Lin has gone, as always. He hasn’t been by my window for a few months. This interesting bond between a human and a bird, which may not even sound believable, is felt even in the furthest corners of my heart.
Ever since he left, I have had an incredible longing for the past that never goes away. I constantly remember the balcony of my childhood which was surrounded by the scent of geranium. The melody coming from the gypsy father and daughter walking the streets playing the accordion on Sunday mornings. Then the nights I hold my breath just to hear the violin sound coming from upstairs. And the ones I go out on the terrace and watch the falling stars while laying on the big cushions.
I’ve been feeling fine lately or I’m convincing myself that it is. Children who are not lifted when they fall have no choice but to stand upright, and they never will. That’s agreeable since I have no complain about it.
My dreams have become engrossingly absurd; a sense of deja-vu and endless time travel. It’s like the universe wants to tell me as if there is something I need to see, something that I cannot notice. However, the eyes do very well not to see when they just don’t want to.
Einstein said that the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind. Since Lin has been gone, it seems even more right. I have changed so much in the last few months that it seems improbable. I started to remove everyone who was not good for me and my mental health from my life. I learned to take time for myself, started painting and read books again as before.
And Lin,
Since you’ve been gone, I’ve understood.
The lack that I do not feel in your absence will turn into completion that will reside in my whole body when you are here.
It’s time to pull Icarus out of the sea where he fell.