Move on!

 Love can not be faked, I know. Love can not be donated, I understand. Love can not be begged, I have to remember this. I have to be grateful, you are still keeping a few threads between us, the threads of friendship, that’s how you define our relationship. I have to shut up, accept this situation, be grateful and keep going with out short polite diplomatic almost formal meetings. Ah, I have to ignore any hints, any puns and if I refer to anything romantic I have to accept your sudden and savage silence for a period that only you know how long it will last. My friends advise me to move on, seal this chapter, bury this premature love and move on. Their advices are getting louder turning into curses and accusations of weakness, mental disturbance and even of being a pure drama Queen. I’m not pathetic, I have a life just as yours, busy life, dull life, fake life just as yours. I push the days, waste them waiting for a vague moment that never arrives just like you. I deal with those around me with the least amount of emotions just like you. Everyday I engage less and less with my surroundings, just like you. I’m not pathetic my friends, may be the only difference is that I was touched by love, and since then, and unintentionally my life is disintegrating. I can’t continue faking happiness, faking care and faking concern. The long hours of driving and singing, driving and making phone calls and driving and crying, suddenly seemed not to be enough. I need sometime alone, alone with all our few memories, I need to relive them for a million time, I need to relive the same pure genuine striking feelings. I can’t keep going on, gliding along the days like I did for the past four decades, i simply can’t. Even if I can’t live our love, at least I have to relive it, before I forget any slight detail, how you smiled when we first met, how you refused any compliment and how you were stingy with your nice words. I have to remember everything even when you were shouting, and your time vibrates with anger, did you say that we should never meet again? I tend to ignore this hour, I tried to delete it, but no, I have to remember everything. All these memories are not enough, and I don’t have the luxury of picking which ones to keep.  

Move on! That is what my friends say in a logical tone, with this wicked patriarchal look, move on! Apparently, no one will ever understand what happened between us. I’m doubting if you even understood it, it was too pure, too profound and too beautiful to be true. It was illogical to you, but this was the only way I would call this feeling “love”. My dear friends, don’t worry, I’m moving on, but I’m not alone, I’m “ moving on” with all our memories.