My thoughts always return to the moment when you entered my life.
Actually, you have been in my life before, but before that moment which I remember, you were just someone.
I am reliving the moment that you stopped being just someone and became more to me.
I have to think of those months when the weather is still cold, but the sun is already golden and the sunset passionate.
I have to think of your words reaching me.
I have to think of spending a tired afternoon in my old bedroom in my mother‘s apartment with my old cat Johnny curled up next to me.
I remember voices of people I love, only one wall away.
I remember laying there in my bed next to a purple wall, my backpack already packed.
I thought I would be back in a few weeks, so when your words reached me, I was curious about the adventure that would lay between me leaving and returning next month.
As soon as we began to talk, my thoughts abandoned our conversation, and pictured bodies sinking into each other. I wanted to make love to all those thoughts you sent to me.
I could not imagine that this would never happen. We were two adults drawn to each other, ready to sink into each other and burn for each other. We were sure. We were not yet broken in a way that would get into the way of things.
I remember smiling dreamfully, while giving my old cat a kiss on his forehead, just like I had taught him ten years ago, when I was still a teenager and Johnny‘s cat-loving-goth-girl best friend.
While thinking of you, I was having tea with my mother and then was taking a walk, and your words reached me again when I was standing next to an old church where I had once enjoyed one of my first sips of wine when I was 16 and was wearing black and I fell for all those words you sent me.
I was so sure about you.
I was so sure about my world.
I had found you dreaming on my bed with my beloved Johnny next to me, as I had once dreamed of living my life when I was younger.
I fell for dreaming of you like that.
You came into my world when it was whole, when I had spent a week doing things that I loved with people that I cared about.
You found me when I was myself and happy, and every core of my being responded to you.
I remember the joy that sparked through my body while thinking of being seen by you, and recognized and touched by you.
It felt good.
I left my home, expecting to find you.
My skin felt softer, my hair longer, my eyes rounder.
You were the answer to things I dreamed of at night on the meadow behind that old church when I was 16 years old and had a pierced nose and felt the desire to live.
And then the world collapsed.
You would have loved the me I was, and I enjoy the memory of you in a place I cannot ever go again.
I am not so sure if you would love the me I am now. Pain has ripped me apart and brought back the black clothes and the wine.
But then again, why do I even wonder about this? The world does not grant us a chance anyway.
Mistress witch writes 