A mild August night and I am sitting on the edge of the cliff beneath the silver moonlight, breathing in the salty summer breeze. It was over. You have said it in a phone call. Loud and clear: Goodbye.
I wonder why people keep saying ‘Goodbye’ when my byes have never been anything but bad.
Just like this one.
I should have known better and not been so naive. Long-distance never works; it’s either here and now or it’s not at all. There’s no in-between.
“Yes, baby, I’ll write you letters…”
No, baby, you won’t.
Bitter is the end of any badly thought out decision and even more so are the tears that I keep crying. But they are slowly drying out, leaving behind nothing but tiny salt crystals on my sides. To be taken away by the breeze.
The night air is soothing and so is the serenity of the place. It’s been years since I’ve come here – the last time with a childhood friend, who has promised to never let me go.
I close my eyes and feel them burn under my eyelids. I give them a moment to relax and as I open them again, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. Fear. Seconds turn into minutes as I slowly turn to face the person behind me. And then a deep breath: two familiar eyes and a friendly smile. It’s been a while since we’ve been here together. I feel like a kid all over again.
Suddenly, everything falls into place: the night, the breeze, the warmth, the embrace.
I let him hold me close as I attempt to make my heart calm down. All’s good, one more time. I have buried my face on his chest, secretly wiping away the tears of joy with his shirt. My fingers have fiercely clung to his back. Slowly, he slides his hands down my body and gently places them on my waist. I shiver. His breath tickles my neck and I feel the urge to pull him even closer.
Instead, he does.
I realize I have never felt safer, but I can’t find the words to tell him. My mind has gone completely blank. He breaths my scent in and moves his arms back up. He takes a step back to lay his eyes on mine and gently takes my face in his hands. His touch whispers Trust me and his look says I love you. I listen to him and fall into his arms once more as his lips press against my forehead. I want the moment to last forever: the two of us on the edge of the cliff, just like years before.
Together. A girl and her friend – a friend, who never let her go.
Yes, me is who I am and you is who I’m not. And yes, your life is a misconception. And no, you’re so not better.
In the world you live in, you’re God. You’re always right and you’re always great. No one can touch you. Awesome. Just one thing: you’re wrong. Oh-but-I…
No I-s and no but-s. Oh, and no oh-s.
Who are you to tell me how my life is going to go? Who are you to tell me I’m a failure?! Who, the hell, are you to judge me? That I don’t have what it takes, that I’ll never be good enough, that I’m not like you and that I’ll never be?! Well, you know what? I’m glad I’ll never be. Because I…am so much better.
A dreamer, you would call me. Fine, I dream. But at least I go after my dreams. I run. And that’s why I am half way through to them already, whereas you are where again?! Oh, yes: you’re on top of the world, pointing your finger at the ones below you; telling them that they’ll never reach you. That they’ll never be any good.
Fair enough.
And no, not for you. For them, everyone else. Because one day, not too long from now, your world will crumble and your pride will fall to pieces. And you’ll be laughed at; and pointed at. Humiliated. You’ll be coming back but no one will be looking for you. Because this is how life goes: you have to respect in order to be respected, believe in order for others to believe in you.
You need to give in order to take.
You’ve taken a lot from me and it’s time for you to pay your dues. Life’s a bitch, ain’t it? It’s never too late to taste it, so be my guest.
His body was burning with desire, quickly losing control. She dominated his mind.
The way she danced across the floor made his fantasies go wild; the way her hair followed every move of hers set his dirty thoughts soaring. Her scent made him high.
He was her subordinate.
His eyes were wandering around the place, tirelessly looking for her. She had gone to get drinks, but it was taking her too long. He was getting impatient. Indeed. The animal instinct within his body was slowly waking up for another night of raw emotions.
A ray of blond crossed his sight, reflecting the shimmering light in the club. She was back and in time to satisfy his needs. He found it hard to control himself. He had clenched his teeth, waiting for the moment to give in to the arousal. His breathing fast.
He was like a vulture about to attack its prey.
She was used to that. It was her job to give men a break from life. The way they wanted it. She has had them all: sweet, rough, gentle, aggressive. Even cruel. Another one wouldn’t have made much of a difference. For her, it was money. For him, it was satisfaction.
None of them really cared.
They didn’t care much while they were at the club table, exploring each other’s bodies with a frantic physical desire. They didn’t even care when his tongue pressed against her neck, down at her chest and made its way back up to her mouth. Or when his hand slid between her legs and then swiftly under her skirt. She was stone cold. Not a single fiber of her body trembled. His, however, was out of control; his lines – distorted beyond recognition.
It was all a big scene and they were the actors.
It wasn’t real when he let her into his apartment and pushed her against the door even before it had completely closed. She moaned with pain. He didn’t care. He tore her top apart and let it slide to the floor; her bra he undid with his teeth. Her skirt wasn’t in the way at all anymore. His eyes were sparkling with perversion. To him, it couldn’t get any hotter. She, on the other hand, found it routine, and even a little boring.
But there they were, in the spotlight. The show was about to start.
No more inhibitions. Not until the end of the night.
I’ve had many. All at different times, but many. And I’m 26.
You can figure it out for yourself that it takes some practice to learn how to get into a relationship, quickly sneak out of it and then plunge into a new one all over again. And I am one of those people who fall in love…and when I say fall, I don’t really mean fall – I mean dive. So deep that if you were a professional diver, it would take you at least five minutes to reach the surface. No oxygen bottle provided. Learn this and forget all your worries.
Look at me.
Give me a relationship and I’ll be on top of the world while in it, completely oblivious to the world around me, but when time comes to put an end to it, I’ll have no problems getting out. Unharmed.
They’ll try to pull me down, convince me that they’ve broken heart – in so many pieces that it is virtually impossible to put them back together again. They’ll try. And they’ll lose. My heart’s unbreakable and my soul undaunted. Me? I’m undefeatable. Don’t even waste your time trying – ask me, and I’ll tell you.
I'm only 26 and I've managed to build a wall around my heart. It’s easy to get through it. In both directions. But it never lets you leave a permanent mark.
And yet, I still consider myself deep. Emotional. Happy? I do not.
I ended up hanging out with a cruel gang. That I-am-so-much-cooler-than-you type. The type that would smile at you, but turn around and trip you the moment you have shown them your back. The kind of people who would spit in your face because they have realized it’s too much of an effort to turn their head to the side and spit on the ground. The ones who would tape you to the toilet, snap a picture of you and post it on the school website…
Just because it’s fun.
And when that happens, what options do you have. Fight back? Yes…if you’re an idiot. But you’re not, so you quickly do the math.
You’re all alone.
You can’t run to mommy because then you’d be a crybaby. You can’t tell your best friend because (oh right!) you don’t have one. You can’t even complain to the ice-cream scooper because he’d rather slam the door in your face than risk being seen near a wuss.
There’s just no point. And you secretly know it, even though you can’t get over how unfair life is. You can only hope that the everything-comes-back-around-and-kicks-you-in-the-ass saying will do you some good in the future. But you never know.
For now, you can only keep your eyes on the ground and let the big boys roll. And when they tell you you suck, you suck; when they show you the “No Dogs Allowed” sign in the park, you get off your butt and leave, and when they try to spit in your face again, you first show them the finger...and run.
It’s a story as old as one could remember. About a man who to many was only a stranger, to many others – a wanderer, to third – a lunatic; some had never even him seen him. But truth is, everyone had heard of him, or at least of his song.
This was not a song as one would recognize today – it had no melody and no rhyme, but its words…were magic.
…
It was at the time when the village was devastated by the plague. There was almost no one on the streets anymore; people had lost all hope for happiness. Their lives had ended.
Only one man was still out there. Nobody knew exactly who he was or if they did, they pretended he didn’t exist. No one was ever fond of outcasts. But he didn’t care. He loved people; all of them. He wouldn’t mind if they cast him away or simply ignored him; he wouldn’t mind if they cursed him and ran away as if he were the devil. No. He’d actually walk by with a smile and look for a way to make those people believe that they should be happy.
…
He was out in the woods one day as an idea came to his mind. He kneeled next to a pine-tree, sliced a thin layer of bark with his knife and carved in the words that he believed were life’s driving force:
There’s a someone out there whose heart beats only for you
The message had to be passed along.
Only few people in the village could actually read and one of them was the priest: the next morning the piece of bark had already ended up from under the door into the hallway of the church.
“There-s a some-one out the-re who-se heart beats on-ly for you,” he read the words aloud. He then thought about them and smiled. A message from God? He had always known that love existed and was determined not to let it die.
The priest was indeed the right person to carry on these words.
He waited until darkness had come down over the village and headed for the merchant’s house. It was not more than 10 minutes away from the church. Once there, he stopped in front of the door, pictured the coming conversation in his mind ahead of time and then knocked. The merchant’s footsteps were quiet but the priest heard them reach the entrance and come to a halt.
“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice frightened.
“It’s me, you can open,” the priest answered.
The man on the other side of the door seemed to relax and turned the key in the lock.
“How can I help you, father?”
“I need to speak to your daughter.”
“To my daughter?” the man’s face went completely pale. She was his only child. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” the priest’s matter-of-fact smile did not seem to calm the man down. “I would only like to ask her how she is doing.”
“She’s fine.”
“In person.” Battle won. He was allowed into the house.
Anne was a beautiful 17-year-old girl.
Her blue eyes turned to the door as the priest knocked quietly.
“Come in,” the girl’s high voice echoed from inside. “Father!” she was happy to see a familiar face other than that of her parent.
“I am here to tell you something,” he told her as he sat down in an armchair. “An angel spoke to me today.”
“A real angel?” Anne was astounded.
“Yes, a real angel. He told me something that I would like you to remember…now and forever.” She moved closer to him and he whispered the words in her ear. Her eyes sparked with excitement, her cheeks filled with blood.
…
Time passed. People came out of their hiding places, but they couldn’t let go of the fear. Anne, however, seemed to shine. She was happy. She had made her best friend believe that there was a someone out there who lived with the constant thought of her.
And it went on from there. Her friend told her neighbor; he passed it along to a relative from the town nearby, she – to her children, her children to their children. The words often changed, but their message stayed the same.
“An angel came to Earth years and years ago and told a man that love is for everyone,” they would say. “Never forget it and make others believe in it as well.”
They did and they still do.
They are all singing the same song – a song written centuries ago by a man who lived with his heart. A man whose heart saved love.
The motel room is small, the window – wide open. The breeze is playfully tossing the curtains back and forth, but it can't chase away the cigarette smoke that lingers in the air. It's dark and tense. The noise of the speeding cars on the street is penetrating my mind, making me want to escape. The squeaking of the bed in the room next door is being anything but helpful. The roughness, the moaning, the screams of satisfaction. How long has it been since I have last screamed with pleasure!?
And then silence. The only sound left is the one of glass meeting wood, as I slowly place the bottle of scotch on the table.
Another moan. I shiver and catch myself biting my lip - so hard I can actually feel the taste of blood in my mouth.
There's no point in waiting for him, but also no point in going to bed. He's gone. Getting drunk probably, hitting on other women: I've gotten used to that. After the fourth year, it has become nothing more than a daily routine. He'd come back in the middle of the night, wasted, with the smell of women's perfume all over him, wanting more…this time of me. Back in the days, I would try to stand my own and not let him use me as a punch bag for all his physical needs. I never managed. He would toss me around the room, tie me to the bed and beat me until I'd have no more strength to scream or cry.
Nothing's changed since then. No, he has gotten better at one thing – using cruelty to his advantage. Perhaps I've made it easier for him: it's been so long since I've last tried to confront him. But then again, what's the point!? Has my body not suffered enough - my face, my arms, my legs and everything in between? Have I not heard my ribs crack under his weight so many times…?!
It's the same story over and over.
I know tonight he'll come back drunken again and look at me with that perverted spark in his eyes. And I know I'll turn my head to the side and will have to stand the humiliation of being his wife. But it is what it is. I can't escape; I've tried. He knows how to look for me. And when he finds me, he'd be 10 times as hard, and 20 times as disrespectful. There is nothing I can do, but smoke my cigarette and drink my scotch.
“Stop teasing me about this, I can’t tell you. That’s the beauty of a diary – to be a secret.” He kept making fun of my pink little notebook. “Plus, you wouldn’t understand.”
“But I thought we said no secrets,” he fired back as I hid the diary behind my back.
“I know, but…” I couldn’t even think of a reason not to tell him. But I love to keep him in suspense, so I prolonged the silence as long as I could. And then: “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
I opened the diary and flipped to page 1.
“11.11.2009,” I took a deep breath. “Mark took me out for dinner to that Italian place I told him I love. [He’s a good listener.] It’s been awhile since we’ve started dating but I like the way we’re taking it slow – makes me enjoy every second of falling in love with him…and work out past things.
The meal was good, as usual. And Mark was amazing. [Even more than usual.] He never let me out of his sight, held my hand while we were talking and laughed at my jokes.
He gave me a ride home. And walked with me to the front door. And to the bedroom door as well. A gentleman, I have to say. I imagined my first night with him to be like a scene from a movie. But...things being the way they were, it was nothing like that. And yet, it was perfect.
We walked in the room together and he swiftly closed the door with his leg. I could see the passion in his eyes. I felt his arms around my waist and then his body pulling me closer. His lines got blurry as I moved towards him…
A moment later, all was dark. I couldn’t see anything anymore. I could only sense his sweet scent and feel his lips on mine. Their warmth was soothing, their taste – captivating; I couldn’t let go and neither could he. But we did. My knees had gone completely weak and I saw my hands shake as I reached out to touch his face. He too, noticed.
He led me to the bed and gently laid me down on it. My heart was racing but I couldn’t move, I could only look at him and smile. He smiled back and lied on top of me; his lips centimeters away from mine, moving slowly as they uttered three simple words: “I love you.”
I love you too.
His fingers slid from my forehead, to my cheek and further down to the rest of my body. But they never tried to unbutton my shirt or unzip my jeans, and I know they wouldn’t until I have managed to put some things out of the way. He has seen through me and knows that I’m struggling to make past past, and this is why he never pushed. I’ll be myself very soon again; I only hope he’ll be next to me, waiting...”
Silence.
“Don’t stop, go on,” he said impatiently.
“That’s it. That’s all. I only have one page.”
“But that was a whole year ago. You must have written at least something since then.”
“No. I’ve never felt the need to write again since. I’ve had you."
Silence. I knew he wouldn’t…
“I understand,” he said to my surprise. “And I love the concept. Thank you for letting me write this story together with you."
“I...you don't have to...” He interrupted me and pressed his finger to my lips.
“I love you.”
Still caught in the web of emotions that past November had brought me, I recalled the four words I had so many times ran my fingers over…
One desert, one merciless sun, one long road and one love. Ours. Yours and mine. The one that is no more.
…
It was the hottest day in July so far. The air was dry and my body needed water. We had to save it. Ten minutes ago, we had passed that “Last gas station for the next 75 miles” sign, the one you made fun of. You couldn’t get over the half-naked guy holding as many water containers as he possibly could. “And that’s supposed to be attractive,” you said and drove past him. Remember?
…
I had my window open; the wind was blowing straight into my face, tousling my curls. I didn’t care. Something else was on my mind. You. I felt your hand cross the air from the wheel to my leg; it went slowly down until it reached my knee and then stopped gently. I shivered inside.
Have you been thinking about me all this time? I have. Your eyes were glued to the road ahead, but I was sure your mind was somewhere else. I turned to my left and slid my look from your hair, to your eyes, to the drops of sweat rolling down your cheeks, to your lips. Everything about you made me go crazy. You moved your hand up my leg again and held tighter when you got to my thigh. I want you so bad, I thought. All I could think of was pull over and get all over me.
That much we wanted each other back then. Remember?
…
I took your hand in mine and pressed it against my lips. Your face twitched with pleasure. You wanted more. Just like the night before when you held me in your strong arms, kissed me as if it was the last time we’d ever kiss, made love to me as if I was the only woman left on earth… And then you simply let me sleep by your side.
“I love you,” your words echoed in my head.
I breathed in your scent and listened to your heartbeat next to mine moments before I closed my eyes.
…
The car began to slow down; I could feel your fingers on my neck. Seconds turned into minutes as the adrenaline threatened to take the best of me…The rest is blurry. The car, the windows, the wind and the sand. The heat and the sweat. The passion and the love. You don't remember, do you?
It was all there, and it still is. In the past. We were but we are not anymore. Nothing else has changed, but us.
I miss the desert, I miss the sun…the wind, the sand and the endless road. But most of all, I miss you. The way you touched, kissed, shook with pleasure…the way you held tight. I miss your eyes, I miss your smile, your hair and your smell. I miss your lips. Your love.
I need to know now. No, don’t look away. Right now. Do you love me or not? And no, don’t start with your “listen, baby”… I can take the truth. Is it a yes or is it a no?
I can’t hear you.
But, yeah… keep running your fingers through your hair and keep staring at your feet. Oh yes, and that drop of sweat on your forehead… you can wipe that away too. Don’t worry, you’re not obvious at all.
And yes, I get it. It’s a no. But I need you to say it. And I want you to look at me.
You can’t just sneak out behind my back, go missing for one night after the other and come home in the morning… drunken like a sow. That ain’t working, baby. Not now and not in a million years…
Not with me.
Why are your eyes still fixed on the floor? Is there anything you’d like to say? No? How about if I ask you…?
How many?
And don’t you dare act dumb. Just give me a number. Three, five, ten? Or maybe you’re too cool to even keep a list? Now, come on, tell me. How many have you slept with? How many have you told you love and never called back? How many times have you made a girl’s heart race only to let her down hours later… to realize that there’s nothing to be excited about?? Go ahead. I’m listening…
I still can’t hear you. And I’m wondering… will I ever?
You’re forehead has really started to shine now. Come on, wipe those drops away, you have nothing to lose now…
Me? Oh, baby… you can be naïve, almost as much as a little girl. Do you honestly believe I could still be yours? Seriously? I guess this question will receive no answer either... will it? No?
No…
Too bad. Too bad you could never say it. It would have saved at least a tiny little bit of your dignity. But it’s too late now. And you’re a coward. As usual.
Oh yes, and don’t worry about me, my new life is just a door away… a door that I would be more than happy to close in your face. Just like that.
My mind reruns the tape in a slow motion as I start to feel the wet grass sucking through my clothes and the coolness of the stone behind me penetrating my skin.
Flash. Flash. And back.
Your eyes meet mine as you run past me, arms wide open… trying to feel the air and make it yours. The wind tousles your hair and makes you look even more beautiful than you are… that’s hard.
Flash.
You stop for a moment, focused on an object right in front of you.
“A butterfly,” you shout out as your eyes fill with joy. I can tell you’re happy. And so am I.
Flash.
My heart starts racing as I slowly get up and make a step towards you, not letting you out of my sight… not even for a moment. Blood fills my head as I see you look back at me. I blush. I try to hide it but I can’t.
Flash.
You are only feet away.
Flash.
You take my hand in yours and point to the horizon. The sunset is beautiful, I think, and I know you do too. The warmth of your fingers haunts my soul and I wish we could stay there forever. Together.
Another flash.
We are kids. Innocent and free.
And another.
Best friends.
Flash.
The wind whistles in my ear and makes me look around. Did you say something? No? I’m sorry, I thought… Never mind.
The grass is still wet and the stone – as cold as never before. I look down to my left and see you leaning on me, your head resting peacefully on my shoulder. The wind makes it hard for me to make out the sound of your breaths. A deeper one, however, makes me shiver inside.
It’s been years… Who would have thought we’d ever come this far?
You look at me and a smile lights up your face. I want to kiss you... your lips, your eyes. But I don’t. I let a moment pass. And then another one. Instead, I touch your palm with my fingertips… your hand closes up in a gentle grip with mine.
The warmth of your fingers haunts my soul and I wish we could stay here forever. Together.
Just one more, I promise… and then you can go. How hard is it?
Just one last kiss…
Thank you.
You can move on now. I’m sure I’m already just a memory; a shadow in a shadowy past, aren’t I?
Now, go. Turn around and leave. Why are you still standing here? Do you want to see me cry? Do you want me get down on my knees and beg? Because I won’t… not yet. Not in front of you; not for those cold blue eyes to see…
I said, go! Clock’s ticking, there’s no time to waste.
There you go, way better.
Now keep walking… and just… don’t come back. I can live without you. You bet I can! I can live without your loving smile… without your touch in the cool morning air. I can live without the sweet smell of your skin. Sure I can.
I don’t need you at all… do I?
Why would I need the strength of your arms, pulling me closely to you and holding me tight in the darkest of December nights… Or your lips running up and down my body, coming together as one with mine? Why would I need them to wipe away my tears… when I can do it myself too…
Yes, baby, the tears. The ones that can’t stop rolling down my cheeks right now and the ones that… you’re not here to chase away… But that’s fine. Don’t worry. I'll do it for you...
“Whenever on the beach, just close your eyes and make a wish… There I’ll be.”
And yet… it’s been years since we’ve been together; and yet it’s been years since I’ve felt you beside me. Six, to be precise. Six years on my own, wondering whether you still remember my name… Six years of tears and fears, and just… sheer loneliness.
And now… I have my eyes shut again… for you. It’s Aug. 5. Remember? Well, how could you forget? That was the day you promised me our very own love story will never end. We were sitting here on this beach, hand in hand… A couple made in heaven...
Weren’t we just the happiest…?
I remember… you running your fingers through my curls, kissing me gently beneath the silver rays of moonlight, trembling barely noticeable as I touched your face… I remember all of it... do you?
I catch myself crying again. When am I going to get over you and move on? I don’t know. It’s hard.
I look around and see nothing but the shadow of a palm tree nearby.
“… There I’ll be.” But you’re not. I close my eyes again to see your face once more, if only for a moment… And then I open them to let myself be swallowed by the darkness one more time. Before I surrender, though, I cast a dreamy glance to the place we first met… just meters away…
And then a gasp fills my lungs... How could that really happen?
I wasn’t alone any more. A silhouette… a man, sitting in the dark of the night. After all these years, could it really be... you? And could it also be that we were spending every Aug. 5 together on the beach without realizing it?
Perhaps we’ll never know… but only if you could stop being so focused on the sea and turn to see me. You weren’t alone any more. I was there too. At your fingertips… pretty much.
I closed my eyes again. “I wish I could be with you,” I thought. “Right here and right now. Please, see me. Be with me… again, but this time forever!” I could feel my tears fighting to break free again. I needed you like never before… now.
Nothing happened… at first, but then a deep voice came from somewhere on the side: “Close your eyes and keep them shut. Are you making a wish? Good... Because here I am."
My mind is blank. So blank I can’t let one single thought in. No, one I can. But it’s not really a thought, more of a memory really...
I’m staring out over the sea to the high mountain peaks. Strangely pinkish they are, caressed by the gentle last rays of sunlight. I’m haunted by an idea… I feel like I need my time with you, alone. I turn to my left expecting to see you beside me, but all my eyes meet is empty space.
And I can swear I heard your voice just now…
I let my eyes pass over the landscape for a moment longer, but not more… I get up and head for the beach. It’s so peaceful at that time of day. It’s just me and the sea.
And you.
I turn again, instinctively, but for the second time my eyes seize nothing but thin air. I long for your smile, for your laugh… I long for your words.
And yet they’re gone. Far away.
I keep walking along the beach, leaving behind nothing but my footprints in the wet sand. The subtle north wind tousles my hair and whistles in my ear.
Sounds a lot like you. I’m tempted to turn again… and I do, only to be left disappointed… again.
I need you…
… need you like the countless fish need the sea, like the summer heat needs an unexpected cool rain…
I need you the way only I can need you…
A loud splash echoes to my right and then cold water pours over my feet. I shake my head and look around. The beach is empty – the way I found it when I first came…
And then… the world starts turning, faster than ever before. It swirls me into its hurricane of emotions…
I am spinning and spinning, and spinning until I feel like drowning deep within its secrets… Memory ends soon, I think to myself.
There are secrets that expect me to uncover them, but I refuse.
Not now.
Not without you…
… and not alone.
I prefer to simply wake up and wait. I have all the time in the world.
Не е лесно да си различен. Но и еднакъв с другите да си не е много лесно. Ох, да ви кажа май и средно положение няма – не за друго, просто никога не можеш да го уцелиш. Един мъдрец обаче веднъж ми каза: „Бъди себе си и светът ще бъде твой!”.
И аз взех та му повярвах.
Тръгнах сърцето си да следвам, а то… еми то на много места иска, живот да види, щастлива да ме направи. Но и щастието, оказа се, относително е.
Беше свежа пролетна утрин, когато й казах… Не остана очарована. Разбира се, че не остана – та аз изоставях мечтите си. И аз го знаех, но нямаше просто как. Животът натам водеше ме. Решено беше.
Но не можех без спомени аз да тръгна. Помня, казваше ми тя как за това родена съм – с четка на света контурите да слагам и тях после с цветовете на дъгата да запълвам. Но не! – никога повече нямаше да рисувам… или поне не с нея. А ако не рисувах с нея, имаше ли изобщо смисъл да продължавам.
Нямаше как. Тръгвах си, оставях детството зад себе си, оставях спомени безброй, оставях едно истинско приятелство… Оставях и една страст. Оставих ги.
А обичах ли ги само! И сърце не ми даваше да се откажа, но трябва!, подсказваше малкият глас в главата ми. Заключих четките и боите в старото сандъче, под леглото скрих ги с тайната надежда, че някой ден отново ще го отворя и в светли багри живота ще обрисувам.
И тях оставих. Тръгнах си.
И по пътя все хора срещах и те с мечтите си, и те със своите страсти. Някои щастливи бяха, други не чак толкова, трети – като че ли в сън намираха се, толкова отдадени бяха. Но най-важното – те рисуваха… и това беше техният свят.
А аз гледах отстрани. Съжалявах. Знаех, че една от тях да бъда мога, но как?! Като нея друга нямаше; без нея различно беше. Сама не можех.
Сълзи в очите ми напираха, несъзнателно към невидимата четка ръката ми посягаше, а само тънък въздух хващаше. И после пак го изпускаше… Не веднъж, не два пъти, а винаги.
Завинаги.
Аз вече друга бях. Не момичето, което в мечтите живееше, а онова, което на тях позволила им беше, през пръстите й да се изплъзнат. Онова, което нощем тайно сълзи ронеше, своята страст с тъга си припомняше… а сутрин отново усмивка на лицето си слагаше – болката й случайно някой да не съзре.
Това беше тя. Онова момиче – с мечтата, която уж толкова близо беше, а всъщност толкова далеч. Онова, което с пръсти да я докоснеше можеше, а посегнеше ли, тя в струйка дим изпаряваше се. Онова момиче… помните ли го?
Лежа на мократа трева, погледа си блуждаещ в небето съм впила. Синьо е. Само малки бели петънца из необятността му гонят се… Обичам лятото. Някак успокояващо топло е, нежно. Бих могла така завинаги да си остана, във висините поглед вперила. Слънцето бавно към върха на планината спуска се и дълги сенки по тревата оставя. Чак призрачни изглеждат. Но мен не ме е страх, та тя моята също подобна е.
Вятърът се обажда. Развява бретона ми, а аз на свой ред сладкия му аромат поемам. Познат ми е. На него напомня. На момчето, в което веднъж влюбена бях… Ех, не беше ли хубаво очите му на виждам, усмивката му да изпивам, допира на пръстите му върху себе си да усещам.
И за него аз в този миг мисля си, и за него аз копнея. До мен да е, поне за малко; миналото отново да изживея. Но не става. Зная…
Гърба си вече мокър от росата усещам и сигурна съм, че утре от леглото няма да мога да стана… но мигът неповторим е. Оставам.
И отново поглед в небето заравям, и отново на мисли безбройни отдавам се. Но не за него. Вече не. За друг. За теб. Който… където и да си. Образа ти нежен с поглед изрисувам – очите ти звезди на тъмния нощен фон са, а усмивката ти – цяла падаща една… И до мен си, ръката държиш ми, мили думи в ухото ми шепнеш. Харесва ми. Ти ми харесваш.
Тъмно беше вече. Те вървяха по притихналия плаж. Не те, ние! Като приказка беше, още не вярвам, че самата аз героинята й бях...
Вятърът развяваше косите ми. Вървяхме двамата, един до друг, без да продумаме. Но аз знаех, а и той също, че тишината ни, нашата, цена нямаше. Глезените ми затъваха във влажния пясък. Ходехме бавно. Морският въздух галеше лицето ми, а бризът – своята песен в ухото ми пееше. Романтично беше, като във филм направо.
Забавих крачка…исках да го заговоря, да се взра в очите му, близък да го почувствам. Спрях. Погледнах към морето и лъх на нежност обля ме. Настръхнах. Даже малки тръпки по гръбнака ми спуснаха се. Каква красота, помислих си – неповторима.
Дори не усетих кога той обърнал се беше и зад мен застанал бе. Сложи ръка на рамото ми, а от допира му светът ми завъртя се. Исках го - там и тогава, но знаех, че не мога да го имам. А причината… причината не бе той, а аз. Аз и само аз. Но… уви, безсилна бях.
Обърнах се и спрях очите си на неговите. Кафявото ме успокояваше, привличаше ме, правеше ме щастлива. Без да усетя, ръцете ми по него плъзнаха се – от силните му рамене, надолу по тялото и послушно на кръста му спряха. Красив беше. Лунната светлина очертаваше правилните линии на лицето му, галеше леката руменина на страните му. Погледите ни събраха се; заключиха се в една неизбежна клопка – клопката на нашето приятелство. Не смеех да го доближа повече, а исках ли само! Но…
…той беше смел. Придърпа ме към себе си и ме пое в топлата си прегръдка. Затворих очи и осъзнах, че не искам този миг да свършва. Но трябваше… Отдръпнах се и отново погледа му улових. Безмълвно, той ръката ми в своята взе и двамата на пясъка седнахме. Един до друг... заедно.
Исках лицето му да докосна, косата му да погаля, устните му да целуна. Но колкото повече го желаех, толкова по-бързо разстоянието между нас растеше. Той не знаеше, но аз…аз – да! Нямах сили вече очите си на неговите да спра, красотата им да изпия, нежността им да погълна. Погледът си над вълните отпуснала бях, несигурна дали ръката си от пръстите му да изплъзна. Не можах…
И тогава, очите му върху себе си усетих. Исках да се обърна, но усилие ми костваше, и то голямо. Единствено вълните пред себе си виждах – водата им, обливаща тъмния бряг; пяната им, разсейваща се по мокрия пясък. И не знам кога, но ръката му върху лицето си усетих. Наведе се и бавно към себе си обърна ме.
Треперех. Безпомощна бях на погледа му да устоя. Усетих тялото му към мен да се приближава…О, как исках да отвърна! А не можех.
- Недей - прошепнах аз, осъзнавайки грешката, която правя. - Аз… не мога.
Той… той разбра ме. Отговорът в гласа ми разчете и на свой ред съжали; тъга в очите му изписа се. Но не се отдръпна. Продължи лицето ми с пръстите си да гали, а аз – пред красотата на кафявото му топях се.
И тогава той към мен наведе се, сантиметри само деляха ни. Не можах объркването си да скрия и очите ми със страх изпълниха се; страх от това, което следваше…
Познаваше ме добре. Следите на безпокойство той откри и с топъл поглед дари ме. „Разбирам”, сякаш шепнеше ми, „… довери ми се”. И аз… аз го послушах. Затворих очи и зачаках топлината на устните му върху своите. Невероятно беше. Неповторимо…
И двамата като едно бяхме… като цяло, а после постепенно един от друг отдръпнахме се. Усмивка лицето му озаряваше, а моето… на моето все онова раздвоено изражение стоеше, онова – колебаещо се между него и вълните…
Изправих се и ръка подадох му, за да стане и той. Поглед не отделяхме един от друг…Сълзи напираха в очите, но прикрих ги, за себе си оставих ги. И тогава, светът отново завъртя се, от транса наш като че ли бързо изпълзяхме…
- Приятели? - тихо попита ме той.
- Завинаги! - в отговор прошепнах аз.
Устните му потрепнаха и в нежна усмивка извиха се. За последен път, той взе ръката ми в своята и бавно поведе ме по пътя… онзи, който в тишина вече веднъж извървели бяхме…
