The letter is lying on the living room table. I simply cannot believe what’s written there. Is it true? Am I leaving? Isn’t this a dream, a mistake?
Zenzen shinjirarenai, hontou ni.
Month: August 2005
I can’t believe I actually wrote something in Chinese.
When he rings the doorbell, he leans toward the studio window and presses his nose against the glass.
When he sees me from afar, amidst the endless gray sea of people, he immediately smiles. I guess he’s never thought of the possibility of somebody thinking he’s smiling at nothing in particular. His smile is always peaceful, peaceful like his deep sunset gaze.
He speaks with a voice which reminds me of silent nights, of stars gleaming in the distance, of a cool, soothing swim in a dark pond.
I can remember the way he clenches his fists, the scars on his hand, his fingers and nails, the way he suddenly became beautiful in front of my eyes. I can still feel his scent, the texture of his lips, and I long to relive all the moments in which I’ve turned around to find his calm presence by my side.
If we ever must part, I want to keep all this with me, all these images, all these sensations. I don’t want to lose a single memory, every second is precious. I touch my chest and my heart feels warm… I want it to stay that way.