Life is too short for boring stories

“I need you,” you say to me.
It scares me when you say that.
I do not want you to need me, but I want you in freedom and independence.
“Do not you need me?” you ask me
“No, I do not need you,” I reply.
It scares me if you ask that.
I do not want that I need you, but I want myself in freedom and independence.

“Do you love me?” you ask me
“Yes, I love you,” I replied, because it is true and correct.
“Would you tell me if you did not love me anymore?” you asked relentlessly.
“Yes, of course I would tell you. But you would not ask me, because you would notice it, I think. Or I’ll step in front of you in the case and say: I’m sorry-so at least I suppose I am sorry, it’s a pity, if love goes away-but anyway, I’m sorry, But I do not love you anymore. Should it look like this, in your opinion?” I reply.
“Why are you so fucking hard and cold? Besides, I have not thought about it, and I do not even want to think about it, I want it to remain so that I love you and you me. But, it may be that you are now gently preparing for something, that you will not love me soon because you do not need me now, because you can live quite well without me because I am in yours Life does not matter,” you throw me.
“How far you can run, where your thoughts are already abducting you. I love you, and when it is different, it is different. I cannot know and you cannot know. But now, now I love you. I wish you were with me without forcing you. You play a role in my life without me wanting you to have your life in which you can unfold. I do not want you to need me, because you can be without me. I do not want you, because I can live without you. Nobody says that life is not so heavy or empty, but it is livable. I want you to be in all facets, with all passion, in all your willingness, in all openness, I want you to be,” I reply thoughtfully.
“So you do not want to bind yourself?” you ask.
“I do not want it because I’ve already done it, but in the band that connects me to you is a loop that you can solve at any time. Tied but not manacled. Interwoven, but not chained. Loved, but not bought,” I answer accordingly.
“And if I solve the stitch? When I open the binding?” you ask further.
“Then the tape and the possibility to tie the stitch again. Then, if you want that, then I will let you go and wish that you are well, wherever you go, that you have grown in the We and gladly remember that you remain the love that is in us that you stay,” I reply innocently.


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