Still I held the candle in my hand, which was long gone. I had not
recovered yet, from the pain that my dreams would remain un-lived, that my
hopes of living together and giving up possessions would not be fulfilled. It
was not possible. Not in this world. Not in this society. I sat there and the
rain fell regularly and steadily on me and my candle gone out. I had no
strength left to even raise my hand to give it over the flame. For what, even
if it made no sense, there was no way out and no turning away. That’s why I did
nothing but sit there in the rain, in the dark, disillusioned and exhausted, so
much so that I did not feel the cold and not the loneliness.
And all of a sudden, at the point where I had already lost all faith, even
my hopes, the rain stopped. I opened my tired eyes because I was surprised that
in the land of tears no more rain fell. So, I realized that this was not the
case at all, but only a screen had been stretched over me, a hand approached,
first my candle, to ignite it. And behold, she was burning. Only then did I
look down my arm until I found your eyes. You gently pulled me up to you, took
me in the arms, me and my candle. Mindfully, you went around with me and my
candle. I felt hope return and also dreams. Immediately I banished it to the
farthest corner of myself, fearing disappointment and rejection.
“Through the times and through the rooms, I
searched,” you finally spoke, so that my breath caught again. No, I was
not allowed to anticipate anything. You had not yet said what you were looking
for, because how many times had my premature conclusions been wrong, but there
were also your eyes, which fulfilled the same longing as mine. Or was it just
that I wished I could read them in it. I was dizzy at the thought of the
possibility.
“I was looking for a you whom I can be you
without it capturing me without me taking it,” you continued, and yet I
hesitated just to listen, “to a togetherness that lets me be in which I
may let go. A domination-free space in which we are each other, without
purpose, except to become more and more, without jealousy, permeated by the
only passion to breathe, to love and to be. The openness and freedom of a
desire to share. “
“Love is anarchy, domination-free space,
without over-or subordination, without specific role attribution or
appropriation. Nothing fixed and everything in the river, “I ventured now
but a push, gently, but no less determined. And I found a smile in your eyes.
“And so it is you who I searched through all
the times and spaces,” you confirmed to me, “I can hardly believe
that you exist, here next to me.”
“And I can hardly believe it,” I had to
admit, even though I knew it had known from the moment you cocked the umbrella
over me and relighted my candle. Nothing unspoken would ever stand between us
because we were allowed to be, in this togetherness that releases and does not
constrain, that lets one live and not condemned to lifelessness. It was like a
dream, and yet not a dream. I put my hand on your cheek. And our kiss was. And
our love was because it has always been, like life, strong and firm and
unshakeable, just because it demanded nothing but to fulfill itself. With every
breath. With every heartbeat. Born from this into each other to go out into the
world, with the certainty that gives us life. We have nothing to hide, nothing
to dissimulate, because everything is allowed, everything good, that drives us,
you and me. Because love is when it sets free or it is not. Love is anarchy.
Love is Anarchy (1): Spit the Heart
Love is Anarchy (2): Ment Heartstains
Love is Anarchy (3): Hearthead – Headheart
Love is Anarchy (4): Holding Tight
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