Birthday eves and years of change

 It has already been a year since my last birthday post. I am aware that that is how birthdays work, but... well... it's been a CRAZY year. This year I dear to look at last year's post, I remember I was in fucking freezing Amsterdam when I wrote it. But you don't care about that, do you? Let's recap (insert "On previous episodes" here).

Last year I started talking about the concerts I went to, however, this year... well I was supposed to go to two concerts, but we know what happened. So zero concerts for me. Then I talked about my trips, well, I started my 32nd year on earth in Amsterdam, so I got to go there, and then I went to Zagreb for almost two weeks for work and I soaked in the Christmas spirit that overflowed from the city. Then I went home for Christmas to meet and annoy my parents' new kitten, and on a whim, I went to celebrate my mom's birthday in February. And then we all know what happened. I am lucky enough to not be that far from my family, but still, it wasn't easy to go there and I didn't see them again until I went to spend some days with them during their vacations in the south of France. Before that, I also did a short writing retreat to write a paper in Bretagne and discovered how beautiful it is. I managed to go home again at the end of September to spend some time with my friends, my family, and the cats. Right now, I was supposed to be home, to celebrate my birthday with my family, however, although international travel is not banned, we decided that it was better if I didn't go. But again... 2020. I also got two new tattoos, one during a flash day and another that had to be rescheduled and is my first color tattoo ever (probably not the last). And I am writing a paranormal LGBTQIA+ romance novel, so there's that. Oh, and absolutely ALL the movies, confinement is hard, but if you can't go out at least you can bring the outside to you. 

Socially, it's been... I don't know how to say it. I feel like this situation has brought everyone together and has led to hours spent in front of the computer screen, avoiding crowded spaces, and just staying indoors altogether. But something that could have been insufferable, has actually been enlightening and has helped me be more conscious of my rhythms and to listen to what my body and my mind need. Which leads to the next part, I guess. 

Earlier this year I made the huge step of seeking help for my mental health, and I am happy to say that I feel so much better right now. In fact, if a year ago you had told me that I would be this well, considering the whole situation, I would have laughed on your face. And I have to thank myself for taking that step, but I also have to thank the incredible people who have been there for me, holding my hand in the distance, listening to me, asking me how I was feeling. I don't think I will be ever able to repay them for what they have done for me. It's people I love deeply in one way or the other, and that will always have a piece of my heart.  

Salt

Long hair getting tangled on the wind. A blue eye. White teeth behind deep pink lips. Blue on blue, sea and sky. Skin getting tan under the salt. Those are all the memories I have left of you. Snippets of times when we were happy. When you were here. 

I don’t want to remember why you left or when you did it. I don’t need those memories. I only need the memory of us by the sea and the salt on your lips. 

This dark room

I wake up, it's dark still. I have my eyes half open, caught in that state between dream and wakefulness. I turn on my bed, as I have done a thousand times before. Yet, there is something new. There is someone that catches me by surprise. There she is. Still. There she is. Again. She has been here for more than a hundred nights and, yet, it always surprises me. Every single morning, I expect to wake up to find my bed empty. Every single night, I think that I have dreamt of her, that she was never there to start with. I carefully touch her arm, as if she were a mirage that could banish as soon as reality surfaces. Her skin is warm, slightly damp from sweat on this hot summer night. My eyes have gotten used to the total darkness of the room and I start to see her silhouette, her short hair plastered to her forehead, her eyes fluttering under her eyelids deep into REM sleep. I wonder what she is dreaming of. I wonder if it will be one of those nights when she will remember about her dream and tell me about it in the morning while she drinks her coffee. She breathes softly, her crooked nose making the air whistle a bit. She is very self-conscious about that, she must have told me a thousand times to wake her up if she is being so noisy. I don't care. Her lips are parted and I can see her teeth between them. I know that if there was more light I could see her freckles, but I will have to imagine them. I am tempted to caress her face, trace the line of her nose, of her mouth, burn in my memory the feeling of her skin. Because I am not sure if she is not going to disappear one of these days. 

She mutters something in her sleep and then smiles. Her smile, even in a dark room, fills my heart with light. I find myself smiling in return an automatic response I can't seem to control. She shuffles, I wonder if she can feel me staring. I get closer to her and hug her loosely. Even sweaty she smells good, I don't know how she does it. But again, whenever I complain about how I smell, she smiles and tells me not to worry, that she loves it. I bury my nose on her hair and kiss her on the neck, softly. Still asleep, she shifts closer to me, our curves locking together in place, my breasts softly cushioning her spine. At this moment there isn't anything else in the world than my skin on her skin and her soft breath filling the room. At this moment I don't worry about her disappearing. There is only me and her and this dark room.

Love letter to no one

Love,

We haven’t met, maybe we never will. I don’t know who you are and you don’t know me. And yet, here I am writing you a love letter. A love letter to the void. I do not expect the void to love me back. After all, we do not pick when or who we fall in love with. It just happens, all at once or so slowly that we don’t realize it until it is too late to go back. 

Love is a funny thing, isn’t it? Here I am loving the concept of love, not knowing if you even exist, but loving you anyway because that is what my heart has decided to feel. And although we may never met, I will feel your arms around me during long winter nights, your laughter in the breeze, your perfume in each and every one of the flowers I small, your caresses in the warmth of the sunshine. And now and then I will send a kiss with the wind with the hope that sometime, someplace, it will reach you. 

Yours, 

S