About To Live

Words are born from people’s mouths and die in their ears. But some words don’t die. They go into people’s hearts and survive.

Please know that, even though my smiles have become more frequent than my tears again, and I seem to have moved on, I still think of you. You appear at random moments in my days, like a reminder, whether I am walking, working, spending time with friends or doing the most insignificant things of everyday life, your name suddenly appears in my head alongside the light and the void you left in my heart.

"You, dead, are so much better than anyone else alive."

"There is life after death and the time we had together was a glimpse of heaven. In those few moments we had I tasted forever and, surely, it was life before life. Thank you - I love you."

You took my hand and held it for a few milliseconds. Your soft palm pressed against mine. I can’t erase the thought of just how soft your hand felt, it surprised me. With your cool, tough, manly exterior, I didn’t expect such softness, but maybe I should’ve seen it coming. After all, your hands turned out to be as soft as your heart.

"Ils sont si pressés de vivre." "On est toujours pressé d’être heureux."

“I am told: this kind of love is not viable. But how do we assess viability? Why is viable a good thing? Why is it better to last than to burn?”

“The curve of the waist is a part that every lover must travel.”

"I love you, I love you, I love you!" they hear. "Love me, love me, please love me!" I really mean to say.

“I hope the sun pours light upon our skin. And we melt into each other, into everything. Maybe the trees will speak, as they sometimes do. Whispers from the shade - Run, run away.

“There are people who would never have fallen in love had they not heard speak of love."

“They have forbidden themselves from showing their emotions, and experience slowly comforted them in that decision. Disappointed by not finding anyone to listen, hurt by the lack of care and interest in the reaction of others, convinced that "opening up" is immediately "pouring out", they never let themselves talk about their feelings. They think that "people don’t have time to waste listening to their problems anyways", and find it more natural to be part of those who listen than part of the ones listened to.”

“My fear of being real, of being seen, paralyzes me into silence. I crave the touch and the connection, but I’m not always brave enough to open my hand and reach out. This is the great challenge: to be seen, accepted, and loved, I must first reveal, offer, and surrender.”

“J'ai des morceaux de toi dans le cœur, dans l'âme et sur la peau. Quand d'autres ne laissent que le vide, de toi je garde tout, j'ai toujours tout gardé.”