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musti.dab
I wanted you to make me feel safe when I didn’t yet know how to create safety inside myself.
I wanted your love to answer questions it could never answer:
Am I enough?
Am I desirable?
Will you choose me?
Will you stay?
And somewhere along the way, I stopped asking whether I was choosing myself.
The world keeps moving with an almost offensive normality.
People go swimming.
Trains arrive.
cats demand food.
Friends send messages.
Plants grow new leaves.
Summer comes back.
I laugh sometimes.
And every time I laugh, I discover that my life continued without asking your permission.
musti.dab
There are still things I want to tell you.
Small things, mostly.
A plant I finally learned the name of.
Something stupid one of my cats did.
A sentence I heard on the street that would have made you laugh.
A tree somewhere in Berlin carrying fruit, the kind we would have stopped to inspect as if discovering it ourselves.
Sometimes something happens and my first thought is still:
I have to tell you this.
And for one tiny second, you still exist exactly where you used to.
Then I remember.
There is nowhere to send it anymore.
