What once was...

If I don’t even like you… why do I have this urge to be close to you from time to time… wanting you to invade my space without showing who I am… to whisper you things you’ll never understand…? And this happens in tides that come and go, ever since I met you… sitting there, watching us all… It happens with the same clarity as knowing that it won’t take us anywhere. And even so, it keeps happening…

Months can go by without thinking in any of this. Then a rebellion comes… and I want to play this game we play. It plays us. And I don’t care…

I hate you for so many things… and I hate not being able to hate you! I hate what it feels like the day after I see you… all the mess I have to clean inside. All the butterflies that come out once more.

I just need to know that, no matter what, the little daisies will always be mine… that I will remain mysteriously special within you… that we’ll always have our gardens and our castles for one sunny afternoon.

Yes, it happens with the same clarity as knowing that it won’t take us anywhere. And still I wonder if, in our own parallel world, you’ll come along. Come.