Monthly Archives: October 2016

Nobody

Nobody falls in love with a girl who waters her plants by the windows.
Nobody falls in love with a girl who wanders and picks up dead leaves, and keeps them as her most precious treasure.
Nobody falls in love with a girl whose light is still on when everybody comes back from the party, and who is the last person to leave the library on a Saturday night.
Nobody falls in love with a girl who cycles with her head up towards the sky.
Nobody falls in love with a girl who treats the small details of everyday life with the utmost attention.
Nobody falls in love with a girl who watches unpopular films, who listens to music that you can’t dance to, who reads books that don’t serve her studies, and who studies in her free time.
Nobody falls in love with a girl whose best friend is her bike, who chases squirrels and befriends bugs, who finds shelter in the woods, and who wishes her roof were those tiny mushrooms.
Nobody falls in love with a girl who gets so consumed in listening to people that she becomes self-effacing in their presence.

But you did.

You fell in love with the girl who made bracelets from grass that stayed with you long after they withered.
You fell in love with the girl who watered her plants by the classroom’s window, plants she grew in a pot hand-made by you and her.
You fell in love with the girl who collected junks, evidences of your love story that you kept as your most precious treasures.
You fell in love with the girl who wrote you letters and buried them at the roots of some night-scented plant, because it represented silent love.
You fell in love with the girl who told endless stories about everything that caught her sight, who got wide-eyed at double rainbows and fainted stars on city sky, who made you guess the name of every urban tree, and who never let you miss any seasonal change.
You fell in love with the girl who saw meaning where no one else did, and whose imagination happened to match yours.
You fell in love with the girl who got lost in her own world too often,
until that world became you.

But you’re not here.
As time goes by you fall out of love.
You don’t know the girl that she is, right now,
that she wishes you would fall in love with,
that you would fall in love with, again.

She wants to be somebody’s.
But right now, she is nobody’s.

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Looking through the glass

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A moon landed in my cup.

Houses in the Netherlands have large and tall windows with big windowsill, which I occupied in every way I could. Most of the time, I sat there with my knees curled up, head pressed against the glass, holding a hot cup of tea or coffee, while watching the autumn leaves falling from the nut tree and people passing by or parking their bikes. My body was small enough to fit into the corner formed by the window and the wall. The warmth emitted from the heater just underneath made me feel sheltered like a little bird in its nest.

In a town such as Tilburg, solitude is always easily available. If you purposely look for it, it’s out there. Whenever I felt like retreating from other people, I only needed to cycle into the woods located right at the entrance of the university campus, which was populated with old, tall pine trees whose top branches intertwined like a roof isolating the space below from too bright sunlight or too heavy shower.

It was one of those evenings where my asocial, blues-addicted nature took over and urged me to seek a hideaway. The sun had already gone at 7PM, as winter time was approaching. A dim blue light filled the air. In the forest, the world was falling asleep. The deeper I penetrated into the woodland, the darker, colder and quieter it got. I could barely see anything. Leaves and nuts and branches cracked under my wheels. I moved aimlessly, trusting the small tracks to lead me to my next big discovery, until the sky opened up above as I reached a small pond with a resting spot – probably for fishers. This kind of scenery is typical of Tilburg – you can run into a pond, a lake, a canal or a river anywhere you go – and I guess it also applies for any other place in the Netherlands, where water is ubiquitous. The water was still, occasionally agitated by fishes. All of a sudden, it was as if I had left the ‘real’ world to enter another one where time ceased to move forward and became frozen, or simply did not exist.

While I contemplated the emptiness of my being over dead water in a forgotten pond, my friends were heading to a party, as they did every Tuesday night. I was determined to resist the fun and the companionship, knowing that it was not for me, and that I would get distracted. I was physically drained anyway. Later in the evening, as I withdrew to my usual nesting spot, I heard people calling up to me from outside. My room was noticeable being on the first floor, especially at night with the light on. I tried to ignore them until I caught in the corner of my eyes that they were waving for me. All of them. Then it slightly crossed my mind that I could have been there – being included, together, instead of being an outsider and a loner. At that moment, one of them said something but the words were unable to reach my ears through the glass window. The glass epitomized in a way my relationship to people and to the world. I watch them from a distance. But seeing implies to be seen. That was why I always kept my curtains open, and sat by the window. Once in a while, someone might look up and see me.