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2009-07-12 20:21
Tints of life
Your mood is ... blue. Smoke blue, not the bright one, that usually covers a summer sky. More like the heaven at nightfall or the time before a thunderstorm starts. Somehow auspicious, somehow dark. You choose the colour for your top.
You go there with Gordi, because it's nice to see him, because he is one of the few friends you've still got and want to spend time with. But like always, when the evening proceeds, you'll question whether it's a good idea to go partying with Gordi.
It's the same with sun blockers, they only work for hours and than you are at the mercy of the weather. But sun rays are merciless and so is he.
You are beautiful. I love to look at you.
Your are the one, you'll always be.
Which girl doesn't dream of a declaration like this? But it's worth nothing, when said by the wrong guy and he isn't the right one and will never be.
He won't understand what's so obvious... but sooner or later he'll put you to rout and than - when it's too late - he'll know and eventually understand what has been reality for some years now.

Thanks to a short text message a day ago, you knew that he also would be there. It was nice to hear from him, because it's nice to know that some people don't forget.
So two hours after the party has started, he is there. You sit on the couch and than - over a bunch of people - your eyes suddenly met. You know the smile that lifts the corners of your mouth, as you know his. For an instance you wrinkle your brows, because it is like it is and it shouldn't. It shouldn't be romantic or like prevision. It should be nicely normal to see him and doesn't conjure the feeling of two magnets that had to met, despite all circumstances.
He crosses the small distance and hugs you. Your last encounter was half a year ago, but you don't feel strange or uncomfortable. He's been a part of your life, you've a lot of shared memories and somehow you know, that - on a friendly level - you'll always feel comfortable around him.

Your mood is ... white. Like a blanket. Clean, somehow soft, untouched, innocent. Though you are nothing of it. Not soft, not untouched, definitely not innocent. Perhaps you are the opposite, at least you used to be. Today you are no longer crimson, but more like burgundy. It's the age, it's your experiences and past. It's your friends or in some matter the lack of them. It's your family and the way of life you've chosen.
You are no longer crimson…
Anyway, the colour of your top is white - like your mood - and though you aren't, you feel like there is a white canvas in front of you that only waits for a new chapter to start, some colour and models.
It's irritating to feel the transition, caused by an alteration that obviously has just happened in your mind. Your life is the same like it has been yesterday, but in some way you are wiser than a few weeks ago.
Anyhow, anyway, one thing is for certain - one thing is still the same: You can feel the magic, the attraction, the puff of energy that fulfils you when he's around.
And perhaps this is normal... perhaps it'll always be that way just for the reason what you've once been. Lovers. Not just in a physical way.
Perhaps it's extraordinary, not normal, but special. In this case... Well, for once - how do you know which variant is closer to reality, matches the truth? How do you know?
The answer is - you don't and you can't.
In the end, there is just one thing you can do. You enjoy the moment and his presence. You talk, about the past - not your combined past as lovers - but the past in which you've been friends and you talk about life… how it has been the last couple month.
You dance and you watch him like he watches you. Curiously, interestedly, observantly.
From time to time your hands will touch his arm, shoulder, grab for his hand. You will justify it as a normal gesture between friends, a part of the dance. Truth or lie?
Every now and then you will feel his hand on your hip and his fingers slightly twisting with yours, reaching for you.
For that short instance you will stop to breath and a thousand questions will simultaneously come up your mind.
None of them will be answered, but stay open.
You will go home at around four, because you've obligations that don't allow you to stay. You have to accompany somebody home.
Later you will go to sleep with just a few questions on your mind. For instance: Is it the same for him as it is for you? Does he also feel the shadow of attraction, magic and fervour you've once shared so passionately? Does he wonder about the same things you do?
None of that questions will be answered.
Anyway, when your eyes finally shut you think of a different time.

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unbekannt
21:38 13.07.2009
Hmm, ich finde es in Ordnung, wenn man sich in alten Zeiten wiedertrifft. Immerhin machst Du den Eindruck als könntest Du ihn heute anders einordnen als damals. Und Du weißt, wo Du hingehörst. Dann, wenn Du nach Hause kommst.

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00:54 13.07.2009
so viel vergangenheit, immer wieder zurück
ich denke, du brauchst einen anderen kontinent oder die insel, sonst wird es wohl lange noch nicht vorwärts gehen?
anglophon bist du ja, sicher doch auch anglophil?
Good luck!
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2009-07-12 20:21