Tuesday, 6 September 2011


Sometimes I wonder how many years have to pass until my heart will stop longing... And other times I am scared of the day when longing will not be anymore...Longing hurts. Years after and it still hurts. But longing also keeps the memory alive.

There are moments, when suck into my own mind, not really looking around me, and I see someone I think is him. My head snaps and I stare. Of course I know it is impossible to see him. Too many worlds are between us. But my heart chooses to fool itself for few seconds and I feel like running to tell him how much I still love him. And it is just a stranger... And then longing hits me. It feels like my heart is held painfully tight, like a void swallows me. I sigh.

And then are the moments when the memories don't come. Days, sometimes weeks pass, and I'm not thinking. And when something does remind me, I get scared that maybe I will forget. And that is fear as the only connection now are the memories.

It hurts to remember. But it is also filled with sweetness, with memories of warmth and peace and safety. In a way it is like looking back towards an Eden lost. I selfishly want it back. Because not matter how many years passed, how much my life changed, I still want the safety of love.

Because love it was. Just pure, giving love. It was the safety of knowing that no matter what, the love will always be there, equally as strong. And sometimes I took it for granted, fooled into the idea that it will always be there. I thought that it will always be tomorrow, that I can always go back.

But when I did went back it was too late. And when life crushed around me, when I felt crushed by the weight of my sorrows, when I needed the most, it was too late, and all I had left were memories.

Sometimes an old man, with white hear and slow step, reminds me of him. And I want to run into his arms as I so often did. But I can't. All my arms touch is empty air. I wanted him to always be there, to see my daughters grow. I wanted that for him, because I knew how much he loved me, and I wanted it for them. But the moments when they had each other were brief. I was too busy living on the other side of the planet.

He taught me to play cards and to trust. He taught me to have patience and understanding. He taught me that I deserved love even when I made mistakes. Oh, I loved him. I always did, and even now, when other worlds are between us, I still do.

I was too far away and it was too late. Way too late to even manage to jump in a plane. I needed to tell him how much I loved him, how much he meant to me. I wanted to thank him. But it was too late. I tell him now, in my thoughts. As I tell him about my daughters, his great granddaughters. But it is too late. And I would so much want him too see then growing up and following their dreams. I'd so much want to sit with him in silence again, letting love talk without words.

And my heart still cries for him. The pain and the longing are still alive in me. And sometimes I feel him round me, gentle and understanding. But I can't hug him again. Does he hear me when I tell him that he was the best grandfather anyone would want? I miss him so much my heart breaks.

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