you know, esme,

when I saw your name popping up after I had clicked on “accept” or something, I had heatflashes racing my body. I havent’t felt so bad, so guilty for quite a while.

maybe it had been about time.

I am so sorry about this yahoo thing. I was checking out this new feature, but with business emails on the other office screen, my agenda on the notebook and the TV set on, I definitely was overextending my abilities.

is yahoo ironic?

maybe yes, I don’t doubt anything easily on the net.

maybe it was only was meaning well – which normally means that those actions end in disaster.

please, feel free to un-connect me, if you feel like it. and if yahoo permits it.

wishing you all the best (and meaning it),

m.

ps: the day will come. I am looking forward to it.

12-30, 12:57

bollocks!!!!

this whole new yahoo this is a hell of a trouble!! i dont know how to work it…

have just accepted some kind of a request from you to see “mick and esme are now connected” on my screen …

… do you think yahoo is being ironic…? _)))

many thanks for your respond though

i have only found it here tonight… i can now breath out

whatever makes you happy, whatever you want but i do hope the day will come anf we ll talk

e.

12-28, 19:57 pm

yahoo’s laconic message: “mick and esme are now connected”.

picture this. just picture this! shock is a mild expression for what I felt that very second.

esme

one of these days we should do that. just a walk, and some talk, like we’ve done before.

it took me a while to accept that this we had only been alive in our pink bubble in a restaurant over the river, and on a wooden bench with the backrest then yet unbroken, and in a guest house. in a dream we were trying to dream into reality.it took me weeks, and a trip back east. I can recall sitting on the warm steps under three crosses on a hill staring up at the blue, and the blue staring back. I can recall the foothills of silence there, the overture.

you were right then. that I know now. that is why I don’t know whether breaking that silence is a good idea. but what do I know about good ideas anyway.

it took me a long time to find the peace of mind to answer you, and I have fought with myself fiercely whether to answer at all, I have struggled to find the right words. if there are any right words.

but next time we’ll meet, we’ll have a coffee, and a walk. and a talk, one of these days.

maybe not tomorrow. or the day after tomorrow. but one of these days, when silence no longer has to cushion the sound and the fury erupting from mad thoughts and weird dreams.

yours,

m.

ps: sunday 14th was just an ordinary day for me. I woke up with you on my mind, just like every day while, and many days since. I had learned to force myself to quickly kiss you good-morning and then walk away briskly from that thought without turning back.

07-02, 08:46

i need that and i am endlessly sorry

to begin with. again. i’m sorry

that night on the 14th of june when i was about to turn 24  i had a dream.

i was sleeping alone in some random bed in some random guest house. in v. … not that random i guess.
you were there. the dream i mean. and it was so clear and so dull! because i could not talk when you were sitting opposite to me. we were in an old cab

i was looking at you unable to even open my mouth to make a sound and you were holding my both hands just to let me know it was alright.

you were not talking to me not to force my useless attempts to speak because you knew i couldnt… so we were just two silent handholders looking each other in the eyes.

in an old cab…you know the ones where back seats face one another. i’ve never been in one how figure. but even now i can actually feel the smell of it…

i woke up the next morning loving you with my all heart for your silence which i so desperately wanted to break that night in an old cab… and i couldnt.

you have chosen silence to comfort me
you have chosen silence to stand by me
you have chosen silence to join me in it

my partner in crime, my dark knight

by the power vested in me by ability of speech i now break the silence

it took me almost a year and an imaginary night in an old cab to do that and i swear i do not expect things to be any different from now on

i just hope that next time we will be walking in a field on a cloudy day… i want us to be talking then.

n.

p.s. maybe my sore and spotted brain came up with another paranoia, and all you wanted to say to me that night in a cab was simply ‘happy birthday’..?

06-19, 01:57

shadow and light

in the afternoon, life came to a standstill. out of nowhere, her name popped up on the screen. the curse of yahoo, where you see when your contacts are online. also shows your nomorecontacts, unfortunately.

seeing those two words gave my heart a good squeeze. life slowed down, focused on one spot on the mail website. and there it was again, everything, in the blink of an eye.

it took me a while to start blinking again. I took a deep breath. I got lost in the two words on the screen I learned to love, then. it’s been almost a year. it’s been only one day after esme’s birthday. as if I wouldn’t know it.

I’ve been thinking about her a lot these days. too many things surfacing, hinting at her , secretly, or shouting her name quite frankly.

- commercials for cheap flights to V. in my mailbox.

- her name (that is, not her very name, but the name of an ex-colleague with the same name though slightly different in spelling) on a website I had to work with.

- an interview about what I had done in the past where I couldn’t help talking about V. with the result that the interview went a little astray because I couldn’t get my mind away from esme.

then, esme was online today. what happened? did she forget to sign on as “invisible”? did she consciously sent a message to me? and what message could that be?

“it was my birthday yesterday, remember?”

I don’t know. and yes, I did remember it was your birthday yesterday. I woke up with this thought, and I wished you a happy birthday at 0630 in the morning. I held your face in my hands, and I looked you in the eye, and I said, “happy birthday, my love”, and I gave you a kiss on your lips, and they felt soft and yielding.

I wish you all the best, esme. please forgive me for not sending a card.

blue night temptations

The cold won’t yield. There is no sign of spring, no hint it will ever come. The sky changes its color, but it fades from darker grey to lighter, and back. The sky looks like myself, torn inside out.

Yet, there had been sun. Some weeks ago, in India. And color.    It had taken me a while to get used to this country. Not to the heat. I am used to heat. I love stale air, the feeling of beads of sweat rolling across my skin. I like it when my shirt sticks cold to my back.

But India is more than heat, heat in a physical sense. It is a heat that wraps your mind. Wraps it like a giant onion with skins and skins made of sound smell dirt color voices shapes masques textures faces moves textiles beauty taste eyes waves

There was no interpreter. I was talking and teaching in English, and it went well. Esme was with me, every day. I was looking into hazel eyes, framed by long black hair. I found depth and vertigo. I did not find Esme. I say light brown skin and dark, naked toes, white smiles. I did not see Esme.

I closed my eyes. She was with me. Far away, on an island, she lives, and loves. Here, I live, and love her.

what can you do when being infected with this kind of love desease? nothing. that’s how it feels. no matter what I tried, nothing blew your face out of my system, nothing killed the touch of your hand, nothing cut your kisses out my brain.

at least I am immune against something. those bloody germs some days ago really got me good.

2009, hum? what can I say? come here if you dare, and take what is left of me.

three more weeks, and I’ll be off for India. another series of lectures.

this time, far east.

this time, two weeks.

FATE, DON’T YOU DARE!

looking back, the plane truth is easy to see

the end of a year, be it calendrical or personal, not only reminds me of death. it has the same feel and taste. and, as death, it cannot be avoided.

the questions for me are: where am I? what have I done to deserve this? and, basically: who am I – and if yes, how many?    

never ask yourself questions like that without a sufficient amount of red wine. behind, not before you.

when I look back at what has happened during the 360something days that have passed this year, I don’t feel nothing. I don’t feel nothing because when you feel everything, you finally end up feeling nothing.

I was blessed and cursed. blessed by the love of the most wonderful woman on earth. cursed by my inabilty to get to grips with the situation.

I had found love. love as love should be, pure, deep, overwhelming. the real mccoy. and I lost it, and I deserved to lose it, it was right, for my love it was right so that she can live on.

at least, that’s what I keep telling me myself day after day. and even now, months after her last sms, even more months after we had kissed our final kiss, there is not a single day when Esme is not on my mind.

not a single day.

merry christmas, esme.

merry christmas.