Nothing But the Night

The dark of the night hid his face, the bags under his eyes, all she could see was the faint outline of a tired silhouette, back bent, face down. Resignation was written in his wrinkled clothes, his unruly hair.

-You know, sometimes, sometimes you get a taste of hope. At the tip of your tongue, or maybe like a faint scent that hits you when you think it's gone.

She raised her head, tried to make out the expression on his face. Nothing. The shadows hung over his features like a thin veil, muffling his words. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

 

-Then it hits you, the fact that it’s never going to happen, no matter how many solutions you come up with in the night, no matter how many explanations and stories you whisper to the ceiling as the midnight hour passes, leaving room for the most exhausting of time, those long, gruesomely long, hours before the sun rises and you’re left with no one else than yourself. You can call someone, whispering in the night, talking for distraction, talking for comfort. You can bring someone with you home, stumbling into the room with searching hands and breaths smelling like cheap vodka and a promise of relief, whispers of a moment where it all is forgotten. It’s only a small halt in the train of thought passing through the night, as the morning hours threaten with the impending dawn, you will still be left there with the night, and nothing but the night.

Orpheus and Eurydice

As the subway doors close you turn around, searching for the right pair of eyes, searching for anything, anyone, everything all at one. One day it will be there, the split-second where hazel eyes under heavy lashes will find you, and time will freeze, and only two hoping hearts will resonate between the cold steel doors of the eastbound line. 

You keep waiting for that moment, that soundtrack second where you'll find your Peter Parker, your Mr. Darcy, your moment of history where it all falls into place; falls into that split-second that will remind you that dreamers are the ones who eventually will find love, even if it’s just for that blink of an eye, that fraction of eternity where you'll look into his eyes and want it all, have it all, know it all and lose it all. All at once.

The Dangers of Dreaming

They told you of the dangers of love. The dangers of lust, the dangers of adrenaline, of speeding cars, of rash decisions and of strange men in dark alleys. They warned you about the hazards of loud music and about the perils of vodka shots. But they never told you about the dangers of dreaming. They never mentioned the way of out a day dream as you slowly feel yourself sink into a world of wishes and hopes rooted in nothing but your own aching heart and feverish imagination. And so you let yourself go under, sink far below the surface of everyday life and into a world that will haunt you with a beauty that always will be two inches away from your reaching fingers, always there, always out of touch.