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Onward affection


What day was it again today? I don’t want to remember, even if someone told me. I’d rather stay here, pinned down to the floor, watching as the ceiling changes seasons.

She is gone. There. Across my balcony. Closer than two colliding quarks, farther than infinity. And i was the one who chased her away, but i guess that’s just how the paradox of love works: the deeper you love, the lonelier you become. Two hearts will never become one. Like in nature, there will always be one dominating the other. Suffocating until extinction. You can’t love too little, you can’t love too much. Otherwise love falls apart or it suffocates into nothingness. At least in the former you are rewarded with a broken heart. You have something to regret, something to remember, something to cry over, something to learn from. But we learn too much. The next time we fall in love, we slingshot in the opposite direction. Loving too deeply, giving our all until all we have is nothing left of us. And then there’s nobody there to perform even a basic CPR on us. Or they might do a pulmonary resuscitation, but for the cardio part, they have no solution. We are still somebody, we are alive but we walk around without an ounce of love in us. That’s the moment when we go through the painful process of mimicry. We read books, watch movies, look around at happy couples and for a split second we delude ourselves into thinking that we can love again. No. We can pour all the love in the world into a broken heart and by the end it will still be empty. It feels nice as the love of others washes the insides of our rotting hearts. It gives us hope. False hope, which in turn throws us into an even deeper and darker abyss when we are alone. But that is something good because among all the bad and the dark a broken heart brings with it, there is beauty to be found. True, raw and unending beauty, for that heart will never be whole again. I would rather listen to the stories one broken heart can tell, than read one thousand books on the meaning of life. And yet here i sing, with my own broken heart, a tale for her, a tale of her which will never come to pass. It will only linger in the air, between my balcony and hers until it will plummet to ground and be forgotten.

She was hurt and i am too. How could two broken hearts sing the same tune? And even if not the same, what chaotic music would they play together? It would destroy the gentle peace between the balconies. Who can say what the right measure of love is? Nobody. We were doomed to fail from the beginning. Still, we play on. As destructive, chaotic and maddening as it is, we enjoy basking in the falsehood of belonging. We may walk together crippled, but we still walk. We still live. Imperfect to the very foundation, we try. And fail. And try again. And fail again. Try again and… succeed. Over time, a pattern will be formed, something unique to every couple. I think, that is deep love: when as an individual, you are utterly broken from heartache, close to madness and while carrying all the baggage of your past, you still manage to care for a stranger and enjoy their company unconditionally, while they themselves are doing the same thing onto you. Falling in love at an old age with someone who is the same as you is very hard, close to impossible, but i believe there is a depth in the middle which we can’t even begin to understand.

I sighed for a second and got up from the floor. This self introspection made me realize that not everything was lost. June was still there and i wanted her. That was it. Whatever words were said between us, i didn’t cared anymore. So i went to her and knocked at the door. She opened. “What do you want?”, she asked with an annoyed tone. Even though we weren’t living in Japan, i felt the need to bow. Not on my hands and knees because that would’ve been too much. “I want to apologize to you for all the demeaning things i’ve said to you. If you think you can forgive me with time, that would be wonderful, if not, i completely understand and accept your decision.” I remained bowed. “What are you doing? What is this display? I feel uncomfortable. Raise your head.” I did as she told. I stood there looking at her with a serious expression without uttering a word. “I think you know that what you said hurt me deeply. I may forgive you now, but only with time will i be able to forget.” I nodded slightly and said: “I think it’s best if i leave now.” She grabbed my wrist. “Before you go, come here.”, she said, before removing the satin robe from her shoulders and revealing her naked flesh underneath. She snagged me inside her apartment and closed the door behind me, kissing me like i had been gone an eternity.


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