impersonal monologue
Will we meet each other again after the eternity? Will we meet each other before it? Where beyond times and spaces can I find a place for us both to meet, to be together again? Just to see you, to feel you near, just to sit by the distant light of the eternal stars and contemplate the Universe?
What did you lose, what did you find after you had left me that morning, when you had strolled away into that thick fog, not even saying good-bye, not even turning your head towards me? What did you lose, what did you find within our time and space? Did you try to substitute my devoted feeling for something new, something still untried, still unknown? What was the result?
I can see you through times and spaces and I still want to believe you would love to leave this Earth full of bustle and sufferings, just to find a place beyond times and spaces, by the distant light of the eternal stars, just to come to me even closer than before, to hug me and whisper: Wherever you and me wander, you are mine and I am yours through all the eternities.
5 August 2001. — Dzerzhinsk (Russia)