Te iubesc, nu-ntelegi? / I love you, don't you understand?

"Eu te iubesc, nu-ntelegi?" i-a spus ea, cu vocea tremurand, sugrumandu-si suspinul iminent. Nu m-am intors sa-i vad fata, a ramas o voce care mi-a miscat, in seara aia de mai, universul, care m-a facut sa filosofez tacuta pentru cateva momente, cu gandul aiurea, si cu vocea ei rasunandu-mi in minte. Cine era, nu conteaza, si nici povestea din spatele declaratiei disperate.

Oare de cate ori in viata ne e dat sa realizam cat de usor e sa iubesti, si totusi cat de greu este sa gasesti iubirea? E uman sa ne permitem sa nu intelegem iubirea cuiva, sau, mai rau, sa o tratam cu indiferenta? Daca nu s-ar fi inventat banii, iubirea ar fi jucat probabil cu succes rolul de moneda de schimb.

I-am strans mana, s-a intors usor si i-am zambit. Habar n-avea ce-mi trece mie prin minte...

***

"I love you, don't you understand?" she told him, her voice trembling, stifling her impending sigh. I didn't turn to see her face, there remained a voice that moved, that May evening, my universe, that made me philosophize quietly for a few moments, my mind wandering, her voice ringing in my head. Who she was doesn't matter, nor does the story behind the desperate declaration.

How many times in life do we get to realize how easy it is to love, yet how hard it is to find love? Is it human to allow ourselves not to understand someone's love, or worse, to treat it with indifference? If money had not been invented, love would probably have successfully played the role of currency.

I squeezed his hand, he turned slightly and I smiled. He had no idea what was going through my mind...

Bomba fara ceas / Bomb with no timer

Le strang treptat in mine, motiv dupa motiv, frustrare dupa frustrare, nerv dupa nerv, devin treptat o bomba ambulanta. Nu mai pot sa injur, nici macar la volan, nu mai pot sa plang, asa cum faceam odata, nu mai pot sa rad prosteste, pentru a varsa cumva tensiunea. In schimb, privirea mi-a devenit pe alocuri taioasa, deciziile imi vin rapid si dureros, chiar daca ma afecteaza si pe mine, si pe cei din jur.

Unii zic ca e de bine, altii zic ca e de rau, practic toata lumea din jurul meu are cate o pozitie referitor la schimbarea asta. Numai eu am ezitari.

Si ma schimb, si nu-mi dau seama, si ma inraiesc pe zi ce trece, ma maturizez, cica… Adica incep sa invat sa infig cutitul fara remuscari, sa il sterg frumos de sangele vinovatului, si apoi sa il pregatesc pentru urmatoarea lovitura.

Dumnezeule, ce mi-ati facut?

***

I am gradually gathering them into myself, reason after reason, frustration after frustration, nerve after nerve, gradually becoming a walking bomb. I can't swear anymore, not even while driving, I can't cry, as I used to, I can't laugh stupidly, to somehow release the tension. Instead, my eyes have become sometimes sharp, my decisions come quickly and painfully, even if they affect me and those around me.

Some say it's good, others say it's bad, practically everyone around me has a position on the change. Only I have hesitations.

And I'm changing, and I don't realize it, and I'm getting worse every day, I'm growing up, I guess... I mean I'm starting to learn to stick the knife in without remorse, to wipe it clean of the culprit's blood, and then to prepare it for the next blow.

My God, what have you all done to me?