life is beautiful

i read through my diary. do you still call it that way even if it’s word-processed or is there a special word for that kind of journal? the last entry was on february fifteenth last year. i’m lucky i remembered the password, it’s quite a high security one.

i wonder how i survived all of that. my misery seems to have been abysmal. i had obviously suppressed a lot of it. and now that i remember, i know why. the following lines hit me, because i still remember the day, the setting and every other detail may it ever appear so insignificant these lines talk about: standing next to her, a distance that seems so short, yet is so far. i see her (…) but the distance is getting larger every second. she’s gone. we lost. i guess she was nothing less than the love of my life. no, i don’t guess. i know. ‘accept that she really is the love of your life and move on. you can’t do anything about it anymore.’ i never wanted to accept this advice.

about an hour ago i read’s post about memories. the only memory that came to my mind was an image of that girl putting her hair in a ponytail. is that something extraordinary to remember? my subconsciousness seems to have decided so. and i won’t do anything against it. i love that memory for its simplicity and all the feelings that i still have when i remember the scene. blooming! i’d immediately fall in love with her again if i saw her. but i have no idea where she is.

oh, why do i write in lower-case? perhaps because i feel picayune. but i don’t mind, the world is big and there are people with far greater problems. nevertheless i don’t feel nugatory. perhaps because i know there’s someone who loves me and who i love. platonically, but somehow that’s the beauty of it.

it’s around five o’clock in the morning and i’m not tired at all. after an eternity, i feel really alive again, this week has been absolutely great so far. and now i’m wondering that i’m not thinking that the easter holidays are nearly completely over but that there are still three whole days left to be filled with life.

is it really over? finally, so many months later? if not, i hope i will remember this day, it will give me hope. for the first time ever, i want to move forward and my body and soul are not screaming, hitting, clawing to make me stand fast. ‘you do not have to stop loving her, but you should seriously consider altering your love.’ that’s what i was told by a friend of mine. it took me a long time to realize that necessity.

i can see people who know me in real life headshaking and/or being confused. but that’s it. this is what occupies my mind (most of the time) when i’m not in a good mood. and i just had to let it out now. i feel too good to suppress all these things right now. consider me an idiot, forget what you have just read or ask yourself a bunch of questions. anyway, don’t ask me about it. it was hard enough to write about it. and i will not go through some kind of interview answering questions for which i would probably need days to give a complete answer to. but perhaps some of you now know me a bit better.

and now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll let this night die away with a bit of hank jones. when i wake up in a couple of hours, who knows, maybe i still want to leave this all behind. because life is just too beautiful to stick to pain.

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  1. […] In every corner of the world, people live their lifes and have dreams and fears, who am I to self-pity myself for a sorrow that cannot possibly be greater? I’m not alone and I’m certainly not the only one to have such feelings of despair every once in a while. When I think back about the life is beautiful post, I guess I’m on the road to recovery. […]

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