The Morning Has You

The sun would always rise, or so I thought. I have never really considered the possibility that one day it would stop rising and then the world as we all know it, would just disappear. Yet that early morning, the sky was still fervently indigo, and the mighty sun was still nowhere to be spotted in the eastern horizon. 

From the balcony I was standing in, there was a bit cold feeling clinging in the weather, but the atmosphere for sure felt fresh. I hugged my arms tight, watching the gentle wind blowing all the trees and taking away some of their leaves, before eventually leaving them behind. I watched those leaves falling down to the empty yard like green confetti after a big orchestra. I have always loved falling leaves since forever ago, as to me it was like a grant poetic gesture. Was it about loss? Or solitude? Or an atonement to the past? 

I turned my head to the bedroom behind. The curtain stood still, and the indistinct ray of light had created a shadow on the floor. I could see that he's still sleeping, soundly; the very same peaceful face I had touched the night before. I smiled remembering every detail, and the same time, he opened his eyes, still sleepy, but I could feel that he's smiling too. 

He reached for his glasses, then still with only his boxer pants, he walked through the sliding door to the balcony and hugged me from behind. 

'It's cold here,' he said. But he's warm. He lied his chin on my shoulder. 
'It's beautiful here.' I said. I turned to him. He kissed me. 

It was the very first morning we wake up together. 

the warmth

It was already dark outside when I returned home. I was extremely tired but the thinking that he'd be inside waiting for me, had carved a smile on my face. So I opened the door very slowly, as if the serenity would break had I created loud noises and then he'd run to the door just to find me.I took my shoes off, gently, then with my socks still on, tip-toeing to the kitchen nearby to wash my face. I had wanted to always look fresh and lively when with him. 

He was reading by the fireplace in our small library, the smooth carpet and a moderately big sofa just in the middle had made the room cozy and comfortable. For a moment I stood still, couldn't decide the source of the warmth radiating from the room: is it him or the yellowish reading light? I hugged his shoulder and he greeted me while putting his book away. It was a book by Kafka, the one that he had spent almost forever to look for. 

 

'How are you?' He said, lightly kissed me. 

'Tired,' I said, walking around the sofa and sat beside him.

He smiled, 'Come,' he patted his laps, to which then I lied my head down. 

'I miss you,' he said again, his hand caressing my hair. I sometimes still found myself quite amazed by his small gesture despite the years being together. I looked at him again very closely, and this time he returned my gaze. There was this peaceful serenity again, and it was as if nothing else mattered. It was like there's this warm blanket covering us, that I was safe in his arms, and that we could forget the rest of the world for a while. And more importantly, that we had each other for God-knows how long.

 

'I miss you too,' saying that more to myself as I know he would have known already.  And that precise moment, I know that the warmth was radiating from him.

s.h.a.m.e

perhaps everybody's running from something. something really dark that we don't wanna know, we don't wanna face. but it's there. yet the question remains: where is the end point of the run? 

in this second feature film directed and written by Steve McQueen, we're introduced to a healthy and lively handsome man named Brandon (Fassbender - this is in fact the second time they worked together after the famous 2008 film Hunger), who was also hiding neatly the fact that he's a sex-addict. there's no explicit explanation as to why he was who he was, yet interestingly that's not the key-point the film had wanted to describe. the lack of dialog - despite that it was set in the famous city New York - with the tall and cold building as the backdrop, merely added up the gloomy portion of the movie. perhaps, one could say, as dark as Brandon's past. 

his endless sex routine was then distracted when his sister, Sissy (Mulligan), came into the picture. the woman, in a way or two, was actually a resemblance of Brandon's pathological problem: she was very much clingy to men to the extent she would beg for their love. 'New York, New York,' she sang the famous song in a cafe in a very slow tune, and it's painfully mesmerizing. it was through Sissy that Brandon slowly realized that he had the same pathological problem. 

there's no problem-solving there, although we did see Brandon's questioning himself and his morality (perhaps) everyday in silence. but knowing your problem (to the extent that you want help) isn't the same as questioning yourself - yet, again, this is not a drama that would give us any glimpse about that kind of fight. this is a movie where everything is laid down and given back to its viewer point-blank to interpret (and perhaps, to relate). so Brandon ran away from a woman to another woman - and instead of healing, he created deeper and deeper black hole inside his soul, and this was the core emotion of the movie after all, as the sex-scene and the full frontal nudity (which earner the movie an NC-17 rating) were so paralyzing that there's nothing sexy about it. 

in the end, 'We're not bad people. We just came from a bad place,' as Sissy told Brandon over the phone. and to that, perhaps we can't really escape. 

A month of Happiness.

him: what i know now is.. you have made me invested my heart on you.

me: what i know now is... i enjoy being us. 

him: i like the word 'us'. 

me: *silent pray.. not gonna share here :) *

The Norwegian Wood-kind of love

“…So I made up my mind I was going to find someone who would love me unconditionally three hundred and sixty five days a year, I was still in elementary school at the time - fifth or sixth grade - but I made up my mind once and for all.”

“Wow,” I said. “Did the search pay off?”

“That’s the hard part,” said Midori. She watched the rising smoke for a while, thinking. “I guess I’ve been waiting so long I’m looking for perfection. That makes it tough.”

“Waiting for the perfect love?”

“No, even I know better than that. I’m looking for selfishness. Perfect selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortcake. And you stop everything you’re doing and run out and buy it for me. And you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortcake out to me. And I say I don’t want it anymore and throw it out the window. That’s what I’m looking for.”

“I’m not sure that has anything to do with love,” I said with some amazement.

“It does,” she said. “You just don’t know it. There are time in a girl’s life when things like that are incredibly important.”

“Things like throwing strawberry shortcake out the window?”

“Exactly. And when I do it, I want the man to apologize to me. “Now I see, Midori. What a fool I have been! I should have known that you would lose your desire for strawberry shortcake. I have all the intelligence and sensitivity of a piece of donkey shit. To make it up to you, I’ll go out and buy you something else. What would you like? Chocolate Mousse? Cheesecake?”

“So then what?”

“So then I’d give him all the love he deserves for what he’s done.”

“Sounds crazy to me.”

“Well, to me, that’s what love is…”
― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

I want that kind of craziness.
And for that, i am willing to wait.
However long it will be.