February 28th

I miss you.

There's a hole in me. I miss you even though I shouldn't, even though I had finally given up.

I had found peace before I read your words, before I justified your silence, my absence.

Your voice is still here but your body isn't.

You live far away, far away from me, somewhere in the world, somewhere in this town which isn't mine and which bears the marks of you and contains you in its landscapes and its streets.

I listen to you sing.

You don't talk anymore.

I don't rush you.

I don't look for you.

I forget you peacefully.

I'll find peace again despite the void, if I learn to be patient, if I take the time to heal and move on without you.

I like the words which you inspire me but I'd like us to write together, to throw the dice again, to start the game again. I'd like us to forget this world which isn't helpful, which is killing us every day, which is but an ally.

Help me again so that I can stand such a world.

It makes me anxious, empty, and draws the energy you gave me.

Give me more bits and pieces of you.

Let me steal them if you're not brave enough to share them.

We're not done yet.

I speak the language we invented, however unintentionally, through our adventure.

Forget the destination, join the journey.

Let's go back to the world we created.

I like how beautiful it is, how authentic and naive it is.

**

I can feel your fear of heights, the nothingness under my feet, in my stomach and my head.

I can feel the loss, the lack of landmarks, of goals and boundaries.

I can feel the space, the tasteless days which all look alike, which bear nor hope nor expectations.

I can feel the time, the bland and cold time going by without bringing any surprise, any obstacle.

I can feel the wait for an end which isn't coming.

I can feel the « nothing », the « nevermore », the infinite stretching in front of me as far as my eyes can see.

I can't see the end because I'm already there.

I'm walking in its steps.

We are our own end.

We bear it in us.

We don't have any more expectations since we cross out our « everything », all our possibilities, all our encounters.

Everything is now behind us.