I am seeking the traces of a heart which was opened some time ago. Bending and picking some of its pieces, left in a silo. The thunders and the rain washed away my hopes. I’m driving but I cannot think clearly, not right now. I am scared.

I can’t pull over now, not until I arrive to the destination. That heart left some blood dripping on its way, and this is what I am looking for. Almost there, in the mist of what I see, the fog and its thick density caress my disillusions. Should I slow down? I need to think. I’m afraid, where am I heading? I remember what J. said “This is something the mind would say”. I know. I’m cold, the heater acts finicky, but it doesn’t bother me much. I pull over and take a break. I like the sensation of the rain against my jacket. The drops only come to leave, soft beauty. I want to be one of them.

Take a deep breath in. It’s going to be ok. I don’t remember much of it, tones, colours, sounds, a voice perhaps. Yet it was enough to bring me back to these places where we were once.

Do you remember?

I do, many of my friends have been there. I asked C. “How does that make you feel?” “So relaxed” he said. Maybe I should try it now. How can I let go? It’s going to be ok. My hopes were more certain back then, and they lived forever.

Do you trust me?

I do.

I’m looking for some warmth, a sip of tea maybe. That should give me what I need, at least for now. She is beautiful, did you see her? Yes, I did. We jumped. Twice. The apprehension left some courage, enough to take that leap of faith. And it had to be done. Were you able to see it? I did.

If there’s one moment lost in time, I want it to be eternal. I want allow myself to be in it, and I want it to be my own, shared, once, yet forever. I am afraid.

Can I lay down for a moment? I just need some water.

I shared a lot, but that doesn’t bother me, why would it?

I feel light-headed. I was thinking about jumping. You ever have that feeling?

On a bridge, you look over and… step back. I didn’t jump, and I didn’t step back either.

I slipped, and scratched my finger against the snow, is it my blood? Yours maybe? It doesn’t matter, there’s much more at play. Do you want to do this again? Maybe later. I laughed at you. That was the first snow, and it meant a lot to me.

When the emotions left their traces in the silo, I rushed to seal it. It takes some time, few years I think.

I left the car and decided to walk, it’s gorgeous out there. I smell the vines and the lush greenery. The mud, the bark chips, and the buzzing insects, a house fly maybe. The moon casts its whitish splendour, the pine trees spoke in a murmur their secret wishes. I finally found it. It hasn’t changed, for the time only eroded its appearance, its strength and treasures run deeper than that. One hope that forged more than one tree, and at the behest of my will, the weather tarnished what I left, yet wouldn’t forget the world and what it meant to me.

I feel the rust against my fingers. I like the smell yet wouldn’t tell anyone that I do. This is a big silo, and I know exactly what’s in there. You came with me and helped me loading it with the joy I ever left and all the lives I ever lived. I don’t remember when, but we drew these entwined  hearts on it. A part is gone. I remember that dark marker, the smell of the toluene, and its squeaky sound. Time erased some of it, yet left enough for me to remember. I’m sure many would relate to that. They have to. I didn’t know that it was possible to travel that far. I left the engine running, should I go back to turn it off? If I have to, let me do it.

I’m hungry, yet, I don’t know how to eat. Can I ask for some food? I know that there’s some coffee left somewhere, in my bag maybe. Do you love me? Fuck, I don’t even know what that means. You just keep asking the same question, over and over. I don’t know what to say to that. I have to focus, damn, I don’t think I have the right to open that silo. The lease ran out. I wasn’t even there when it happened, and no one told me. Thanks J. for seeing the despair in my strength. I didn’t know you could see that deep. I don’t even remember how many times my head hit against that silo. I left a mark, and my name maybe. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t want to apologize, I don’t have to, yet, I thought about it.

Falling angels.

I’m tired. I know that I can trust you, Yet, I’m afraid that I would have to buy another box, a bigger pile that would reach above the sky.

I will eventually, does it scare me? A little bit. What would I leave in that? I can hear you. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. You are there, in my life, and in my dreams. I see you. Talking to my life, talking to my dreams. Where does it end? I don’t know. Is there such thing as “it’s going to be ok”? I’m not sure.

I found the keys in my bag. Scrapped metal. I knew you’d come. You were there yesterday. Can I hold your hand?

Wait for me. Are you cold? Where are you, I can’t see in this darkness.

Let’s open it. I’m nervous. I don’t remember all the details. Look at the moon, and let’s make a wish. Only a fool would ask for that.

I touch the key and let it slip between my fingers. I can give it some freedom. One moment at the time. Alive. The exultation is there. This is the moment. I push hard against the padlock, resisting to my will, resisting to my desire. My fingers are wet, and my nails dirty. The key in the rusty barrel gives me some shivers, and the friction elates my desires. This is my respite. I came from so far away to meet you; the silo has to open. One, two, three, four clicks in the cylinder as the key lifts the pins, I let it slide and trust it. I close my eyes and turn the key. I am not afraid anymore. The shackle only equals my strength, at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

Do I even remember what I left in there? It’s been a long time, and couldn’t find any reason to declutter the mess that I avoided. In such a rush, I only left a frustration. Alone, I told myself that I could have done better. Not now. I like your smile and the sound of you colours. Give me one moment.

The silo slowly opens, and I hear the wind. Can I let it in? For a few seconds, a few days maybe. Hard to tell, hard to decide.

How many years have passed by? How many will be gone? Can I leave some rays entering and shining on some of the deepest desires that I have? I step in that darkness, the foul smell welcomes me, it’s been such a long time. Can I come in? I remember this blanket, my anamnesis. I also see a chest, yet wouldn’t open it, not now. Not ever.

I see the beauty in the paintings that you hung, and I remember some of these pictures. The dust and craquelures, an ancient silence that spoke to me, and I’m wondering how many will be left here, should I ever return.

Cold warmth. Soft feeling.

I belong here, we all do.

I left the rain in, it’s a bit wet. I can’t take my shoes off, I used to, maybe I’ll be able to soon. This is your handwriting over there. We used to sneak in and let our closeness protecting us, nothing could ever reach us under that blanket. In it, we cuddled, kissed, napped, and flew by the stars. Lost in that moment, we were untouchable.

So many memories live in that space, fragrances of everlasting jubilations…

I missed you.

Let me step aside for a moment. Do you want to come outside for a sec? Let’s look at the moon, and make a wish.

It won’t be long, just enough for my emotions to leave in that silo the deepest of my desires…