I spent several days in deep darkness. I could hardly distinguish reality. I lost count of the hours. I did not want to wake up.
A large void had been installed. I felt that a big part of me had been pulled out. Strange feeling of loneliness mixed with pain. Bitterness on the lips with a taste of oblivion. Rational dementia that could not be understood.
So indescribable was my personal darkness, without the radiance of Zoe's look. Now everything was over.
The substance of love was getting diluted in my aura as if my energy got drained and gave way to the pain of the past. This was getting diluted in my memory as if the ink of a tattoo was erased and gave way to engrave it with a chisel. Now that same
chisel was getting diluted in my soul as if my heart rejected it, but it stayed on my skin. The substance of love now tasted like bile.
What would be doing who one day was my Zoe? Maybe suffering like me? Would she have suffered for such a long time that now was just resting? Either way, she had to survive, because in her body had two lives, hers and mine. Silently I wished that Zoe will turn around and remember yesterday. Although, from the depth of my being, I hoped that she would never cry again, that she would never see me again.
It seems as if love did not matter or worth anything, but it's just an impression. Love is worth the whole life - with lows and highs, caresses and looks - until you stop learning.
The nostalgia danced with me and hugged me tightly. Reason had abandoned me. There was no commitment. I did not know what I felt; I did not know what to say. God was a witness that I spoke with my faith, whatever my destiny was. And if I fell, would I find a helping hand that would help me recover? Or would only God give me shelter and food?
And that is how the days went by.
