Albastru

A inceput ca o soapta prin aer. Cerul s-a decolorat si a inceput sa curga. Furtuna pe care o simteam de ceva vreme pe piele, mi s-a strecurat pe dinauntru. Nemiloasa mi-a amestecat trairile, mi-a colorat ochii in rosu, si cu un tunet care m-a despicat,m-a trezit. In zgomotul asurzitor al ploii din pervaz, am inceput sa adun toate bucatelele din mine pe care le imprastiasem ieri. Am adunat toate promisiunile, toate sansele irosite si sperantele neindeplinite din tot labirintul de minciuni albe, negre si gri.

Atunci cand am terminat, ploaia se schimbase; era blanda, calda si vindecatoare. Durerea care imi fusese refren pana atunci, acum imi zambea ca o poza pusa cuminte intr-un colt. Cuvintele s-au stins si s-a asternut linistea. Inima ,inchisa in colivia aurita a mintii mele, s-a transformat in fluture si a inceput sa-si bata aripile. In valurile de ploaie domoala, vrea sa fie liber. Stie ca atunci cand ploaia se va opri cu totul, se va vindeca, si va putea sa zboare din nou.

Cautandu-te atata timp pe tine m-am gasit pe mine.

Pana astazi, amintiri strecurate din ziua de ieri , imi strapungeau nemiloase linistea. Acum au inceput sa se stearga lasandu-mi in loc sanse. Nu mai sunt sentinte, nu exista alegeri perfecte. Nu mai sunt rani. Au ramas doar cicatrici.

Vreau sa invat ceea ce credeam ca stiu.

Noaptea m-a eliberat din bratele ei si nu mai stau la marginea intunericului care schimbase in ruina tot ce am construit. Nu mai exista lupta si eu nu mai sunt o victima in razboiul celorlalti cu ei insisi.

La granita dintre doua vieti, acum astept zorii galbeni. Dimineata vine mereu incet, odata cu primul “Hello” si ultimul “La revedere”. Nu stiu ce vrea ziua de maine de la mine dar stiu ca dupa furtuna, lumina e calda, si stralucitoare iar eu sunt copilul ploii si al soarelui.

Si am sa zbor, asa cum am facut-o mai demult. Un fluture, nascut sa fie albastru pe interior, care tot cautand raspunsuri la de ce si cum, uitase ca are aripi.

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It all started with a whisper running through the air.The sky lost its colour and started to flow down towards the earth. The oncoming storm I’d been feeling on my skin for some time, found its way inside. Mercilessly, it stirred my feelings, painted my eyes red and with a thunder strike cut me open waking me up.

In the deafening sound of the downpour battering against my window, I started to pick up all the pieces I had scattered from myself the day before. From a labyrinth of lies, black, white and grey, I picked up all the promises, the wasted chances and the unfulfilled hopes.

By the time I was done, the rain had changed – it was gentle, warm and healing.

The pain I used to hum as chorus was now smiling at me like a picture forgotten in a forsaken corner. Words died out and faded, leaving room for silence. My heart, locked away in my mind’s golden cage, turned into a butterfly and started to flutter its wings. A wish to fly freely like the waves of gentle rain. It knows that when the rain has stopped, it will heal and fly again.

In my search for you, I have found myself.

Memories used to creep in from yesterday and pierced my tranquillity without remorse. There are no more sentences, no perfect choices. There are no more open wounds. Scars are all that’s left.

I wish I could learn what I thought I knew.

The night’s opened its arms and released me. I am no longer sitting at the edge of darkness. It ruined everything I’d built. There are no more battles to fight and I’m no longer a victim in other people’s war against themselves.

Sitting on the border between two lives, I’m now looking forward to the yellow dawn. Morning comes slowly with the first “Hello” and the last “Good bye”. I don’t know what tomorrow wants from me but I know that after the storm the light is warm and bright and I’m the child of the rain, I’m the child of the sun.

And I’ll fly once more like I used to do before. A butterfly born to be blue on the inside. In its search for answers to all the why’s and how’s, it forgot it had always had wings.