•17/04/2016 • Lasă un comentariu
Because, when the end comes, nothing really matters.
The mornings when you waited for him with a cup of tea and the breakfast carefully laid out on your nicest plates.
That time when you ran in the rain to buy him bread because he wasn’t feeling well.
The note you left at the bottom of the lunch you packed for him.
The coffees you left out for him in the morning, with a square of his favourite white chocolate.
The picnics you prepared for him in the living room.
There are letters full of loving words, photos on the wall, plans for a future in a sunny place.
But when the end comes, none of these matter.
•08/03/2016 • Lasă un comentariu
She spent her 22nd in a coffee shop, next to a window, watching the world go by. She associated the feeling of loneliness with being stuck in a cold and grey city.
But the feeling never went way.
It was the day before she turned 26 when she realised it had nothing to do with the colour of the city she was living in.
They had all been sad. Some more hopeful than others, true. But sad in their own way.
Maybe 27 will be different.
•13/11/2015 • Lasă un comentariu
…and maybe one day I will step off the train and there will be someone waiting on the platform.
Yesterday wasn’t the day.
•25/09/2015 • Lasă un comentariu
„The engineer felt the need to speak to her. To ask her questions. But he was afraid it would be ordinary things he would tell her. How on earth to be original when in love? It’s only well known and very old things you can say in such context.”
Favourite snippet of ‘Prins’ by Petru Popescu
•23/09/2015 • Lasă un comentariu
„As mentioned, here’s a short letter to say hi, and to remind you that I am sat/stood/lying somewhere and very likely thinking of you. Electronic messages do a poor job of conveying sincerity, and phone calls can be tricky interactions.
So yes, here’s a letter and I hope it brings a smile to your face.”
Rereading paragraphs of the letters she had received throughout the months was what kept her sane.
•20/09/2015 • Lasă un comentariu
If there is one thing in life I’m absolutely terrified of, that’s regret. The regret I lost what could have been the best thing in my life or that I didn’t do everything I could have to make it happen.
•29/08/2015 • Lasă un comentariu
There are so many things I wanted to say to you. But I never got the chance to meet you.
I wanted to tell you I would love to pack you lunch every single day. I would carefully cut your sandwich just the way you like it (in half, but not in triangles) and put it in a silver lunch tin (the one I would have got for your birthday). I wouldn’t pack any dessert because I know you’re not the biggest fan of sweets, but I would sometimes leave a note at the bottom of the tin.
I wouldn’t get upset if at the end of a work day you would come home and throw your clothes on the floor. I would carefully pick them up and put some fresh ones on the bed while you were in the shower.
If ever you had a bad day, I would wait for you with a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and just listen. Or pour you a glass of wine and let you snooze on the couch while I cooked dinner.
We would sleep in every Sunday, get takeaway coffees and drink them in the park while people (and pigeon) watching, our favourite weekend activity.
We would very rarely go shopping and even when we did, we would spend the entire time brushing shoulders, hiding in the fitting rooms and giggling about things that only made sense to us.
Every Monday after work, we would go straight to our local pub, drink beer and eat crisps instead of a real dinner. We would always sit outside and watch the world go by.
We would walk past abandoned buildings and you would always tell me you saw someone at the window. It would freak me out and you would laugh and love every single second of it.
We would often fight and I would get upset and sad, but you would always manage to say something silly and make me laugh. And that would make all the sadness go away.