Four Seasons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

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Four Seasons

 

Svea

A warm, golden brown. The colour of his eyes fascinated me from the very first second. I had noticed him before, though. But we never looked at each other, we were busy living our lifes and I would never have expected our paths to cross someday. But I was there and he was, too. And that’s how our story began. We got to know each other on the first of March. Our eyes just met and something was there, something that we had been looking for unconsciously. Usually my life was well structured and planned. Usually I didn’t have any space for others. But on this very day I did have space for the foreign boy in the bookshop. Because with Vincent nothing was ordinary, everything was a little different. Special.

Vincent

She had always been the girl next door. She had been living down the street, I often saw her passing by, riding her bike. I neither knew her name nor anything else about her. Until this day, the first of March. As our eyes met, she smiled at me. I smiled back. And that’s how we happened to talk for the first time, back on this Saturday afternoon in a little bookstore. We just talked for an hour in between piles of books, smelling the freshly printed sheets, later two hours more in a tiny cafeè, having one cup of hot cocoa after an other placed in front of us on the round table. I guess I fell in love with Svea right there in the bookshop. She suddenly was there in my life, and I loved her. I wonder quite frequently what would have happened, if I had decided to ignore her smile or just chosen another bookstore. I believe we would have met anyway, someday.

Svea

Spring began, and with it began our time. It didn´t took long before we knew each other inside out. Soon, there was a kiss. Our kiss. Our love grew, slowly, but steadily. And I grew with it. With Vincent I could be who I really was. I never had to think about what to do or what to say, there was no right or wrong, no left or right, no up or down. There was only me and Vincent, and it seemed like it would stay like that forever. Sometimes we tripped and fell, but we always helped each other get up again and fixed what had been broken. We could barely breathe without one another. With him, everything felt much more intense, and I got addicted to that. We ran barefoot through the dew at dawn and we danced in the vernal rain. Everywhere we went, we left a little fragment of our history, a small part of our souls. We were the prince and the princess of the world.

Vincent

Svea was my starter, my main course and my dessert in one. She was the earth I was standing upon and the air I was breathing. Whenever I was with her, I was whole. She showed me the world in angles I didn’t know. She was the missing piece. Sure, she wasn’t the first girl I kissed. But what was a kiss worth, if it wasn’t from Svea? When we were sitting at the lake, singing along to Svea playing the guitar, the world eavesdropped us and when we were gazing at the stars at night, we were eavesdropping the world. If ever our love had been lukewarm, it was growing smoking hot. I was filled up with this amazing creature, with my nixie, my pirate, my snow queen. My soulmate. I love you, I love you, I love you.

 

 

Svea

With Vincent, I had the summer of my life. We were together day and night. We talked, we laughed, we kissed, we fought, we loved. We lived. What had been lukewarm in the spring, was smoking hot now. An ‘I love you.’ and a kiss in between sweet ice cream and suntanned skin. Vincent took me with him on the carrier of his old, red bike as we drove to the shore. We searched for a small dune and we were just sitting there, wordless, for hours. Our own little world of sand, wind and the sound of the water and the crying of the seagulls. Our fingers entangled, we were sitting there, the salty wind playing with my hair and blowing them into Vincent’s face. But we didn’t move , until the sun was long gone, fearing that everything would fall apart if we did. We didn’t want to wake up from our dream. Vincent and Svea. Svea and Vincent.

Vincent

In summer, I caught fire. Our laughter rolled off the dunes like the water off our skin. We talked about everything one could talk about. We laughed about everything one could laugh about. We thought about everything one could think about. We lived as intensively as one could live. We loved as purely and unconditionally as one could love. The sand the tides took with them far away, to places we dreamt of, carried our names. We started walking in the morning, without destination, we were holding hands being everywhere and nowhere at the same time. But on each and every evening, we would be back, laying to rest, two unresting wanderers, alone together. Sometimes Svea would sit on the carrier of my old bike and I was driving so fast that her hair would flicker around her face and the wind would howl against my ears. We drew the life in the most amazing colours we could possibly find. Artist and muse.

Svea

Along with the cold, death would stretch his fingers towards us. I got the diagnosis one Saturday afternoon. My world turned gray and my thoughts faded. There was only one word left in my mind. A name. His name. Vincent. He mustn’t ever see me suffer, I knew, he would be sick along with me. And suddenly I was standing at the edge of the world, everything around me starting to break down. My feelings were extinguished. All that was left was cold, dark nothing spreading inside me. I wrote the words, that I would say to him in the air, the words that would chase away the rest of what was left from my luck. I looked Vincent in the eye when I told him these words, and our little bead cracked into a thousand of small cullets. The End. I couldn´t tell him about the disease, I had to keep him away from its fusty blackness. And so I called him no reason, nothing to hold on to and nothing to think about. I just took a hammer and annihilated everything we had. His tears shimmered and glistened in his face. I wished I would have collected and stored all our moments in a safe place, so I could just fetch them anytime. But it was too late. It was over.

Vincent

She came to me on a Saturday evening. Her wings, recently bright and majestic now were grey and broken. My angel had fallen. She brought me the message I had silently feared so much, that I had never allowed myself to consider it possible. My angel set fire to our paradise and didn´t even tell me the reason why. She disappeared so quickly and quietly as she had appeared before and left me behind, among the ashes of our broken world and the taste of salty tears on my lips. The poison of her words paralyzed me, I was unable to hold her back, unable to save us. To save myself. (Das Gift ihrer/der Worte lähmte mich, ich war unfähig sie zurückzuhalten, uns zu retten. Mich zu retten.) I was falling, but I never reached the ground.

 

Svea

The snow fell slowly, and I wished I could melt on the gray asphalt, just like it. Without pain or farewell. But even more I wished to be with Vincent. I pined myself over him. Day and night became blurred, just like watercolours on a sheet of paper. And then he was there. All of a sudden he stood in front of me, my beautiful broken warrior. It was such a surprise that the protecting wall I built around my feelings for him couldn’t withstand. (Die Überraschung war so groß, dass die schützende Mauer nicht standhalten konnte, die ich um meine Gefühle für ihn gebaut hatte.This behavoiur was so untypical for him, that I never would have expected it. With taking me back, he showed (me) a shade of his personality I didn’t expect/know before.His courageous action/ this courageous action of him showed me a shade of his personality I had never expected) Everything we thought we would have lost came back to us. And like we had had the summer, we now had the winter. What had been brightly coloured back then, was now red and golden. We couldn´t live without one another, we knew that. But soon it would be time for me to go. Forever. Though this time I collected every second, all the invaluable  moments, because I wanted to be able to fetch them again. Now we were king and queen. I love you.

Vincent

Eventually, I managed to bring her back into my life and she brought my heart with her. I could hear it beating in my chest again. And when we lied down next to each other, my lips on her neck, I could feel our hearts beating in the same rhythm. I wanted to live again. My queen had finally returned.

Svea

As the pain in my body had become too large to hide it, I knew it was time for me to go. Through my  tear-stained eyes I could see fingers  writing something. I guess, those were my fingers. All my feelings, thoughts, needs, wishes and dreams were floating through the pen to the sheet. The last thing was my love. But even that I let go, it blended with the other things and very soon I couldn’t spot it anymore among the blend of my soul on the paper. For my last journey, I didn’t take anything except our moments I had collected and they weren’t heavy at all, so I didn’t really have anything to carry. I was empty, because even my soul I gave to him.

Vincent

I share everything with you, Vincent, but not death.
I love you.

I ran.

Svea

So here I stand, at the edge of the cliff. Underneath me, there is the sea, green and coaxing. It gargles my name. ‘I’ll be right there, I’m coming.’ So I open up my suitcase full of memories, I close my eyes and let go the moments, my precious, and the wind seizes them and carries them away.

Vincent

Waving hair. The world is holding its’ breath. No. No.

Svea

I know he’s there. I can sense him, standing behind me. Finally, I am free to go. Goodbye, Vincent.

 

Vincent

The wind. It captured everything and took it away. It captures my world, my soul, my heart. It also drags my body, my clothes, my hair. It wants to get me as well. My mind wants to leave, at any cost. But my body withstands, defending itself against me. Salty tears. Nothing more, nothing more is left. The wind has carried away all of it.

 

 

 


Submitted: December 16, 2014

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Abdelmalek ELMAKRYNI

i like it! it is worth reading mant times. keep writing this way.

Tue, December 16th, 2014 7:41pm

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