Wake up

"Wake up. I miss you. Wake up. I need you. Wake up. I love you."
Those were the first words she told him every day. Yet, she knew he wouldn't wake up.
He had been lying on the bed of the hospital for two years then, and the doctors had given up hope. Yet, she needed to say those words, like a mantra, waiting for him to wake up one day, telling her that it all had been a bad dream, comforting her in his arms, making her laugh again. But it was no bad dream, it was real life. And all that she had left was telling him that she needed him, that sje missed him, that she loved him. Knowing that there was no way she could move on while he was still breathing. Knowing that, even if he could not hear her, he needed her.
"Wake up." She wispered once again, her tears rolling down her face and landing on the pillow. "Wake up."
Yet, he lay there irresponsive, his dark eyes closed, connected to all those machines that were making sure that he was still alive. All that noise and that beeping that had become one with him, as once his voice was.
"I love you." She said kissing him. "I miss you."
And she left the room, knowing he would never ever wake up again, but not wanting to accept it.

Love

I wanted to write about love yesterday. Then I realized I can't write about love because I don't know anything about it. Every time I fall in love I have to go back to the start and learn from scratch. Every single time. Facing the same stuff every single time and not learning anything about it. Forgetting about it as soon as it is over. Thinking that I'm in loge when it is something else. It's time to face it, I know nothing about love. But it's never too late to learn.

Waiting

Waiting for the train to arrive. Waiting, always waiting. Waiting for her life. Waiting for love. As one waits for the train. As if things happened only because you waited for them. Never moving, always waiting. Not knowing that she was not in the right stop so her train was never going to pass by. Not knowing that you can't get on a life as you get on a train, that you need to run along to be able to catch your life.

Yet, she spent the whole life waiting and the only thing that stopped along was death.

Waiting for the sunrise

Today I've done something that I had never done before. It's something simple but magical. I waited for the sunrise. I do watch it lots of times while at work, I get there really early and, since it is next to the see we do get some spectacular sunrises.

Today, I got out to the terrace and waited there for more than 10 minutes. It was breathtaking. There were some clouds close to the horizon that became golden. Then slowly the sun began to emerge from the sea. It was pure magic. I just can't describe it with words.

Lucky

After the failure of her first marriage, love seemed something that only happened to others or in films. The break-up with Richard had left her hopeless, especially after she discovered that he had been cheating on her with some of her best friends. She thought she would never be able to rely on anyone else, that she would never find love again. Yet, there she was married for a second time and expecting a baby.

It had been hard for John to dig through the armor she had raised herself. She wouldn't rely on the new neighbor, she thought that he was like Richard: stupid and self-centered. But John did see that she had been hurt badly and that she needed time to heal her wounds, but that she also needed company. So, even if he had loved her from the start he was patient and waited for the right moment to arrive. He helped her to regain confidence and to open her heart to new experiences, and after some months she actually realized that she loved him.

She smiled while remembering all those months and the patience John had with her. And now she couldn't be more happy. She had learned the value of second chances, when she had never believed in them. She had learned to love again, when she thought she'd never be able anymore.

Happiness

The other day, I was asked to define what is happiness. Everybody thinks they know what is happiness, but if you've ever tried to define it, you'll find out that is hard, as hard as it can get.

First of all, everyone has their own definition of happiness, and what is good for someone can be wrong for someone else. Everyone finds happiness in different places, doing different things. So I guess that the only thing I can actually do is say what is happiness to me.

Happiness is when you do something that fulfills you, that challenges you intellectually. I know it sounds strange, but I know I wouldn't be happy if I had a job in which I didn't need to think, in which I didn't have problems to solve. I'd feel frustrated and undervalued, even if problem solving is stressful and tyring, I still find happiness in the tiredness and the stress.

Happiness is also a good book, the kind of book that you cannot stop reading, that you need to read even when you're walking down the street. Also, the kind of book that is so intense that makes you need to stop reading and think about it. Happiness is being on the train, unable to sit on a chair and sit on the floor so you can keep reading.

Happiness is being able to write, even if you cannot actually control what you're writing, because you're just channeling the flow between your imagination and the piece of paper. It is also missing your stop because you are so focused writing that you don't even know where you are anymore.

Happiness is that song that makes you smile, is that song that makes you cry, that song that makes you want to dance even if you're walking down the street.

Happiness is seeing the things through the lens of a camera, spending 3 hours in a place taking pictures just because you like the place. Is walking for hours and not even realizing it, because you're so mesmerised with the view that you just can't stop yourself.

Happiness is getting lost, is looking for something and not knowing how to get there so you end up going around discovering new things. It is getting lost in a museum and not caring about it.

Happiness is going to bookshops to check on new books and having to leave without buying anything because you are starting to have Stendhal's Syndrome. It is the smell of new books and the smell of old books.

Happiness is travelling to places, seeing new things at the pace you want. Eating other food, meeting new people who are going to be part of your life for a couple of days or even hours. It is trying to learn new languages.

Happiness is a cold winter morning, when it is so cold that the air is actually crispy, but it is also sunny so you can feel the sun warming your face. It is, also, a cool summer evening by the sea, with your feet in the water and the sound of the sea whispering secrets to you. It is a sunset and a sunrise. It is snow. It is a rainy day walking down the street without an umbrella and not caring about it.

Happiness is smiling. Smiling when you've got reasons to smile, smiling when you don't have them. Smiling from early in the morning to late in the evening. Smiling for no reasons at all, just because you feel like smiling.

Happiness is some words said out loud. Some small gestures. Some stares. Some things you'll never say, but you wish you did. Some feelings.

Happiness is having people who cares for you. Friends who are there for you and you can tell them anything you want. People you know that smile at you when you meet them. Family, even if they are sometimes difficult, they are happiness too. Happiness is having people you care for and you want them to be happy. People who want you to be happy.

Happiness is in the small things. In things that happen everyday, but you don't even realize. Things like the stars being up there or the leaves falling in Autumn. Or waking up on a weekend at your usual time and realizing that you didn't set up an alarm so you can sleep as much as you want. Happiness is waking up because the sunlight is coming through your window.

Happiness is waking up early, turning on the music and dancing. It is having chocolate for breakfast. It is your favorite dish when you are less expecting it. Happiness is a birthday cake.

Happiness is taking some time to cook something elaborate without any special reason. It is spoiling yourself.

Happiness is when you love yourself. And when you love someone else.

Happiness is stroking a dog or a cat. It is seeing kids at play. It is old people who love each other like the first day.

Happiness is going for a run in the forest. It is running downhill, it is stepping on ponds. It is feeling your legs getting tired, it is catching up your breath. It is taking a shower afterwards.

Happiness is staring through the window and seeing the lights of the city.

Happiness is the smell of the forest after a storm. The smell of clean sheets. The smell of the food your grandma used to cook when you went to visit her as a kid.

Happiness is the past, the present and the future. It is having all this. It is enjoying your life.

Happiness, sometimes, is about overcomplicating things that seem straight forward. It is about doubts and surprises. About unexpected things happening.

Happiness is about being mad at someone for a stupid reason and realizing it is stupid and fixing it. It is about knowing who you are and why do you do things.

Happiness is writing a 1,000 words essay about happiness.

A small step

All it took was a really small step, she didn't even need to jump, just walk forward and wait for the water to embrace her. But she was scared, she was afraid there would be rocks at the bottom, even if she knew there weren't because she had checked it herself. She had thought that jumping from the cliff, that actually jumping, would help her be more bold, less thoughtful, because in the end she ended up letting opportunities pass, when all that was needed was a small step.

Yet, as in life, she was staring at the horizon, feeling the sea wind caressing her skin, hearing the call of the sea, a call of love and understanding, getting warmed by the sun who was witnessing everything from above, wondering if the girl would actually jump. And, as in life, she was only one step away from the objective and she was holding herself back. For fear of doing something, for fear of doing something that would change who she was.

Then, she realized that she was just hurting herself, that no one actually cared about good or bad decisions, but on doing something, on taking profit of life. She breathed in deeply, took a couple of steps back and jumped to the sea.

The sea shallowed her, warm and comforting, like a long lost love, and she felt liberated from the burden of being unable to take decisions. She felt free and she felt wiser, she felt as if she had been reborn. All her fears were stranded at the top of the cliff, too afraid to jump with her, and now she had gotten rid of them forever.

She saw back to the shore and sat on the shoreline, the sea licking her feet and legs, comforting her and telling her how brave she had been. How she didn't need to be afraid anymore because, she had done the right thing.