Life is too short for boring stories

I saw you, last night, I saw you. The moon was already high. The clear, mild full moon. summer full moon. Sometimes it can crush you, in the summer. Not this night. Maybe it was the moon and something else. I got up, slipped my nightgown on the floor and quickly threw on something light and airy, suitable for the night, because it was hot before I went to the window and my eyes caught the sky, as always. I always look to the sky first. There’s something stabilizing about him. Nothing changes. Yes, of course, the constellation of the Ordinary Circle, but it’s such a slow, manageable change that it’s almost possible to speak of stability. At least that’s how it seems to me, and that’s what I’m looking for. She calms me down.

Only then did I let my eyes wander further, towards the pastures. The branches swayed gently in the wind. A light breeze, for it was very hot, despite the late hour, would do well, but the merry-go-round seemed to be moving too. It was as if someone had just spun it and jumped off while the movement was not complete, so that it spun on its own. But who, who is using my carousel? And the gaze moved on. Was the grass a little trampled down, as if someone had just walked over it? Had the flower stepped aside? Was it all just my imagination? The lake lay clear and tempting in front of me and there was nothing to mar the smooth surface. There, a stone fell, and finally my gaze reached the lake. The moon was gentle and soft and hid more than it revealed, and yet I recognized you. Just a silhouette, a black flowing silhouette. It could have been anyone roughly the same build, and yet I knew it was you. I would have recognized you among thousands.

How long has it been since I last saw you? It seemed to me a long, infinitely long time, and yet you were unmistakable, you had burned yourself into me so much. It couldn’t be otherwise. Just now that I had given up, had almost given up thinking that it could be, right now you were there and the first impulse was to start running, light and airy like the dress I had thrown on, the first impulse, yes I didn’t follow it. I stopped and looked at you from afar, hoping you hadn’t seen me yet, vacillating between wanting to sit down there with you on the jetty and letting me tell you and the fear that the moment would come again since you’re going, who knows how long. Wavering because the happiness would be so great and the pain even greater. Wavering, because maybe it was just an illusion, this picture of you, but it stayed, and I couldn’t be wrong. Not with you. But if you were there and if we had the opportunity to spend a night together, then I should seize it, because just one night of togetherness in peaceful, quiet surrender weighs thousands of nights of waking and waiting. If we had just one evening together, yes just one moment, versus thousands of being apart, even then it’s the one moment worth having, because it’s called ours. So, I ran to you as fast as I could, because who knows, maybe I had already missed that one moment. Maybe I missed it. But whatever it was, whatever it was, I ran to you because I recognize you.



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