my hope in you, catch me soon. Tonight I am looking at the sky, and I feel how every single star has died in my eyes. I am so afraid that you could die at once with them. So afraid that I will never meet you, even if I said that I don’t believe in you anymore. There are probably many people who ponder this question.
“Who are you?” But what really bothers me is if I will meet you, could you ever be like you were in the first moment we saw each other? Can you be soulful for all your life? The one who can fly, be scared, cry, die and live, who can love. The one who is not afraid to leave his body, his priority, who never will be afraid to breathe once with me, without having anything.
And if you can be real, can you promise me that you will never lie to me, that you will be transparent as a tear drop? Can you promise me that you will never give life to words if you don’t feel them in your veins? Can you promise me that you will never hurt my world?
Under my eyelash I see the world somber, and I am tired of this cloudy sky, with every single day I am so far from believing in your shadow. I am walking alone on this earth, but I can feel your hand hold mine without any space. I know you will always be next to me, because in the night we reflect in the same moon, in the same sky. And the depth in our soul is a big abyss. I don’t know you but I can feel you, I know that I am falling deeply and slowly in your eyes with every sunset. You live under my skin, in my veins, through my bones. Sometimes you can hurt me and I have, in that place rust. But sometimes you can make me as happy as the sky, I don’t want to open my eyes.
I thought about you last night, when lighting cut the sky and the sky started to cry. I saw your eyes, clear in my mind, almost as if you were looking right at me. Your voice was in my mind. Your touch was on my skin, almost like you were holding me close, and I felt under my skin every single touch. And I love how you listened to me when I talk about something, about nothing, about everything.
People complain about this life, and they lose time making themselves busy, they look down instead of looking up to the sky, up…to the sun. The world can’t hurt you if you stop to seeing the happiness in the sky, in the world around you. We start to be pieces of a scar, walking every day on the same ground with the same tracks.
May I say something before I go?
It’s been a long time that I cannot breathe.