Our little house
August 27, 2009
We were just two kids. Two kids madly in love. Although we were in highschool and our roots were not planted well yet, we knew what love is. We knew because we discovered it together, in our lonely spot, our house of dreams, between spider webs and dirt. It was a deserted house for everybody else, but for us it was our world. In this chapel we learned it, we learned love, we learned feelings, we learned how to touch, kiss and caress. We needed no light, no guidance, nobody else, no advice. We just needed us. And music. Ah, the music. Everything was at its place, violins just tearing worlds apart, mandolins crying rivers, guitars tearing sheets…just you, me and our song in our little house.
The dream lasted for one year, because you had to go. Moved in a better place. Never saw you again, just heard your sweet voice from time to time. Left me here, tasting bitterness. Smashing walls and breaking glass. Wandering around like a loonatic, no purpose. Always returning to our sanctuary, always hoping for something miraculous, always waiting for the song to start, but it never happened again. Slept for two nights there. Then, I just saw a deserted house. Who had an extra tale. I saw our house this week. It’s still there, still deserted. Nothing really changed, but it was too painful, even now after all these years, to go in and look. Look for what? Memories refreshed? They’re still there, no need. Lots happened after, had a bunch of loved ones…was not the same, a few were based on physical attraction which passed quite quickly and a few were truly loved. But I really can’t forget you and our little house. Our place of white dreams. Where we learned what love is. I can still hear the song…
If you come to my grave,
please leave me a piece of your veil.
O, the one who made me suffer!
I agreed to the suffering
please leave me a piece of your veil