I slip under the sheets, exhausted by the day. I recall the events step by step, minute by minute, as if in the dark, they were clearer. Formalities, handshakes, signatures, Low Mass, the goodbyes, the tears. And then my mind will distract this decortication, the image of Paul lining my unconscious.
Your face is soothed a slap that leaves me more alone in the world. I remember our moments together and the conversation comes back to me. It was in a coffee one morning (which you did not talk yet never morning) you were, as sometimes, even with me, strangely distant. You crush beneath your finger grains of sugar alone. I had started:
"Paul, you seem so lonely, so sad, but who made you suffer so much?" (Silence, he raises his head.)
"The passage of time." (Another pause, then he resumed:)
"Seest thou this, strictly speaking, is stealthy, the time is already past, is now dead. When you're young we say that it is still worth the shot, if one understands you like or if we are lucky we live each moment with intensity. Joys and sorrows pass but we are building, like a storm that changes the face of the earth. It crumbles, it is drowning, it grows, it grows, our land of endless cycles chained to heavy rains, droughts and dry and warm soft rays. But our men, there comes a time when we are more or less complete, we arrive at the end of all these cycles, where peace is in our lives, where present, though fleeting, is a bore , an enormous weight. We know that the future is not for us, so we still have in the past. We look back (if we still enjoy the memory ...) every moment spent with either tenderness or bitterness.
As for me, the time spent just left me alone. Stripped of all attachment. Every feeling, whatever may be said that this does not work (and thus-in-past). I loved, I loved madly, the reverse never (or it did not last), each failed immersing myself in a bit more solitude. This solitude was initially a partner, was transformed into a monster a little parasite, whenever the numbers swelled my age. Plus my 3 changing into 4, my 4 in 5, plus my loneliness was cruel, tough, impenetrable. And me, yet still dreaming, I saw myself powerless to obey him, leaving him to show the fangs at each penetration, no longer strong enough or used to smash me against the loneliness of others. Age brought me still a little wisdom and healing, when the weight of loneliness oppresses me too, I confessed, half word, want to address them. But all the time spent getting lost while away from other m'horrifia. The impression of having spoiled my chances of being happy, stupidity and cowardice (even if for other things that brought me a lot). The days went by faster than my injury, I was afraid it was too late, I wanted to remember the day when night fell, remember the night when the day broke, but each time, unmoved the world turning, the sun rose and burned my eyes dry. Nothing changed. And the old course, no longer feel useful, wanted and I know it's worse for a woman. And friends, loved ones, who leave, disappear, die, forget, moments good or bad, that does not catch up, never to return.
I often wondered why, why I never got to engender love in someone, why I was so proud and so unkind, why I could not be like any other. Enter into this mold so obvious to everyone. I would even prefer to be unhappy with both. For at least know to at least have the choice to stay or go, or forget to love. But I was alone and the days went straight into the grave and dust. No children, no love, an exciting life, but not satisfied here, against my body the night. Nothing. Under my body in the earth, nothing.
And more than sixty years, I met you. You knew me heal the passing of time, or at least appease. As I told you wanted to have arrived so late. To have lived so much without me. To have loved before me. But as I have loved you, immediately. I was afraid to start I felt too old, finished, brushed, too lonely, unable to simply be in good company. But everything was simple with you, everything still is. Is it because it's just you or me who have never tried and therefore could have doubted that? I was afraid to start, yes. And now I fear the end. If everything continues after death I'll tell you today that I love you, forever. "
We kissed for the first time in broad daylight, in this sordid and coffee while my ego was so invigorated young man by these revelations I remember sometimes you without asking you if do you still feel alone even with me, but you had answered only by a poor smile.
Yes Paul, this is far too fleeting. Maybe it's what every lover wants to burn his love "forever." That these words are sad when I think. The holy grail ideal. But as I understand these words as I feel. Through the night, reason and time.
The passage of time has made you infinitely alone, days distilling the sentence in every corner of your weary soul. For me now the time is you. The sky is gray, my earth shook. Because today Paul, I've buried.
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