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Life is too short for boring stories

Diana had longed so badly for something to hold on to, a safe haven and someone to listen to her, to be there for her to let go and be weak. After all the years of struggling through life on her own, being there for her two children and having to support herself. For them, …

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Of all the nights that I woke up and went back to sleep, there were very, very few in which I was truly lonely. Not just alone, but lonely, like an outcast who no longer even finds a connection point to a you in my mind, whose isolation consists not only of a physical, but …

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I was so sure, so, so, so, so sure or was I just as sure as I am sure of myself, always just so vaguely? No, I was absolutely sure, as sure as I could be, that the moon would rise again the next evening, as sure as I could be sure that it would …

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You’re right, of course, it’s been a long time. If I try to remember now, it is as if a whole life would lie between the time when you were you to me and the today when you stepped out of which you left me as an empty shell of you. And isn’t that really …

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Prepare to you a place to return to when life has drained you, then you will find a pillow to bed yourself down and a blanket to warm you, then you will find peace and quiet and space to breathe. Prepare myself to you as the place to which you can return when the superficial …

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„Du musst Dich rüsten“, höre ich mich sagen. Eine letzte Umarmung noch, bevor wir uns verabschieden müssen. Ein letztes Mal noch ineinander verwoben und zurückfallen lassen in die Unbeschwertheit und Sorglosigkeit. Ich will es nicht denken, dass es einen Abschied geben kann. Ich konnte es nicht denken, dass es ein Ankommen geben konnte.

When you left, the pain came. A coming and going. You gave yourself the handle. I don’t know if it was unexpected, just that I literally fell out of the clouds. You just mentioned what we should do together. Deferred. Always postponed.„But not canceled,“ you said every time you canceled a meeting, „don’t think I …

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She carefully places the book on the bedside table, extends her arm and extinguishes the light, because he has fallen asleep, in her arm, his head on her shoulder. She resists the impulse to run her fingers through his hair as if that were enough to wake him up. He breathes calmly and evenly, finally …

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You get used to it. Onto had become part of our little family because we had become familiar, met and accepted each other in our respective so-being. „Just as you are,“ I said to myself,“ to supplement immediately, „and will become. In the one in which you are constant and in the one in which …

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The morning looks like every morning. That getting up was not easy for me, it has always been that way, I got used to it and take it, like the drizzle that knocks on the windowpane. Almost tender, but it’s the time when I’m too busy with myself to notice anything. Quite banal stuff. Put …

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