End of May 2018
Why do we fall in love, why do we decide to be with a completely different person?
You know Lucia? I never imagined being with a person different from you, I never imagined it and look at me, I shared a great stage of my life by your side.
I have been missing work, don't ask me why, in the end we all leave, just as you left, the neighbor in the apartment downstairs sees me differently, I don't know what it is, do you notice anything strange? I think she wants to ask me something, maybe she never will, it's probably something related to you, I guess you didn't even say goodbye to her.
I notice the house is different, you gave it that light, that happiness that I can't give it, that I would never give it in my life. I have thought of moving out of this building, well first I will wait for your return, not for you to stay, but for your things, which are many, your dresses and shoes, your books, your paintings and even your photographs, the photos stay with me, it was the only thing I really liked.
Where are you Lucia? What will you be doing? Will you think of me? Why me, yes I do and quite a lot, well you know how I am in this kind of things.
You left no trace in your wake, Lucia. I still remember the last kiss which I didn't know would be the last, all this already belongs to the afterlife.
Will you come back? Forgive me for all those mistakes I made, we weren't perfect I told you so many times. Maybe I deserve it, maybe I don't deserve it, what a shame.
Before I thought that you would always be mine, tell me how to forget these stories that I keep by your side. I'm not exaggerating Lucia I really need this unhappy love, I don't dream anymore Lucia now I die, I die for your damned departure.
How many times you told me you wanted a life together with me, come back at once, my heart is about to cry and I am indignant that this is possible, I don't care anymore. I hate myself and I love you.
Now I can no longer write, because nothing moves me to do so, everything except my love for you.
We are not what we used to be.
We are no longer anything.
Maybe I don't deserve to love you anymore.
Tell me if this is normal for you.
Photography by Ivan Terekhov
Psychologist by profession and a chaser of dreams and longings that will never come.