I wanted him in the bluntest way. I wanted his warm lips, I wanted to look into his eyes, I wanted his arms around me pressed tight. I wanted him like the ocean wanted the shore. Like the ocean, I was constantly reaching and then running back. I wanted him the way the rain wants to fall, the sun wants to shine, the way words want to be read. I wanted him to infinity, to the millionth degree and no amount of rain could douse the fire I had in me for him.

The time wasn’t an essence in his presence. For once the clock just ticked, and I didn’t look. I do know that I would spend hours contemplating the words I wanted to say to you. But somehow no combination of the 26 letters we know, could hardly start to describe this feeling. It frightened me that even my own conscience and knowledge couldn’t help me. It petrified me that you magically made my sadness disappear. I felt guilty about being happy. I felt guilty for leaving my sadness behind, for we had become best friends. What am I without my sadness, and what is it without me? That truly scared the hell out me. The way my shadow disappeared through your starlight. You made the darkness seem kinder by saying good night. You taught me that the silence has its beauty, that staring at the stars is pleasing, that your past makes you the person you are now. You taught me that sometimes you need darkness to see the stars and that they can shine oh so bright.
I am trying my hardest to not run in circles and think too much. I am trying with every ounce in my body not to let you in. Fighting the happiness and how you are capable to take me to a place of the unknown. I am frightened to my bones that once that unknown place, becomes known, I will fall. Fall so hard and so deep, back into the bottom of the ocean where I came from.

There are a lot of stories caged in the stars, lots of wishes send upon them. Why do we seek for the truth in the stars? It’s the one thing we all know is real. The one thing every living soul can talk to. We look at the night sky and watch the stars shine from afar. They still love you dearly, because you are their favorite memoir. You see, every atom, every vein, every scar, even those bits of you that you think are bizarre were lovingly crafted from the blood of the stars. So when you go to sleep, say goodnight to the stars, because they exist to guide you through the night.

So dance beneath the night sky, whilst you take a sip of your wine, because the stars will smile. Let the thunder over take you as lightening fills the night. Feel the force of pure nature penetrate your skin. Spin with the clock and let the magic sink in. Let the stars reflect in your eyes, and let the sun warm your smile. Take time to appreciate and admire the time, not make it a sign. Live and let free, like the galaxy. When you see the stars, remember how they shined for you in times of darkness, and not forget them in the time of light, when the sun comes out to shine.
“There is happiness waiting for you on the breeze of the sky“ said the moon, “What if I fall“ answered the star… where as the moon replied, “But what if you fly?“

See if you have nothing to compare life as it is to, then how do you know this is the life you are meant to live. She whispered “I am nor living or existing”. Her heart had a fracture created by people, time but most of all, put there by herself. The absolute vile feeling of pain in your chest and the twisting of your stomach, when someone hurts you. “Cross my heart and hope to die“ she said while promising herself to never fall again. Never to fall for the idea of love, the feeling of love, or falling for a person to love.

When a heart breaks, what sound does it make? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is a silence, because when a heart breaks, the person becomes the definition of emptiness. Even when their world crumbles and falls apart in their hands, it is silent. There’s a cruel realization in heartbreak, and it’s that you know you’re about to live where the sun no longer shines; where you can’t even see that your clouds have gone to grey. All she ever wanted was someone to fight for me. As soon as a heart breaks, it feels like it’s scattered and there is no way it can be healed. “What’s your drug of choice?” a voice asked. “Hope,” she said. “The most addicting one of all.”
“Hope.“ she heard in a faint voice repeat after her. It was nothing more than her inner sense signing her. That sharp pain in her chest, the break of a heart, was a hope. “Only I can break my own heart“ she shouted. “I may have lost, but I have found my self.“ She remembered all the nights she cried her self to sleep, more times that a living soul could count. But there was no more worried nights, no more pillowcases cried full, no longer longing to long to someone. It was herself that she belonged to. An obligation to take care of her self. A promise to exist. It is not the end. Nonetheless, it’s the beginning. What a caterpillar calls the end of the world, we call a butterfly. Sometimes the corrupt things that happen in our lives, put us directly on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us.

Her face had created a small oblique smile, in the left corner of her mouth. A dimple appeared, together with the fire in her eyes. A long time had passed. “You will and must clamber through the clouds and exist.” She said to her inner self, deep down in her soul. Live her life like she wanted to. She rose like a skyscraper. She kept her promise. She stood at the top, and for once with the same fire in her eyes, enjoyed the view, the calmth, the fresh air, without looking for a way to fall.
In the season of autumn we first realize how beautiful it is to let things go and to move on.


Her hair blonde, as a summer day, and eyes that changed colour depending on what she wore. Smile from ear to ear, however rarely genuine. She found it hard to dig deep and realize who she was, the look of confusion could be read in her eyes. She didn’t really know who she wanted to be. A wallflower? Maybe. Lost? Definitely.
There were major peaks of highlight and happiness, followed by days full of darkness and depression. Pillowcases cried damp and her own skin ripped apart by her rage. Thoughts wondered through her head, day and night. She stood on a needle thin line between, continue trying and giving up. Too many times that line was crossed. She went from the highest mountain top with sun and light, to the bottom of the deepest and darkest ocean. No certainty. No guarantee where she would go next.
However one thing she always did, a mistake made again and again, was love. Her way of loving was majestic. However her kindness killed her. She gets blinded. Puts everyone first, but herself - that’s how she got lost. Now she was wrapped in a blanket of petals, surrounded by thick thorns, a soft beautiful heart guarded by strong walls.
Her life has been a continuous road of side paths and U-turns. Never moving straight to the mark, no matter how much she wanted to. How much she just wanted to go. But did she want to go towards the light? Or run away into the woods? No one really knew. Not even her. But it’s the journey that matters right? Not the destination. The beauty of the adventure. The idea that happiness is in the next place, the next job, or even with the next partner. Until you give up the idea that happiness is somewhere else, it will never be where you are.

She believed that the most beautiful things in life… weren’t things. They’re people, places, moments, pictures... they’re feelings combined in a moment of happiness. Trust the wait. Embrace the uncertainty. Enjoy the beauty of becoming. The beauty of a moment and a memory.
Has it ever struck you that life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going? That souls are rarely capable of living in the present with content? It wasn’t until she was pushed with all brutal force of reality, face forward, into the sunlight, that she remembered how beautiful it was. She was forced to feel the rays touch her cheeks and warm her up from the inside out. The light softly bushing her face and neck. A moment of pure appreciation and fulfillment. It wasn’t until she saw the rainbow that she started to value the storm that lasted for days, months, years. Once you are in the dark, you appreciate anything that shimmers, shines or gives off light. Well… she created her own light.
It was in a bathtub on an ordinary day, reading out loud to my self, from an old book. As the words fell from my lips, it was for a second that I felt my soul mending. My life had gone to bits and I was so unrecognizable to my self, that I probably couldn’t have picked me out of a police lineup. But I felt a glimmer of happiness when I started to comprehend the story created by words on paper, that was right in front of me. So pure and real.

 When you sense a faint potential of happiness after such dark times you must grab it by the ankles and not let go, until it drags you face first out into the dirt. This is not selfish, but an obligation. You were given life. It’s your duty and your entitlement as a human to find something beautiful within it.
Sometimes the beauty of life comes unexpected and unwanted, but it’s there. The choice is up to you to choose whether you want to accept it or decline it. It’s the moments of appreciation of life, and spontaneous laughter, that makes the beauty of the unexpected. It’s the first eye contact with a stranger. The way you smile after just a thought. A ray of sun touching your face. A song that you can’t get out of your head. All of this is unwanted. At least for me…

It’s like listening to a song on repeat and growing to love it. Understanding each word more and more, every time you hear it. Learning the melody by heart, realizing the significance behind the lyrics, and the feeling of happiness when listening to it. And you may not know what the song truly means to you, because it takes time. But the road to that moment is priceless. Happiness is just like your favorite song. Love is just like your favorite song. It takes time, patience and it’s a long road. But damn it’s worth it.

Content and happiness comes in all shapes and sizes. If it’s a word on a page, a story of a rage, or feelings for a stranger, take it, keep it and treasure it. It will take time, with hills to climb but keep in mind how great the view will be.

 It’s funny how time works. We walk around not really realizing what it does to us and what it does for us. It can whether away what we used to be, break bonds we thought were forever, and take away a moment we never want to leave… but it also builds who we are destined to be, who we are supposed to be with, and create the life we are meant to live.


It is in small, fleeting flashes where I fall in love with life: how my dog leaves his toys by my side when I sleep, so that I’m ready to play when I wake. How there is no better weekend recipe than warm coffee and singing in the shower. How some songs are exactly what you needed to hear. When there’s no better feeling than the sun simply kissing your skin. I want more soft days. I want enough time to paint the canal across the street. I want to spend an afternoon telling my dog how much she means to me. I want to make rose water and dried flowers for my friends, and I want to spend an entire day within the safety of my lover’s arms. I want to love. I want to love a man, the seasons, the rainy days, the words on this page. I want to love my life. I want to finish this piece of writing when I am 90 and say: “I fell in love with time.”



The sun came out stronger then I had seen a while, blinding those with her reflection on the water. However, a girl lifted her face into the sun. She took a deep breath and a soft smile appeared on her face. Loving the way the sunshine hit her face and felt warm. She sat like that for at least 5 minutes. She seemed in her own little world for that time. The sun slowly hid behind a big cloud. She opened her eyes and the smile disappeared in a blink of an eye. She turned to her laptop and wrote. What was she doing? Working, writing a story, or maybe messaging someone…. Impossible there is no WiFi here… She seemed stressed and angry.

Her fingers moved like the wind and pressed the keys as if they had hurt her. Maybe she was expressing her self, writing down her thoughts. Her eyes didn’t leave the screen. She was typing without looking at the keys. She seemed to be in her own zone. Typing without stopping, as if she knew what she was writing, flowing out of her like a waterfall. She stopped. The sun came out behind the clouds and shined. She sat back and lifted her face towards the sky. Smiled just like before. The sun disappeared once again behind a huge collection of clouds. Everything went dark. She looked back at her screen and closed the laptop with a soft touch. She looked around like she had lost something. Looking for something. What was she looking for? A purpose to keep writing, a person she was meeting or maybe just enjoying the scenery. She looked down and sighed. She packed all of her stuff and got up. Walked away with a sad look on her face. Was she disappointed because the sun had disappeared? Maybe she was. Maybe that was her moment of happiness. Of peace.

A simple thing of nature that meant so much to her. I can tell you that the sun made her feel happy. A smile that I hadn’t seen for a while. I would know because that girl was me.
He sat on the table along the water, maybe less then a meter away from me. He had ordered nothing… “Pretty sure that you’re not allowed to sit here, if you’re not drinking or eating anything from the restaurant Sir”. I thought, but said nothing. Once every few minutes or so he would look over to me; sometimes longer then I felt comfortable with... He was reading a book, which seemed older then he was. I have always admired people who can read a book like it’s a world of their own. He seemed so in peace with the environment and his little book. I envied him. The way he could shut down the world he was living in and step into one made of words. He had one of those old school backpacks, the one he probably wore to school when he was my age. I wonder what was in it… Another book? Who knows. He kept it close to him. As if he wouldn’t want anyone to steal it, or maybe he has had bad experience with pickpockets. Maybe there was more in the bag than anyone could think of. Lots of money, all in cash, or a picture of his beloved one. Maybe there was nothing in there.

Even though I didn’t know him, I wished I was in his shoes. Looking over the water, with no thoughts, peace in his eyes and a soft smile on his face. Content. But don’t judge the book by its cover. Maybe he has just lost his wife… maybe he doesn’t have any children that come and visit him. Maybe we’re more alike then I had thought. Both seeking a place to escape to. Finding the peace in the moving trees and calm water. Both no company to join us for a coffee and talk about life.
“Sir, would you like to join me” The only thing I kept thinking but too afraid to say. The more I observed him the sadder he looked to me. Alone and bored. Just like me. Maybe I didn’t envy him, but pitied him more then I thought. He got up and packed his book in his bag, and who would have thought there were two more books in his bag. Was he going to get a coffee or would he leave? It was weird knowing I wouldn’t see him anymore nor ask my questions I had for him.
Not even 5 min later I spot him in the corner of my eye, not just him. He came walking to the table with two little kids. A girl of possible 4 and a little boy on his arms. His grandchildren, no doubt. Not much later a women aged around 35 came walking towards them, sat down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She looked so much like him, I couldn’t mistake her with his daughter. So I guess happy ends do exist. He looked at me once more with a happier face than before. Maybe a sign? Maybe a sign saying it does get better, and happiness is just a few minutes away. Maybe a sign, hinting me that it’s okay to be alone and that you wont be like this forever. Or maybe it was all in my head.