slow motion

I open my eyes after a long night of sleep remembering when I was not able to dive into Morpheo's realm. Sleepless nights with her but without her. She is no longer here. She never really was. I probably should stop letting them in at night, the flying pink elephants. There are always collateral damages. Always. Black sheets, red pillowcases. I am naked and in need of a shower. She used to complain about my sticky skin every morning. I used to brag about my soft skin every night.

I like cold showers. I like the feeling of being under the water. High pressure. The echo of yesterday words fades. It is not just you and me anymore. As it was yesterday. As it will be tonight. Daylight slaps me in the face and I cannot longer pretend there is nothing else. The same words that make me hope, now hurt. You are in your island. I am on mine. No matter how much I swim against the tide. Smoke signals on a windy day.

I have breakfast on the counter. Cereal. Chocolate milk. In a purple bowl. I will see you today but I am not allowed to look at you. Not the way I am meant. Chocolate milk is one of my favorite things in the world.

I ride my bike to the office, where I pretend to work for a couple of hours before going to the pool. I swim, and swim, and swim. Meditation. I am you. I am me. Surrounded by water I imagine conversations we will never have. I hate to roll every twenty five meters. A wall that keeps me from getting closer to you. I hate to swim indoors. I am loosing my tan. I sit on the concrete outside the pool after five thousand meters and enjoy my lunch. The same girl every day. She smiles at me. I smile back. Tomorrow I will ask her her name. That I said yesterday. That I will say tomorrow. I am not ready.

I take a nap in the office. I dream. I snore sometimes. Afternoons are long. I keep waiting for a signal. An email, a phone call, you. But most of the time nothing happens. And if it does, I do not care the same as if I was alone, sitting on the swing in my porch, under the Christmas lights. And the moon. And the stars. In my island.

A run, a bike ride, a soccer game. Anything that keeps me away from the inertia. And makes me tired. I like to have dinner when I am exhausted. Sometimes I do not like being alone. Sometimes there is nothing else I want. A second cold shower.

The flying pink elephants are back. The swing creeks. Melancholy. The reflection of the lights in a glass of wine. The smoke. And then you again. It is difficult to fight my drive. My drive towards you. But we both want the same. Everything else fades again. It is just you and me. Subjectivity. Living a sedative lie that will no longer exist tomorrow. I do not care. I do know the rules of the game. And, no matter what, I will keep playing. And I will win. And we will find a shade of gray that is neither black nor white.

I sleepwalk to bed. I am no longer aware of what it is and what it is not. Tomorrow morning you will be gone again. Only to be back, though. Meanwhile, my heart beats in slow motion...