Sunday, September 11, 2016

Broken hearts make it rain

I stupidly fell in love. Let my guard down, took someone too close, believed for a second everything could be wonderful.
It was wonderful, that’s what got me. We were in a film, magical moments, actors in a screenplay, a clichéd love story.
One night we walked and walked, neither of us wanting to go home, till we got to the top of Volkspark Friedrichshain. We sat on a bench and looked at the night sky through the treetops and she put her head on my lap. I kissed her and held her and neither of us said a word for ages, even though we were both fucking freezing. The last frost before summer, she called it. The cold clawed at us from outside, I was shivering, but the moment’s warmth was so special we stayed. I sat there savoring it and nothing else.
I didn’t know I loved her at the time but I guess I must have. I sent her postcards from France, one from each city I went to during the Euros. Fuck! When I think of it…
I thought I really liked her, nothing more. There were no expectations, ever. She had a boyfriend and I dared not think ahead. Everything was present tense. We made no plans. We met and talked about the here and now, the past, life, never the future. The future’s too scary, too grown up. We stayed in our bubble.
I knew to savor it, to savor us, and even learnt to savor the pain of her being away. Not really, it hurt, I fucking hate it.
It took me a while before I admitted to myself that I loved her, the realization a shock that set off alarms in my head. I’d been hurt before and it’s shit, said I’d never let it happen again. But I ignored the fears, pushed the doubts away, took the risk and dared believe she might actually be interested in me despite my faults and weaknesses.
She seemed to be interested, said she was, dumped her boyfriend and told me about it in a text because “just maybe it might delight you in some way.” Not that it mattered. I was still in the bubble, enjoying every moment we had together. What she did in her own non-bubble life was up to her.
Reticence prevented me from rushing in but finally I told her I loved her when she’d all but told me she felt the same. Hab dich lieb. We kissed. No words, no thoughts, just happiness. We held each other, nothing more precious than our closeness.
Of course it didn’t last or I wouldn’t be writing these words. I don’t know why it didn’t last, it doesn’t matter. She fell out of love again for some reason, it happens. But it happened in a heartbeat. At least I savored the moment. There won’t be any more.

4 comments:

  1. Sorry to hear this. Like reading your posts. David

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  2. Ah, that's a sad story. Nevertheless, you have to take the risk sometimes if you think it's worth it. Lay yourself open. Be vulnerable. You tried. No words can compensate your loss. Hope things work out better in the future.

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  3. Thanks for all the kind words and good wishes. Really, it means a lot, I appreciate it.

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