Someday in autumn, 2022
Little girl,
I'm going to start writing you letters without a return address and with a cliche like a postcard so I can never deliver them to you. Telling you everything I feel at this point is just redundant and also scary. I'm afraid of angering you with my repetitions, or that they will make me see that, again, all this affection is only in my head. Still, I owe these lines to myself, and this honesty, to this feeling.
Every time I think of you, it smells like dawn, like tranquility. But if I express it, it is like opening my eyes to a silent room, to a brick wall, to my empty bed and to the routine of waiting for you to remember me.
I have written so much to you and I always come to the same conclusion: if I have you today, I don't need to think about tomorrow.
However, tomorrow always comes, and if you're not there, I'm not really sure if I should keep waiting.
What do I expect, little girl? Or will I spend my entire life searching, failing, and starting again?
Before you, there were several. Before me, too.
Could it be then that this crossing of destinies is nothing more than just that?
Could it be that I have to learn to let you go even when Aren't you mine?
The length of my poems and the length of my stay have always depended on you. Still, I don't want you to worry, you don't carry any responsibilities. Don't bother asking me either: you know well that I am already yours, and the day I stop being yours, I will be crossing the destiny of someone else under mere obligation.
If I were colder, I wouldn't be I would be here.
But my impatience clung to your eyes and my passions to your hands. Every detail takes or motivates my breath (sometimes for better, sometimes for worse).
I try to convince myself that we were just a coincidence, little girl, one of those that you don't want to let go. That if it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. If it hadn't been me, the same.
Ultimately, this is where I find myself. In the silent room with brick walls. And this is where I wait for you. My days have been summed up in that. I wait for you, and I hope you are on the other side, waiting for me too.
If you already plan to be on your way to being someone else's match, I won't hold a grudge. If you're tired of waiting, like me, look out.
Just look out.
Look for me between these little reddish holes.
Listen to all these promises that I swore never to make again.
Feel the confinement turn into sand.
And when you find me, Look at me for a second, think about me for the rest of your life.
Little girl, are you there?
