When I say..

When I say I miss you, what I mean is that everything reminds me of you.

Wood. Tea. Cars. Water. Dogs. Books. Spoons. Cushions. Socks. Rain. Toast. Wind chimes. Children. Everything has a connection to you. The way you would feel about this, how you would look in that, what you would say to them, when we bought that, when we made this. You are everywhere. As if my mind was not consumed enough by you, your essence is everywhere outside of me too.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I wonder.

I wonder what moments would have been like had you been here. If we had been our best. With space to love each other. How we would have shared a knowing smile in front of strangers. Or perhaps a kiss and then a look, want in both eyes, promises on our lips. A giggle or a belly laugh. I wonder how you would affect my world if you were in it again.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I talk to you—often.

The space between my eyes and the wall becomes filled with you. I talk as I wish I had, as I plan to do again. I fight with you too. I always win in the space between my eyes and the wall. But then we always make up. And make up. And make up.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I imagine you.

I imagine what you’re doing and try to work out where you’ll be. Perhaps you went out tonight. Perhaps you met friends. Did you talk about me? Did you miss me? Or maybe you stayed in. I try to think of you in your best self. Happy, content, loving. And I hope you are all those things. I see your eyes. And they smile at me. Your hands brush mine. Our lips quiver as our jaws reach for the other. I imagine you.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I stare.

I catch myself after a minute or two and am never quite sure what I was thinking about. But I know it was you. Maybe it wasn’t even a thought. Just a feeling. The ideal. Just swaying with your rythym.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I cry.

Most often I don’t. I don’t let myself. And then every now again, it crashes through and over my defences. A song. A comment from a child. And I’m a messy ball of regret and need. But then I feel better. As though I’ve honoured a part of myself. And a part of you.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I think.

Like, really think. I think about the ways in which I need to change. They are a constant in my mind. Inescapable and important. Long, long thinkings distracted by yoga and candles and writing and children and dancing and laughing. And I’m grateful to you. For without your presence, I would never have seen what my own bullshit could cost me if I don’t fight it and ultimately grow up.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I look forward.

I look forward to our first meeting. Our first touch. Our first kiss. Our first night. Silly, I know, and full of expectation but I do it anyway. And boy are you wonderful! And boy so am I! I look forward to your eyes seeing mine and seeing clarity again. Clear, easy love with none of the torturous thoughts that once barraged my mind. I look forward to me not caring about the negative, harmful things I have cared so much about. And I look forward to being able to love you, just as you are, with all of me. No hiding, no denying, no judgement, no fear. I look forward to us.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I remember.

I remember moments that I had since filed away as mundane or unimportant. Like cooking courgettes with paprika, or laughing about the dirty towels we would dig out for early morning yoga. Like your shoes, that I never really liked, flung across the floor, or times we caved in and went for drive through fast food. I remember all the things I had forgotten to make it easier to blame you.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I regret.

I regret like poison running through my veins. Regret that we both carried attachments we should have shed before meeting, regret for the way I looked at you and what and who I saw. Regret for the way you didn’t see me. I regret the inability to shed the thoughts I had. The distance they created and how blind they made me.

I regret time wasted and unappreciated. I regret not being able to see that moments were being passed to me, not shared with me. And that the past did not matter. That, I regret most of all.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I resolve.

I resolve to change my life. From the inside out. Heart forward. I resolve to find me and love me. To know that I am good enough, that I have not lost out, that I am wonderful and that the integrity and honour and magic I so desperately seek has been within me all along. I resolve to fix the broken parts and accept the ugly parts. I resolve to discover what holds me back and love it until it holds me back no more. I resolve to meet you again and be happy, with a clear mind, loving eyes and open heart. I resolve to be me again.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, that all these words do very little to justify or give credence to the small, quiet feeling inside of me. The feeling that radiates a longing and a knowing. A longing for happiness and a knowing of its possibility. A longing for you and a knowing of the deepest feelings I have for you.

A longing for our future and a knowing that we can have it. All of it.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I’ve lit a candle, am listening to beautiful music and am pouring my love for you through the ether.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, can you feel it?

When I say I miss you, what I mean is…

Lettera senza occasione….

Lettera senza occasione…
Questa lettera non te la scrivo per un’occasione particolare, ma solo per catturare il pensiero che stanotte mi ha condotto, come il filo di Arianna, fuori da altri labirinti più tortuosi. Una volta mi hai detto che quando dormo, rido. Scommetto che stanotte è andata così. Perciò voglio raccontarti come, a volte, quando sono sereno, mi capita di cadere nel buio del sonno con un lumino acceso che mi guida … ma lo farò riproducendo il flusso dei pensieri, dunque non ostinarti a cercare chissà quale percorso logico.
All’inizio della nostra storia pensavo che tu fossi una ragazza molto carina, sveglia, simpatica,e che, magari, qualcosa di buono dalla nostra frequentazione potesse saltarci fuori. Ti pensavo come un’adolescente che fantastica su tutte quelle ignote emozioni che dovrebbe svelare una storia d’amore. Ma quattro anni e mezzo fa probabilmente non sapevo cosa volesse dire “amare”; avevo scambiato il tutto per una semplice passione, per un battito di cuore, per una voce tremula al telefono, per i tre metri sopra il cielo di un demagogico Moccia. L’avevo scambiato per una tempesta del cuore e solo adesso capisco che l’amore è nascosto altrove, negli alvei del tempo che scorre, che frammenta e consuma i ricordi, i volti, le persone, ma che qualche volta sedimenta i sentimenti alla foce e costruisce isolotti destinati a restare, a resistere grazie ai loro detriti ancorati insieme.
Ho imparato ad amare, sì … ma soprattutto … ad amarTI. Col tempo. Prima non ti conoscevo davvero. All’inizio mi sembravi una tipa tutto feste, amici e ragazzo quando capita. Certo, mi ha meravigliato che tu abbia mantenuto la promessa di aspettarmi al mio ritorno dal mare, ma chissà chi eri tu, misteriosa Lucia; chissà dove mi aveva portato la mia impulsività. E poi c’è stata la serata in discoteca e quel trito e ritrito pugno alla parete che mi ha fatto pensare per la prima volta che, forse, un po’ ci tenevi a me. E le prime uscite con gli amici, la prima vacanza insieme e via dicendo… dopo uno, due, tre anni ritenevo di conoscerti abbastanza bene, ero convinto di aver capito tutto di te. E invece mi sbagliavo: le parti più belle della tua persona mi si sono svelate piano piano. Con il tempo ho imparato a conoscerti e ad ammirarti. Ammirare, che bella parola! E così rara! È stato come un lavoro di ricerca dove, dal non avere alcuna idea in mente (perché, come disse Napoleone, “Non c’è nulla di più raro che un progetto”) ho ottenuto alla fine il miglior risultato. Scava scava e riscava ho trovato l’unicità del mio progetto; ho trovato l’originalità che ha distinto il mio lavoro da quello di altri. Perché la ricerca, nella tua persona, mi ha fatto scoprire che sei diversa da tutti quelli che ho conosciuto; che ragioni sempre con la tua testa e sei piena di valori, quei valori così ignorati dalla maggior parte della gente, così calpestati. Se qualcuno non ti capisce è solo per questo. Perché è vuoto di valori. O semplicemente perché quando cerca, cerca altrove. Ma io no. Io ho trovato in te una ricchezza ineguagliabile. Ma, lo ripeto, è grazie al tempo…
Quanto tempo abbiamo passato insieme? Molto, ma anche così poco se la vita ci grazierà. È relativo, il tempo. È nella nostra coscienza che viviamo, più velocemente e poi più lentamente. È nella coscienza che moriamo. Se io mi addormento pensandoti, questo accade perché già troppe volte ho visto la stabilità crollarmi sotto i piedi, ma tu no, sei ancora qui con me e , se qualche ostacolo od errore non interverrà, tu lo sarai per sempre. Perché la stabilità che sei in grado di offrirmi non è nel tempo dell’orologio che porta avanti gli anni e fa morire gli uomini; la stabilità che sei in grado di darmi è tutta nella coscienza, nel MIO tempo interno che è anche eterno.
Io ti amo perché per me ci sei sempre stata; dal primo messaggio timido, dalla prima difficoltà. C’eri quando le mie amicizie mi cancellavano; c’eri quando ho sostenuto la prova di maturità; c’eri quando ho dato il mio primo esame; c’eri quando ti ho fatto soffrire e, anziché lasciarmi la mano me l’hai stretta più forte; c’eri quando la mia Cate è salita sulla sua stella; c’eri quando ho pianto,pianto e ripianto.
Ora, anche ora, ci sei. E mi dai l’idea che ci sarai SEMPRE. Quanta paura mi incute questa parola “sempre”; e quante coppie se la sussurrano all’orecchio per poi trovarsi da soli con niente a parte il ricordo. Io spero davvero che per noi non sia così. E che, se io sono il “gemello” più volubile, tu, quelle volte che io vacillerò (se vacillerò) mi ricorderai che due gemelli sono inseparabili, nel tempo e nello spazio; perché c’è un substrato comune, una criptofasia, un linguaggio cifrato che nessun altro può comprendere. Solo i gemelli sanno leggersi nella mente. Voglio che tu mi ricordi sempre che: io + te otteniamo due mani congiunte che sanno sostenersi nelle cadute più pericolose.
Ed è pensando a queste cose che piano piano mi sono addormentato

Ho scelto di amarti,

non ho interrogato il tempo
nè il cuore, tanto meno la ragione
Ho scelto di amarti
senza alcuna pretesa
senza promesse.
Ho rubato al mio tempo
del tempo un attimo, forse di più
per molto tempo
per giorni felici, per donarli a Te.
Ho rubato le parole ad un sogno
un bacio al cuore
li ho lanciati nel vento
perché potessero raggiungerti.
Non ho detto Ti amo
per paura del dolore
ma ho detto T’amo
per tutta la passione
che di Te vive dentro di me.

© Silvana Stremiz

Quell’unica carezza…

„Chiudo gli occhi un’istante
e mi vedo lontano..
Stanco..perduta negl’anni
seduto su una vecchia poltrona..
aspetto..
quell’ombra che mi respira accanto..
mi tiene compagnia da un pò..
aspetta..anche lei..
Non ho rimpianti..
non ho rimorsi..
Niente più desideri..
o sogni alcuni..
solo il ricordo di quell’unica carezza
che un tempo fu la mia speranza..
solo quell’unico ricordo..
che mi accompagnerà alla fine..
dolcemente chiuderò gli occhi..
e sarà un momento..
quell’ombra mi avvolgerà..
portandosi via il mio ultimo respiro..
e sorridendo sereno
penserò a quell’unica e dolcissima tua Carezza!!“

Aus Pixlr freigeben

#pixlr

When I say……

When I say I miss you, what I mean is that everything reminds me of you.

Wood. Tea. Cars. Water. Dogs. Books. Spoons. Cushions. Socks. Rain. Toast. Wind chimes. Children. Everything has a connection to you. The way you would feel about this, how you would look in that, what you would say to them, when we bought that, when we made this. You are everywhere. As if my mind was not consumed enough by you, your essence is everywhere outside of me too.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I wonder.

I wonder what moments would have been like had you been here. If we had been our best. With space to love each other. How we would have shared a knowing smile in front of strangers. Or perhaps a kiss and then a look, want in both eyes, promises on our lips. A giggle or a belly laugh. I wonder how you would affect my world if you were in it again.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I talk to you—often.

The space between my eyes and the wall becomes filled with you. I talk as I wish I had, as I plan to do again. I fight with you too. I always win in the space between my eyes and the wall. But then we always make up. And make up. And make up.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I imagine you.

I imagine what you’re doing and try to work out where you’ll be. Perhaps you went out tonight. Perhaps you met friends. Did you talk about me? Did you miss me? Or maybe you stayed in. I try to think of you in your best self. Happy, content, loving. And I hope you are all those things. I see your eyes. And they smile at me. Your hands brush mine. Our lips quiver as our jaws reach for the other. I imagine you.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I stare.

I catch myself after a minute or two and am never quite sure what I was thinking about. But I know it was you. Maybe it wasn’t even a thought. Just a feeling. The ideal. Just swaying with your rythym.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I cry.

Most often I don’t. I don’t let myself. And then every now again, it crashes through and over my defences. A song. A comment from a child. And I’m a messy ball of regret and need. But then I feel better. As though I’ve honoured a part of myself. And a part of you.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I think.

Like, really think. I think about the ways in which I need to change. They are a constant in my mind. Inescapable and important. Long, long thinkings distracted by yoga and candles and writing and children and dancing and laughing. And I’m grateful to you. For without your presence, I would never have seen what my own bullshit could cost me if I don’t fight it and ultimately grow up.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I look forward.

I look forward to our first meeting. Our first touch. Our first kiss. Our first night. Silly, I know, and full of expectation but I do it anyway. And boy are you wonderful! And boy so am I! I look forward to your eyes seeing mine and seeing clarity again. Clear, easy love with none of the torturous thoughts that once barraged my mind. I look forward to me not caring about the negative, harmful things I have cared so much about. And I look forward to being able to love you, just as you are, with all of me. No hiding, no denying, no judgement, no fear. I look forward to us.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I remember.

I remember moments that I had since filed away as mundane or unimportant. Like cooking courgettes with paprika, or laughing about the dirty towels we would dig out for early morning yoga. Like your shoes, that I never really liked, flung across the floor, or times we caved in and went for drive through fast food. I remember all the things I had forgotten to make it easier to blame you.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I regret.

I regret like poison running through my veins. Regret that we both carried attachments we should have shed before meeting, regret for the way I looked at you and what and who I saw. Regret for the way you didn’t see me. I regret the inability to shed the thoughts I had. The distance they created and how blind they made me.

I regret time wasted and unappreciated. I regret not being able to see that moments were being passed to me, not shared with me. And that the past did not matter. That, I regret most of all.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I resolve.

I resolve to change my life. From the inside out. Heart forward. I resolve to find me and love me. To know that I am good enough, that I have not lost out, that I am wonderful and that the integrity and honour and magic I so desperately seek has been within me all along. I resolve to fix the broken parts and accept the ugly parts. I resolve to discover what holds me back and love it until it holds me back no more. I resolve to meet you again and be happy, with a clear mind, loving eyes and open heart. I resolve to be me again.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, that all these words do very little to justify or give credence to the small, quiet feeling inside of me. The feeling that radiates a longing and a knowing. A longing for happiness and a knowing of its possibility. A longing for you and a knowing of the deepest feelings I have for you.

A longing for our future and a knowing that we can have it. All of it.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, I’ve lit a candle, am listening to beautiful music and am pouring my love for you through the ether.

When I say I miss you, what I mean is, can you feel it?

When I say I miss you, what I mean is…

I hope you find that person.

I hope you find someone that loves you when you wake up in the morning. And I hope that person stops you from running to the bathroom to fix yourself before they can even get a peek at you. I hope they tell you how beautiful you are, not just in the way you look but in the way you hold their hands and laugh at their jokes. I hope you find someone who sends you messages when they don’t know whether to get coffee or tea at Starbucks. And I hope that person shares their cookies with you when they only have one left in the jar. I hope they buy you pizza when you’re having a crappy day and listen to you complain about the scripts in television shows that didn’t go according to your ways. I hope you find someone whose kisses make you forget you were ever upset in the first place. And I hope that person holds you like the one would hold an antique vase. I hope the first thing they see in a crowd is your face and I hope they find you in everyone else they meet. I hope you find someone that will give you the wings to soar and I hope this person decides to fly with you. I hope you find someone that really deserves you as much as you deserve them. I hope you find that person.
~Unknown~

Vieni via con me ??????

Non ero ancora in grado d’immaginare che in rarissimi casi, due persone s’incontrano e anche se si dividono materialmente per qualsiasi ragione,

restano incollate con la pelle e con i pensieri per sempre. Sono insieme la molla che scatta per riportarle sempre vicine. Sono la foto mai dimenticata. Restano aggrappate l’una alla vita dell’altra, a dispetto di tutto e di tutti. In ogni modo vada a finire, qualunque cosa accada, sono  lontane dalle solite consuetudini. Sanno abitare  una dimensione che nessuno sarà in grado di vedere se non la crede possibile.  Il loro incontro condizionerà comunque tutto il loro futuro, senza via di scampo. Ecco cosa significa strapparsi un pezzo di sé e consegnarlo inconsapevolmente a un altro essere. Ogni donna si merita un uomo che diventi il suo elastico, che si tenda per raggiungerla e poi si fermi a guardarla vivere libera. Il punto massimo dell’amore è questo, l’ho sempre pensato.  Se vuoi davvero una donna non la dimentichi, non ti arrendi e fai di tutto per la sua felicità. Non esistono valanghe di scuse né distanze insormontabili. Non ti basterà più il resto, pur avendo un’ampia libertà di scelta.  Ogni donna merita un uomo che le dica ciò che ti sto dicendo adesso: Voglio te perché senza di te non mi basta più niente.

(Massimo Bisotti, Il quadro mai dipinto)

Ihr sagt: „Gleich und Gleich gesellt sich gern!“ aber ihr sagt auch: „Gegensätze ziehen sich an!“ – Was davon ist nun wahr?

Andersmensch mit David P. Pauswek und 5 weiteren Personen
╰დ╮╭დ╯ Großartige Beziehungen?

Eine großartige Beziehung erwächst nicht daraus, dass ein „perfektes“ Paar sich findet, sondern wenn ein „unperfektes“ Paar lernt, sich an den persönlichen Unterschieden zu erfreuen.
Ihr sagt: „Gleich und Gleich gesellt sich gern!“ aber ihr sagt auch: „Gegensätze ziehen sich an!“

– Was davon ist nun wahr?

Ich würde sagen, beides ist wahr: Zu Beginn einer Begegnung sucht und erkennt ihr die Gemeinsamkeiten, an denen ihr euch erfreut, an denen ihr euch festhaltet, weil sie keine Reibungsflächen bieten und alles so hübsch ins rosafarbene Licht der Harmonie und Eintracht betten – hier gesellt sich Gleich und Gleich sehr gerne.
Mit der Dauer der Verbindung aber erkennt ihr mehr und mehr die Gegensätze, und damit beginnt es kompliziert zu werden, denn euer Ego wünscht sich Bestätigung, indem ihm nach dem Mund geredet wird, indem ihm in jeder Hinsicht entsprochen wird, indem Ich-Bedürfnisse ihre Befriedigung finden. Es entsteht eine Gratwanderung zwischen Anziehung und Abstoßung aufgrund der Gegensätzlichkeit. Nur wenige Paare schaffen den Weg durch diese Phase des Erkennens der individuellen Gegensätze.

Beziehungen, die nicht auf Liebe basieren, sondern auf sexueller Anziehung, Leidenschaft, Vernunft oder Pragmatismus, können mit den Gegensätzlichkeiten nicht lange bestehen – sie scheiden sich, denn das Ego hat hier die Oberhand. Das Ego ist in solchen Verbindungen der Diktator und wird sich seine Befriedigung auf neue Weise bei „Gleich & Gleich“ finden. Vielleicht tut es das zunächst durch Seitensprünge, Affären oder nebenher laufenden Beziehungen – früher oder später aber wird das Ego die Trennung erzwingen, denn es geht nicht um das spirituelle Wachstum durch die Beziehung, sondern um die Befriedigung gewisser Bedürfnisse des Egos. Es geht nicht um das Wir, sondern um das Ich. Hier wird versucht, zwei Lego-Bausteine mittels der beiden Ober- bzw. der beiden Unterseiten der Steine zu verbinden – wer Lego kennt, weiß, dass dies unmöglich hält. Zwei mit Plus gepolte Magnete stoßen einander ab. Sie können nicht zusammenkommen.

Basiert die Beziehung aber auf Liebe – was zwei reife und bewusste Individuen erfordert, die diese Liebe in sich tragen, erkennen und zulassen möchten –, dann sind es gerade die Unterschiede, die in der Beziehung den Reiz ausmachen und diese letztlich andauern lassen. Durch die Andersartigkeit des Partners wachst ihr über euch hinaus. Durch die Reibungsflächen, die Konflikte und das Entwickeln von konstruktiven Lösungen auf dem Boden der Akzeptanz erlangt ihr größere spirituelle Reife. Dazu ist der Mut, die höhere Herzensabsicht, der innige Wunsch zu lieben und sich spirituell zu entfalten nötig, denn wer es gerne bequem hat, der wird einen Menschen und dessen Unterschiedlichkeiten zur eigenen Person nicht lange in seiner Nähe dulden. Ist aber die Absicht zur heiligen Verschmelzung, zur spirituellen Vereinigung da, dann kann aus einem vorerst eher gegensätzlichen Paar ein „perfektes“ Paar werden.

Menschen begegnen einander niemals zufällig. Die Anziehung auf seelischer, geistiger und körperlicher Ebene ist stets ein Wegweiser der Seele, auf dem steht:
„Potenzieller Seelenpartner – spirituelles Wachstum garantiert!“
Mag es Anfangs auch kompliziert erscheinen, mag es zu kurzzeitigen Trennungen oder auch Rückzugsphasen kommen – wenn sich beide dennoch nicht aus dem Sinn gehen, dann will die Seele damit etwas Bedeutsames sagen. Ihr solltet dieser Botschaft lauschen und ihr entsprechen. Je länger die Partnerschaft nämlich andauert, desto klarer erkennt ihr durch die Augen der Liebe, dass es die Unterschiede sind, die ihr so überaus anziehend findet, und dadurch ergibt sich eine neue Form der Harmonie. Ihr lernt auf vielen Ebenen von den Unterschiedlichkeiten des Partners zu profitieren – ihr erkennt sie als perfekte Ergänzung zum eigenen Wesen. Das Ich tritt in den Hintergrund zugunsten des Wir. Das Wir wird tragender, es entwickelt sich immer mehr zum Ziel; es findet eine Verschmelzung auf hoher Ebene statt – aus Zweien erwächst das Dritte: Das Wir! Das metaphysische Kind!

Was benötigt ihr dazu?

– Nun, die Antwort ist nicht überraschend: Liebe! Dazu ist nichts weiter als Liebe sowie der Herzenswunsch nötig, dieser Liebe den Ausdruck der Akzeptanz zu geben. Wer den Partner in seinem So-Sein akzeptieren lernt, weil er ihn liebt, der findet tiefe Freude an der Andersartigkeit des Gegenübers. In einem solchen Fall gelangen die Lego-Bausteine zu ihrer korrekten Verwendung – die Gegenstücke finden perfekt ineinander, die Verbindung hält.

Eine großartige Beziehung erwächst also nicht daraus, dass ein „perfektes“ Paar sich findet, sondern wenn ein „unperfektes“ Paar lernt, sich an den persönlichen Unterschieden zu erfreuen. ╰დ╮╭დ╯

text: David P. Pauswek – der Andersmensch, © 2012
artworx: siehe Bildsignatur

Teilen erbeten und erwünscht…

~~~~~Risposte~~~~~

Facendo un bilancio serio devo dire che non ho mai saputo rispondere la cosa giusta al momento giusto.
Mai, nemmeno una volta. Le cose buone mi venivano fuori dopo, magari quando stavo a casa, e così la mia vita è un accumulo di risposte esatte date al momento sbagliato.
(Antonio Pascale) – immagine Andy Prokh

[cinquantennisullorlodiunacrisidinervi] – ©2013

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