…Waking up early in the morning, you drew back the curtains and opened the window. The sun has already risen. A new day began. After drinking coffee, slowly pulling on jeans and the first shirt that came to hand, you hit the road. To your new path. You have not noticed that today you somehow react differently to such a native and always intoxicating aroma of your favorite espresso. She always prepared it. And she pulled the curtains too, and woke you up, pouring water from the kettle. And you loved it all. You lived it. And then she left. Just left. To another. Pour it with water from the kettle. And make coffee. And something else … 18 happy years were swept from memory by the slight movement of a lace stole. So fast. So ridiculous. It hurts so much My heart was pounding, as if it was trying to break. And then it went silent. You haven’t heard his voice in a long time. It hasn’t heard from you in a long time. Three years have passed. This is a long time. You get used to…
Yes… getting used to…
And then we leave our apartments, leaving our heart behind the door. Wounded, sickly and a little lame. It is the only thing we can still feel compassion for. We leave it outside the door, it hurts less. And we destroy. Everything that comes our way. Kind, bright, pure, blue-eyed, open, naive, vulnerable and a little holy. We punch in the chest, not noticing the force of the blow. We explode, killing and maiming, because once we were hurt. And it does not matter that others are guilty, or maybe we ourselves are guilty? We are too proud and proud to admit it. We can’t be hurt! We do not forgive! With a word, a gesture, a careless smirk, we pierce through, we plunge our fangs, we torment with hardened hands the kind, bright, pure, blue-eyed, open, naive, vulnerable and a little holy. And we drink more. And we curse louder. And I get sick more often. And a bit of bitterness in the mouth. And empty inside. And scary, a little. We have learned to believe. We have forgotten how to dream. We have learned to love. We laugh at those who look into our eyes. We throw other people’s feelings out the window before going to bed, so as not to interfere with falling asleep, not forgetting to draw expensive curtains … We play relationships, turning them into fun. With everyone and no one … Freedom! And the good, bright, still pure is leaving us, though not so blue-eyed, and not quite open, and no longer naive, and already … A little confused. A little in tears …. Just Another … So that tomorrow, waking up, just as indifferently pull the curtains, drink cold coffee, leave the house. And explode, breaking and maiming… And piercing through… And digging in with your teeth… And tearing you apart… And bitterness in your mouth… And the heart outside the door…
