Control me, Control you

Tell me, my sweetheart, in this love game we’re playing, if given the chance to choose, what would you prefer: controlling me or letting me control you?

Think about it: I’d be what you want me to be. I’d know when to smile flirtatiously or laugh childishly. I’d sense when you want me shy or when you need me red-blooded. I’d taunt you, tease you, please you, caress you, succumb to you, when you want it, how you want it. I’d play gently with your freckles until the break of dawn or I’d hurt my fingertips on the piano keys playing a passionate never-ending love song. It would be your call and I’d always be there for you. Only for you.

Or, you could let me use you, confuse you and abuse you. You’d paint my summer sky with water lilies just because I’ve always had this dream. You’d invent new words and new gestures only because I want you to love me differently. You’d stay wide awake every night only because I want you to write me long poems about the way I breathe in my sleep. You’d seduce me with your lingering eyes or you’d break my bones in a volcanic embrace. It would be my call and you’d always be there for me. Only for me.

If given this chance to choose, I’d definitely prefer to let you control me. You know why? Because I’m hanging on your love and I need to be sure that you truly love me. So yes, I would give myself to you completely. I’d be small, I’d be humble, I’d dance on your music, I’d walk on your shoes, I’d see the world in your eyes, I’d feed on your dreams, I’d fall in love with your demons, I’d even let you crush my heart under your feet if this is your wish.

Tell me, dearest, wouldn’t you love me more if you saw me sacrificing my freedom, my will, my soul, only to know the real you, risking everything only to hear you whisper a genuine word of endearment, only to feel a pure and uncontrolled love emotion in your eyes?

And tell me, love, if I’d make you love me more by giving myself to you, who’d be in control and who’d be the controlled one then?

~ Inspired by the movie "Gamer" ~

Happy ending for whom?

I saw Two Lovers the other evening. I left the cinema with tears in my eyes and a sour feeling of emptiness in my chest.

"Come on, it wasn't such a bad ending after all!", I say to myself. One might even say that it was a sort of happy ending.

The question is "Happy ending for whom?" It can never be a happy ending for everyone. Some of us are always left behind. Left to suffer. Left to wonder. Left to return constantly to the moment where our hopes and dreams were torn apart and smashed to the ground.

Indeed, the screenplay offered a "convenient" closure for every character. Nevertheless, what did you feel when Michelle said to Leonard: "I'm not coming. I'm sorry. You're such a great man. But he wants to marry me."? Did you see the paralyzing pain on his face? I quivered thinking that the suffering was too unbearable for him. I really thought that it was the end of the road for him. It would have been the end of the road for me, if I were him. Instead, he found the only way to avoid committing suicide: giving himself to another. But with what price? Tell me. With what price?

The age of loneliness

I must have become a grown-up by now. I’ll be 27 by the end of this year.

It seems that, by this age, friends of mine from high school have already had the time to get married, have children and even get a divorce. Meanwhile, I’m lonelier than I’ve ever been before. In fact, I’ve never been alone until recently.

What happened to me? How did I get here? How come I ended up alone when I spent every single moment of this life giving myself in the name of love?

I keep browsing the pages of my past trying to figure out a fatal mistake or a clear sign of bad luck that could explain my downfall. If only I could understand the reason for this loneliness... If only I knew which was the exact moment in time when everything started crumbling down. When did I start dying and why?

Digging up my history, I keep getting this dusty image of a young girl with high hopes of love. That was me undoubtedly, but It feels like that was somewhere in another life, in another land, far-far away. It’s strange that it’s the only picture of me that I’ve kept in mind. No matter how hard I try to find another one, the same image comes back to me, hunting my memory. I was so in love with the feeling of love, back then. My heart was pure, my nights and days were filled with amazing dreams and my trust in mankind was unshaken. How did I end up broken, dreamless and mistrustful? How did my eyes get so weary and gloomy? I used to shine so beautifully... I used to imagine myself as a happy devoted wife and mother... I used to live only for the loved one...

"You shouldn’t worry, dear. Getting married is a piece of cake. It can happen in the blink of an eye. It will happen, no doubt about that." Nice people keep on telling me this kind of words only to build me some confidence.

"Not if you happen to be the kind of person that still believes in soul mates." I answer them invariably while they force themselves to put on a smile and then drown in silence. They cannot comfort me anymore.

The painful truth is that I’ve reached the age when my friends have already had the time to marry, feel alive and get bored, and I’m still alone, contemplating my messed-up life and holding in my hand the picture of the dreamer girl that I used to be long before I’ve become the dead man walking that I am today.

I won't look for the easy way out

Today. It's so damn cold today. The rain doesn't seem to stop very soon and the streets are almost entirely submerged in water. I've just finished my gym class. I'm exhausted but I feel so great. I put on my tights, my pencil skirt and my purple blouse and I'm just about to leave the building when I receive your call. You remind me not to be bold and walk on my way home.

"Your body is still warm and it's freezing outside. You should get a cab. Please take a cab!"

As soon as I hang up the phone, I open the exit door and I'm strongly hit by the harsh wind. I stay still for a few moments. I can feel the cold drops of rain falling over my flushed cheeks. It's such a bitter-sweet feeling that I close my eyes and start smiling. I pump up my chest, greedily inhaling the fresh air, filling up my lungs with the smell of autumn. As I let the cold wave embrace my body, I quiver and I find myself uttering out loud the following words:

"I won't look for the easy way out of this messy life of mine."

A pleasant feeling of tranquility suddenly overwhelms me. I open my eyes and start walking in the heavy rain, deciding not to open the umbrella. I step firmly on the flooded sidewalk, soaked up to the skin, shivering but unusually happy.

Yes, this is the first day of the rest of my life and I'm not looking for any loopholes in this screenplay. I will accept whatever I have to bear, I will face whatever I have to confront, I will fight whatever battles I have to hold.

I won't open my umbrella.
I won't get a cab.
I won't take any painkillers.
I won't scream for help.
I won't wear any life jackets.
I won't drug myself only to escape this reality.
I'm keeping my eyes wide open, my senses wide awake and my heart wide alive.

I want to feel life running through my veins. I want to shout as loud as I can:
"I'm not afraid to be alone. I'm not afraid to lose everything and start all over. I'm not afraid to be murdered and born again. I'm not afraid to watch my dreams die because I know I'll always come up with new ones. I'm not afraid to live with bleeding wounds because I know someone will heal them some day."

So I'm not looking for the easy way out. I want life to hit me as hard as it can. I'll always turn the other cheek around and say: "Thank you, I've never felt so alive before!"