There's a sweetness to the pain I feel upon seeing the face of someone I loved.
A pain emanating from the depths of my heart.
I have hurt several people I loved and who loved me in return.
Each of them is a sweet memory, each is a fragment forever embedded in my heart.
Some fragments are bigger than others,
but emptiness is still king...

I am open for leasing... anyone?



The epitome of Love is loving although you are not loved in return.
You try to see things from the other perspective, you grasp it, you understand it, you respect it, but them again your perspective reigns:
it's not every day that you find what we found together that's why it is worth to build upon it and break all past perspectives, it's worth the plunge.
Maybe I am right and this is the path to follow but no matter what I do, an essential part I learned in loving you –learnt the hard way– is letting you be.

The last time I saw you was a rather disturbing experience that created a series of infinite questions that still resonate in my soul:
is she still the same?
will we ever be together?
why did it all happen anyway?
is she in love with someone else?
should I just let her be, just like that?
what if I never find someone who completed me like she did?
was it all an illusion?
have I just fucked up another time?
did I scare her away?
are these "messages" to me or someone else?
will she find comfort elsewhere?

You shove all this to the back of the farthest spot in your head.
You "move on" by trying to forget, or at least by making the time pass.
You meet people, you "experiment", you feel bad, you feel sad, you feel blessed, you can't stop thinking about the farthest spot at the back of your head, you surrender to her face, one that lit when she was with you, one that brightens your blackest days.
You live, to a certain extent.

Then, one day, you see that her hand holds another's.
It may be your hand, eternalized in a furtive shot taken in the past.
But you are somehow sure it is not.
Are you?
You're lost.
A box that you wanted buried in your deepest depths opens:
You thought you would be OK with her finding peace and comfort anywhere, with anyone, even if that meant not with you.
But you are so far from being OK and the thought of it just rips you from the inside.

I am an ellipsis of what could have been,
I am an ellipsis of Love I hold for you,
I am an ellipsis of dreams with you,
I ...


Is it worth it?

Every piece I write -whether here or on any of my notebooks- becomes eternal, the writing is eternal but not what was felt or lived when writing it.
Because times change, people change, circumstances change, perceptions change... , I change.
However, the recent blog posts about "her" and "love" prove that the state I was in when writing them, well, can be eternal.

I am surprised.

I am surprised because what I wrote back then was so pure, it emanated from the deepest depths of my being and was mainly ignited by another being's presence -let's name her "8"- and although it's been a while now that 8 is far from me, but what I have for her (I did not write "feel for her" because feelings are weak when it comes to describing this connection I have with 8) is beyond distance & time.

I have found her, I have found her soul and I connected with her on every possible level.
It is truly a blessing to have met her, although being with her nears impossibility
with every passing day.
The way this experience is shaping me is unique:
It made me love unconditionally again.

I would do anything for 8, although she asks for nothing.
I am in a place where nothing matters except living the present moment and be happy, as much as I can, although this proves to be a hard task when 8 is the reason I am happy, genuinely happy.

Another "Mexican*" melodramatic sitcom?
Another dead end on the road of love?
Another heart break?
Another emotional suicide by expectations?
Another bad timing?
Another failure?
No. You know why? Because knowing 8 has enriched me in so many ways and if the price I have to pay for my sins is not be with her, so be it, at least I've known her.


Love never comes with a rulebook,.
& I love with all my being, all of me.
If I tell you what I'd do for you, you'll know how mad I am.
I know I cannot expect anything from you now.
I pray that you let the Light get through your cracked heart's shell, because you cannot fight Darkness with more Darkness.
Now you ask me: is it worth it? All of this?
Yes, you cannot imagine...

For if I live, it's for meeting people like 8...
And if I love, it's like I love 8.

Drink water

*"Mexican" sitcoms that are 200-episodes long have been part of the contemporary Lebanese popular culture and they can be from Mexico, South America, Turkey, Syria, etc... They are know for the melodramatic story that never ends and that keeps the main characters -who are usually lovers- in a state of continuous sentimental turmoil that rarely ends happily.