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“I’m losing her. We rarely talk. I mean REALLY talk. I don’t event recall when was the last time we laughed together”. He looked lost and sad. He looked like a man, who struggled to get back what was impossible to bring back…and deep inside he knew that too. 
They were sitting in the pub and drinking beer. That’s what they did every Friday after work in the past 15 years. They’ve been best friends and supported each other in all bumpy times. This was yet another bump one of them was trying to overcome…

“ Nothing is as it has been before… I don’t even remember when we went out together. Yesterday I found the printed e mail messages, which he wrote the first month we started dating. 10 years have passed since then and unfortunately I have the feeling that much more than years have passed…”. Her eyes were becoming wet and she was hugging her favorite pillow. Her best friend was far away and she used skype to pour out her problems, thoughts and worries in foreign language, which these days did not feel foreign to her at all… 

“The sad thing is that your situation is much better than many others. These days many don’t even have the luck of staying together for so long. Most of them shout, break dishes and move apart with a baggage of insults, hatred and tears” his friend was trying to help, although he knew how impossible it was. In fact he was one of those with the heavy baggage himself.

The screen showed the worried face of her friend. She was silent for a while, then she left and came back with an album.
 “Hey, please look here….” And the screen showed their photos from different parties, their past careless lives and happy faces. 
“Do you know what was the most important thing I learned from you then?” She had no idea, so she waited for the answer.
“You told once that if there is something worth fighting for, then it’s the love. That’s the only thing which makes you feel alive. Of course you were fighting for the wrong guy back then, but I think you were right” 
She smiled through tears. Even then she had been very romantic. And no matter how things turned she still is… though with less enthusiasm these days.

Men paid and left the pub. It was fresh air outside and the light rain was gifting its small drops. In short it was his favorite weather. He decided to walk, so they parted next to his friend’s car.

He was walking, breathing the fresh air and in his thoughts getting back to 10 years ago. He recalled them kissing under the rain in his old red car, he recalled when and where she kissed him for the first time and what kind of look she had in her eyes, when he told that they had to part. Then he thought of how many things he would miss if back then she would have not protested and they had parted. 

After she switched off the computer she went back to swim in her memories. “Fighting for love”, she smiled to herself thinking how smart she had been in her 19s. Maybe much smarter than she is now… She recalled how she “fought for her love” when out of nowhere, just when she thought all was perfect, he came and looking very serious and convincing told that they had to break up.

What if she agreed and moved away then? What kind of life would she have? She thought, recalled and felt… and at some stage she lost the sense of time and was back in the “10 years before” again. Once she got there she felt how much she’s missing him. She even felt the pain of longing for that passionate, honest, somehow strange and very sensual guy from “10 years ago”.

She opened a bottle of beer, started drinking it straight from the bottle and cried with a second wave. That’s what she loved doing most these days…drinking beer and crying…

He was walking home faster with each step. He hoped she wasn’t asleep by the time he gets back. He missed her. Missed the girl she was when they met for the first time, missed the woman she has become after those 10 years… he suddenly realized how close she was, how “his” and how irreplaceable…  

She went to the balcony and stand there watching the stars… She already knew what to wish for in case one of them falls. 

On his way back he stopped by a cyber café, where mostly teenagers were stuck in social networks, hugged by the illusion of what they longed for. He took a computer, received different strange looks and typed his e mail log in and password. He opened a message window and started typing everything he felt and thought of. He wrote for half an hour and without even reading, he typed her address in “To” field and pushed “send” button. With victorious face he paid and left the zombies.

The star fell and she immediately thought of her wish…

Something made her get back to the computer. She decided to check her mail and see if her friend had already sent her the photos she showed in their skype conversation, as promised. There was only 1 new message in her inbox and it was from him… He hadn’t written to him since 10 years already… strange.

She opened the message and started reading. She read and cried… The message reminded her of his messages which were 10 years old already. The wish was granted by the star…they were back to the times when it all started and their feelings were back too…

She jumped from the door bell. She went to open the door.

He was standing with the same boyish look in his eyes. She opened the door and fell into his arms. He held her tight and felt exactly the same he felt in his old red car….
 

   

I have changed the numbers on my watch,
And now perhaps something else will change. 
Now perhaps 
at precisely 2 a.m.
you will not get up
and gathering your things together
go forever.
Perhaps now you will find it is 
far too early to go, 
or far too late,
and stay forever. 


- Brian Patten –

Passion, kisses, naked bodies hungry for each other… silence, sighs, wrinkled sheets…
He’s sleeping and she looks at him and swallows back the tears.

“Does he feel where he sleeps, at home or with me? Does he feel any difference in his sleep?” she thought and sighed. This was a completely different sigh from the one which came out of her mouth 20 minutes ago. This sigh was heavy, tired, weak, sad and unwelcomed by the quite silence of the room. 

No, she never felt used. It was her free will and her soul’s choice. Some people love and feel happy; some others feel the pain… She didn’t know if the pain was stronger than the love by now. 

She didn’t know many things, but in one thing she was certain. Exactly in one hour his alarm clock will wake up waking them up too. She’ll pretend that she’s half asleep, although she will not close her eyes just before the alarm sets on. He will wake up slowly. His face will show relief when he’ll see that she’s sleeping, he’ll kiss her cheek, put on his clothes and slowly disappear. Like a dream, like a nightmare or simply like a married man, who was visiting his mistress… 

Every time she’ll torture herself imagining what happens once he gets home. Each time she’ll make a new scenario and feel the dull pain… 

Every time she’ll promise herself that this will be the last time for the alarm clock waking up at 2 a.m.

And every time there are new 2 a.m’s …. and always the same unkept promise

It was Valentine’s Day… almost evening.

Couples were walking in the streets of Paris and the restaurants were packed. Flower sellers, no matter weather in love or not, had a happy day. In the air there were love, roses, candles and whispers…

She was walking parallel to the river, wrapped in her black coat, dragging her feet with heavy boots. She was in the most romantic city of the world on the most romantic evening of the year… alone.

With each passing kissing couple new tear was born. She did not fight the tears back. Today they had the freedom to be as many as they wish, as strong as they wish and last for as long as they wish. She was alone, but her tears were in pairs. They were kissing her cheek and each other, while sliding down and dropping to the pavement. Later couples’ boots will step on them and they will die. 

She had read so many books about this wonderful city. She imagined so many things about the time she’ll be there. And today, as opposed to what she imagined, she shared her company with her colorful dreams and tears. She felt like a woman stepped of a book written by Remarque… but unfortunately there was no Ravic to bump into.

Something deep inside told her that that’s how she will always feel. Her romantic desires and plans will stay in books…some written by her, some by others. That’s where she will hide her dreams and tears, that’s where she will keep her memories and feelings. To many they will be just typed words… for her they will always stay sacred, pure, intense and feeling-full. 

Maybe that’s why, even now, a decade after that Valentine ’s Day, she still does not admire the “romantic Paris”. Maybe someday they will meet again and things will be different? Maybe she’ll have the chance of seeing Paris the way many others, who made it a Romance symbol see it? Who knows?

Or maybe it’s not about the city? Romance lives in hearts and souls and there are romantic couples in every city in every corner of the world… 
And when it fades away… it fades away even in Paris. 

She was finishing up her work day. The excel files were closed, the drawers locked and she rushed out of the room. She took a full mini-bus and spent 15 minutes in it, tired with thoughts rushing from one place to another, memories taking her from one place to another. Since few weeks she had this feeling that she doesn’t belong here… When she thought “here” she meant the whole meaning of the word…the country, the workplace, the boy-friend, the lifestyle, the goals…her whole life in general. Many years will pass and she’ll understand that this feeling will be visiting her often and it’s not scary….but this was the first time and she was scared…

Her boy-friend’s friend’s birthday was in half an hour and she had few minutes to go home, take off that smart suit and get back to her real self. Her boy-friend will come and wait for her next to their building as always and they will walk to the restaurant... Everything with him was so predictable…everything had become a habit and that was so against her real self. She was entering this transition period when she had to make drastic changes…but to which direction, when and how was something she was trying to decide. In any case she thought that since she had to go to this party she’ll try to spend good time.

They were the last ones who came. All were at the table already. She looked so different from how she looked at work. Her make-up was intense, jeans tight and heels high. She acted careless, but only she knew how many thoughts she had in her tired mind. Those people thought they knew her…but they didn’t…and they will never know that they didn’t.

Maybe from aside she looked strange… She was the only one who didn’t eat and sliced lemon on her plate to have something to eat on top of the vodka she was drinking. The vodka did match neither the hot summer weather, nor her look… but still.

When she had a decent quantity of alcohol and could relax a bit, chase away the worrying thoughts and actually not care, she had few dances. 

Then he took her home, she opened the door with the key, not to wake up her mum and bro and got in. She spent few minutes looking at her image at the mirror.

“Hey, there! Is this how you’d like to live? Senseless… empty…with people who don’t know you…following the habit, simply because it’s comfortable???”
She looked at the mirror and saw a new look in her eyes. Look of determination, look of maturity ….and the upcoming change”

That’s how it all started… and few months later, when she was ready, she took the final decision, made the required steps and changed everything.

She was attending other gatherings, next to her she had completely different man and her new life brought completely different thoughts…and completely different problems…
New problems to be solved affront of the mirror… 

Sometimes being strong is a weakness…

Sometimes, when people leave you when you need them to stay you’re too strong to ask them…
Sometimes, when you need help, you’re too strong to admit it…
Sometimes, when you need compliments, care and warmth, your strong image blocks the way…
Sometimes you’re so strong that people think you can do anything…alone!

But when I look at it now, after wiping out my tears and calming down, it’s only sometimes…

In most cases you don’t fall, because you’re strong..
In most cases you keep your self confidence thanx to your strength…
In most cases you don’t let anyone hurt you cause you’re strong enough to hurt back…

In any case being a strong woman is much better than being a weak man!

I spent few minutes staring at the empty word document on my screen. Then a strange thought came up.

Why can’t writers make a chef d'oeuvre presenting the readers with simply empty cover and pages. It would be something like Malevich’s Black Square. Why not?  

And you can always have the excuse that readers have to be able to read the spaces between the words and this creation consists of spaces only.

The readers, on the other hand will have the opportunity reading whatever they prefer to read in those empty pages!

I received a phone call at home few minutes ago. Here is the conversation...funny and sad at the same time.

- Hallo?

- Hallo. I'm sorry, I received a phone call from your number to my cell phone yesterday. Who is it?

- Huh? I don't know? Which number?  It may have been my husband, so can't tell really, sorry!

- Oh, OK

then a small pause. I can hear her smiling and she talks again

- In fact the call was not to me but to my husband's cell phone. So don't get tense please.

- Tense!? I'm not tense - and I wonder why should I be

-I saw the call yesterday and had some doubts and was nervous. So don't think of anything bad please.

I'm confused and amused at the same time.

- Don't worry, it wasn't me calling.

- Bye

That's it! Who was she? How did she sleep last night? I don't know, but I hope this night she'll sleep better :)

People spend lots of time, money and effort in order to get good looks, blond hair, nice figure and other “modern” values. They get concentrated on the “package” and there is no time and effort left for the “inner” construction… And as a result they stay empty within. Just like a nice but empty gift box, wrapped with shiny paper and ribbons. It creates so many expectations, but once you open it and meet with the emptiness inside, you realize how vain the gift is. You can’t even re-gift it to someone else…

What many people don’t realize is that the shortest path to better looks is pure inner happiness. I’ve never met anyone, who’s happy and ugly at the same time. Happy people attract, because they shine from within. Their smile, the sparkles in their eyes and the calm self confidence and self satisfaction are sexiest aspects of their looks. And no matter what color their hair is, how many kg they weigh and what they wear, they will always turn heads in the street.

Unfortunately there is no shortest path to inner happiness. To each, happiness is something different. Nevertheless, I think once they reach it they all feel the same.

I think I look much better these days, because although I have not reached the phase of complete happiness, I can see it on the horizon already. It patiently waits for me standing there with a smile on his face. And I’m moving towards him with slow, but steady steps. It won’t take long, I know. I’m almost there.

Each step makes me stronger, calmer and happier…

The inspiration has left me recently and I have too mcuh to think about, take care of and other "real and dull" things to deal with, that's why there isn't much to write. Just a small thought, which crossed my mind yesterday.....

- Are you lying? - she asked

- No- he replied... and that itself was a lie 

Hopefully i will come back soon with more productive thoughts:)

In between her inner and outer selves there is a small cute contradiction, which nags her all the time. Just like the small kid, who twists you and calls “mum” 1000 times, if needed. 
The small cute contradiction has been living with her since 10 years already. At first she did not notice her, but later her demanding “mum’s became so loud that there was no way to ignore, forget or just leave. At first it irritated her. They were fighting all the time and sometimes when the contradiction was becoming unbearable she was slapping her cheek. And what made her even madder, the contradiction only smiled at her after that.

The Fate had made fun of her. She had plans, she knew what she wanted and she knew what to do in order to get what she wants. Then the Fate interfiered and they started playing an unfair game. She was making different steps towards her dreams and affront of each step the Fate was putting a high barer. One by one she was climbing the barrier, jumping it down from the other side only to see the next barer to climb. 

When fate saw that barriers may not help, it started another strategy. Fate mixed her up from within. Then Fate made its hardest blow. It made her go back to her roots, which had become foreign to her long ago and made her live in a place, where everything was against her major life principals, a place which was so far away from her dreams.

With each year she was getting older, her dreams further and her goals uncertain.

She felt like a flower, which was put in a pot too small for it, in a place where the light was not enough and given to someone, who watered it only when it looked almost dead.
She, like the flower tried hard not to get too big, in order to fit somehow in the pot and was turning its head to the window in order to get at least a bit of sun. As to the water, which in her case was her inner peace, she couldn’t do much. It was never sufficient.

Then, at some point, the fight with the Fate stopped because she gave up and started following its rules. She almost became ordinary even… Fortunately almost. And as a result of the small but certain “almost” that small cute contradiction was born.

When some time passed and she realized that the contradiction wasn’t such a bad thing after all, she started realizing its importance and its role in her life. 
After all that contradiction was the slight hope and the narrow sunray cracking the dark. It was what was left from her dreams and plans.

And as long as that contradiction existed, she knew that she was almost ordinary and her dreams were almost dead.

As far as it wasn’t final, she still could play with the Fate, talk to the Contradiction and stay pregnant with hope!

She was living in friend’s empty house, which was in the most expensive area and where thepublic transport did not drive, but she had no car. That is why she was waking up 2 hours before her classes started and her way to uni took almost an hour. But that had no impact on her mood. She was waking up with the alarm, turning on the music, putting on the cloths, singing and dancing at the same time. 

The bus was taking the longest possible route, passing parks, Moroccan areas, churches and even one jail. Every time she passed the biggest jail of the city she wondered who were inside, what their cameras looked like and who are waiting for them outside those high walls. 

Later, when she had observed everything in the 40 minute drive and knew the way by heart, she started taking books to read in the bus. The books were different but all of them took her somewhere else and made those 40 minutes seems much less.

Moroccans started laughing and talking loud, which was ok because that’s what most of them did in the public transport. But that was the beginning only. Then they started asking questions to the guy, who looked scared and tried to be polite. She was looking at the scene and thought that if that happened in her country, the modest guy would minimum curse them, but it’s back there, here people were too polite to go against such pricks. They mostly smile back. Then Moroccans started pushing the guy and telling different F… category words following with loud laughter. The guy only smiled back.

She debated with her inner self to interfere or not and she is too ashamed to admit that she got scared. She was very thin 19 year-old alone in a bus, in the dark, in foreign country and no one was waiting for her at home. She realizes that all that is not a decent excuse, but she did nothing…she only sighed with relief when finally after few bus stops Moroccan assholes left.

She took out the book from her big bag and started reading. The bus was almost full. On the second stop a nice looking guy came in and sat next to her. Although she did not stop reading, she could sense his look on her face. The look lasted a long time and she decided to raise her face and look back to see what’s going on.

Oh I drifted away, I guess. So their eyes met and they smiled. She noticed for the second time that he was a good looking guy. He had latino looks and sparkling eyes. 

He spoke first. It was French, but with Spanish accent. He was asking for her name. She told and heard his name in return. It appeared that he was a hairdresser, who was opening his private salon and since he found her face to be perfect for his salon’s image he was offering her to agree and pose for his salon’s advertising billboards. They would do different haircuts and shoot her.She would be hanged in different parts of the city.

Maybe that’s how some famous models started their career and maybe if she said yes her life would take completely different twist, but she said no. The guy tried for few more bus stops, then left his business card knowing that she will never call and left.