I am a melancholy. A small tidal wave of emotions. A small storm in my glass of water. This rush happens to me like that without warning, the river rises too fast without being noticed and then showers all the small cracks that were thought fitting. I am unsinkable, but I have both feet in the water.
I wish you were here. To talk to me in my dark. To build me a roof with your arms. To reassure me a little, perhaps. To get with your fingers through my hair. To change the world, to build our own, to be free. I wish you were there to fill the silence of words, to fill the empty image, to fill my head with promises that I will want to believe. I wish you were here to dispel my fears, doubts and fly, to meet the man of my life, I wish you were there to fill my whole life with your presence, your smell.
I wish you were there, but you are not there. You are in kilometers away, in another life, in another time zone….
You will be back within the days. But I wish you were already there, and you take my hand, that you will loose the most. I wish you were already there without looking back, without looking too far ahead. So that we can finally walk at the same speed, without turning round.