One day we'll be old.

You woke me up with this song. At 1:30, one hour and a half after the moment, when you said you don't want to talk today, because you're too tired and you almost fell asleep in the middle of the sentence.
Sure thing, let's talk maybe tomorrow. Maybe never again.

I went to sleep with my ear-stoppers but the sound of a deep bass of this song, coming through 3 walls from your room woke me up.
Not that it's so beautiful like some of my favourite songs, and not even the lyrics, which fit to the status too well. It just makes me think of you. And thinking breaks my heart every time it occurs. Even your room smells like a heartache. Because all of this memories, and all those things and places which will forever remind me of you. And your smile... But didn't I read something like this somewhere else already?

I tossed and turned for some minutes and decided to leave. At 2.00 I was already on the roof of library, writing. In a perfect silence of a small town, with no more sounds of the evening, and yet no birds, in a smell of linden blooming and all those magic smells of humid Summer night.

But wait a minute, wasn't this blog supposed to be about travels?

I dream about travels lately a bit. I dreamt about a red Volks Wagen van and the house in Alps (the one from my other dream, where I wake up in sunset light with a confidence,that this is my home). I dreamt about Panda, that she came back, when few days ago she didn't show up for the night and we luckily found her in the animal shelter.

I think I also daydream too much lately, and then I travel back in time to the moments few months ago, when you were still close and we still shared our hearts and thoughts. When it was so beautiful, we were both in love and full of will, "when nights ended up in the morning, just because they were too amazing to interrupt them with a sleep".

Tonight we finally were brave enough to admit, how far away from the reality my dreams are. I invited you to join me on the roof and there, with the first bird songs and the first sun we were gone.

2,5 hours of poor quality sleep, two million thoughts, one "after-break-up-profit-and loss statement", one coffee, 40-50 tears, 10 articles on-line and 3 book chapters ago. Still holding on. I'm the tough one, am I not?

Forgive me, all of you who read it (and especially you, my lost, who will probably never read it) for being so personal - it's likely some intuitive way of heartache self-therapy.
Thank you for those imperfect times. I hope I'll learn on my mistakes. I wish you'd tell me one day, you've learned something too.

And yes, one day we will be really old.

Foto: Copyright © Mark Sass www.marksass.de, Bad Oldesloe 2012 – all rights reserved