My room is filled with people I hardly know and faces I have never seen before. They talk, they dance, they sit on the floor and they sleep in my bed. She takes my hand and leads me out to the balcony, away from the crowd. I love her because I don’t understand her. I love her because she’s different in a way I can’t explain. Life is full of contradictions; I don’t believe in love. I don’t believe in everlasting love. I don’t know how to love. She asks whether I want to have a piece of the cake and I watch her eat; her beauty haunts me. An enigmatic apparition, she passes by and she disappears. She goes back in and she returns, out on the balcony. She sees me. She smiles at me. She is not a myth. Her love pains; a petrifying, unattainable love.
Everyone is dancing and I watch her among the crowd, laughing, her eyes melancholic. I promise something just to feel alive, just to hold on to something. I try to understand; not life, for that is beyond reach, but how to live without stumbling on the way, incessantly. What if we were merely passers-by? No passions, no sorrow, no hurt, not even indifference, only lightness. I look at her and I feel a certain kind of numbing sweetness run through my veins. Never has truth been so beautiful. Never has beauty been so calm.
I hold her letter in my hand; written words have a soul of their own for they never die. If there is nothing between us but words then there is nothing that can keep us apart.
Love was unfathomable then, for it was a time when I believed I would live forever.