Loving you, loving me: poem

I wrote this poem sometimes agao, after a period of time I was having terrrible nightmare and sleeplessness.

Actually this poem was put to music by my ex and together we won first prize at a music competition (Jugend Komponiert 2002, Berlin/Brandenburg).

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A DIRGE TO CHILDHOOD

It is that time to write like mad.

I should be sleeping

But I do not feel like it,

As if I fear the next time

I am awake, I open my eyes

Will be a world of trouble,

A place of sudden sorrow.

There’s no turning back,

Not at this moment,

Not at this time.

Where the sun slowly sets,

Darkness looms and lives

In the forever green forest.

What an exciting journey it be!

Onwards, forwards, towards

The days of hope, the nights of peace.

Memories wave across the sacred land

With the blue tide and ebb

Of dried eyes and coloured dreams.

Bitter, bright, sour and sweet,

So taste the branches of tree of life,

So sounds the grassy breath,

So smells the flowery song.

But behind the very veil of time,

Hide the shadows of deep secrets,

Prowls the greying, echoing winds

Of change and coldness.

It is a mask I wear,

So solid and so safe

Like an armour and a sword;

For I am invincible,

I am fearless and I am brave.

But inside, somewhere

You know deep inside,

A face is clouding,

Howling, thundering, moaning,

A child is crying.

Loving you, loving me: the school

Several pillars that stretched like an invisible line across the
canteen more or less divided the space into two realms. It acted like some sort
of invisible `curtain' that separated students in the lower from the upper
classes. (Ch 5)

It was a five storey block of concrete adorned with brownish-yellow brick stone,
probably built in the sixties. I always thought when they built the hideous
thing they must have somehow managed to smuggle in architects from the former Eastern Bloc to oversee the design. Other students simply referred it as `The Tombstone'. (Ch8)

As soon as I entered the building I headed straight to the basement where the
lockers are located. Everyone received a key at the beginning of the term to one
of the many little red lockers that lined the walls of the basement. (Ch 8)

The aula was never a place the school thought needed heating, since it was
so large and empty, and rarely used, except for the occasional drama sessions,
like today’s. (Ch 9)

 

Having a ball

French men like to play with balls...



They do it in public places like parks and squares, and thoroughly enjoy it.
Women too I guess. 

Picknick in the park: what happened

The more mundane stuff of what we did, you can read here.

Well, happily that guy did show up for the picknick. And most of the time I talked to him, since he was probably the only one I could really talk to and had anything worth saying. All the others were girls, and I didn't really have much in common with any of them...

OK, admittedly I talked to the guy more because probably deep down inside I was thinking "Perhaps..."

Certainly the uncertainties surrounding his sexuality made him all the more interesting. He's good-looking, smart, a stylish yuppie...the only 'down-side' (if you can call it that) is that he's around 14 years older. It's been a long while since I met someone I could really talk to and with whom I had much in common. We could joke and talk about all sorts of things, share experiences of travels and things we did througout life. It's not easy, really not, for me to meet new people, so I enjoyed the chance that was given.

It was late when the picknick ended, and he drove my mother-friend and me home. It just so happens that there was a light show in town, and just before I got out the car I not-so-innocently mentioned that I'll be going out again to watch that. Of course, deep down I half-hoped that he would go along with me...and he actually did. Not only that, we walked around the city a bit, and he gave me a little personal tour as well. It was beautiful, almost unspokenly romantic.

By the time he drove me home again, it was after midnight, and we were both really tired. It was sort of awkward saying goodbye, and for one or two moments we sat in the car, not sure what to say. Then he suggested that I go over to his place the next day, and gave me his address and contacts. As he drove away, he waved back a couple of times, and so did I.

I was thrilled, and my hormone-driven imagination ran wild the whole night, keeping me awake...and with the baby crying and being restless, I only managed to get like four hours of sleep...

But I wasn't tired as I went to his place the next day.

What happened next was all very innocent. We just chatted and shared more life experiences at his place, and 'connected' a bit more. Then he suggested we go on a drive together, and we made our way into the rolling countryside. And the rest of the day, it stayed pretty much innocent too.

We talked about all sorts of things, but never once did we touch upon 'relationship' or 'sexuality'. I didn't dare ask, and neither did he...perhaps both of us were trying to pretend there's nothing there, or were too embarrassed to ask, too frightened to know. Or perhaps, again, I'm / I was just imagining things, and allowing my hormonal mind and desperation to get the better of me. My mother-friend said I'm 'different' when I'm around him...and I certainly did feel different; a feeling I've not had in a long, long time.

Come Monday morning I had to leave, and coincidentally he had to catch the train to work just minutes after my train departs. He said he would come see me off, and just at the last minute, just before I was about to board my train, I saw him walk towards me. We chatted a bit, he again said how it 'pleases him' to have met me, and hoped to see me again, either in France or in Holland. And I thanked him, again, for everything in the past few days...deep down inside, for how happy he made me feel to have found a special someone, even if it's not the kind I've been longing for.

I boarded my train, but looked out the window as the train slowly parted from the platform...hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of him again. We promised to stay in touch, but I wondered whether that will stay true.

I went in my direction, he went his. Those few moments we travelled together will stay in memory. When or whether we'll meet again is unsure, but I sure did have a good time with him. And I hope he did with me too.

Home again

Came back home yesterday. Been a long time, but time to get on where I left off last month.


You can take a look at more pictures of Sunny and my time in Strasbourg at my main and travel blogs.