Life is too short for boring stories

Inspired by Kieran Halpin “I will remember love”

Do you remember, at the very beginning, this beginning of us both, this beginning of you and me, where everything was new and exciting. This beginning, since every sunrise was once more special than anyone we had experienced before, and every flower was even more intense, smelling and radiant than ever in our lives. This beginning, when the look is transfigured and the whole world re-emerges, in your and my gaze. This beginning, which seems like a second birth. A new life, in the middle of the known. A new beginning. A new life. A new heaven and a new earth. This beginning, since we always found time to talk and to keep silent. This beginning, since nothing was too hard to see each other or to chat. This beginning, since this trouble was easy. This beginning, when we felt free and indifferent, free in our affection and in our coexistence. This beginning, of which we thought it would never end. To the limits of infinity and much more. This beginning. Do you remember?

Meanwhile, many years have moved into the country and this beginning, which I still think of, now with a little nostalgia, comes into ever more distant. Many commitments determine our lives, those imposed on us, and those we have imposed upon ourselves. Work to support the livelihood. Leisure activities, in which we also usually go separate ways. There were, of course, the children. But they are already big. It’s no longer an excuse. And there is fatigue. Perhaps also the certainty that there will be a new day, and that this does not necessarily have to be today. It can be moved. Tomorrow we will still be there. I am tired today. But tomorrow. Maybe.

Nothing happened except that we were able to reach the normal life and let ourselves be reached. Perhaps it would only be necessary to devote a little more energy to taking up trouble which now seems to be so infinitely difficult. Where has the lightness disappeared? At what point have we lost our powers, so that we can do only the most necessary? Where have we lost sight of?

It would not be so difficult. A few minutes only to sit outside on the terrace and tell of what the day brought with it or at the fireplace. To turn off the TV for a few minutes. For a short time, put the book on its side. But it does not fit. Maybe tomorrow.

The flowers bloom as always, sunrises follow on sunsets, without our attention. The world is back as it always was. Perhaps a bit duller and gloomier than before, before experiencing the blossoming. But I can also deceive, because it is a long time ago.

But perhaps I should just take you by the hand again and pick up from this life that threatens to bury our love and stifle it, to a place not too far, and yet quite different just to see if it is possible. The world is once again to be seen as to that beginning at that time.


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