Forelsket

Hopeless romantic

"As if I hadn't lived all these years."

"It's all over now. It will get easier now. You'll see."

The head lies on a soft pillow, the shoulders are covered with a woolen blanket. Tharn's broad and warm palm strokes his hair and cheek.

Everything is so cozy around. Type does not spend this night on a lonely island lost in the blue waters of the fjord. Today he is at home with Tharn and his hospitable aunt.

"Everyone keeps telling me that I'm young, that everything is still ahead and if I just want to, the world will be in my pocket… But what should I do if I don't understand what my world is."

"Your world is you, Type. You have everything you need to be happy. And if you want, you'll let someone else into it. But you shouldn't feel obligated to be "with someone," because "you have to be with someone."

"It's difficult, Tharn… Can I?"

"Of course," Tharn smiles so much that Type wants to unconditionally believe every kind word he says. "You're a rare soul, Type. Do you know why? Because your soul is unique. It is the only one. So take care of it, protect it from unreliable people, pulling into the past memories and regrets about past mistakes. You are a tandem with your soul, you know? And you will cope. Together. Maybe it all seems incredible to you, too naive or even stupid, but often your best support is yourself, Type."

"Do you think I didn't try to change everything? Sometimes I barely have the strength to open my eyes. And I get up, do all this routine, force myself to take a shower, eat, go to work — just because it's necessary. But life…"

"I know, Type," just like in the evening, Tharn joins their fingers, strokes Type's wrist,  "I know. Sometimes it seems to us that life is trying to break us. But don't be mad at it for that. You'd better stop. Slow down. Wherever you are. Let life, time, and people run on, and slow down yourself. And take your time. Let your soul rest to find the way to yourself again."

"All this, of course, is good," Type brings their intertwined hands to his face and leans his cheek against them, "everything is right, you are reasoning… But I'm not going to make it, Tharn."

"It's not true," Tharn leans towards him and with his free hand adjusts the blanket, and then pushes it under the sides of the Type.

From such endless care of a person barely familiar to him, Type wants to cry. Just because another week and he would lose this  He will return to his usual warm world of cold people.

"Tharn…"

"Stop noticing only flaws in yourself. This is catastrophically wrong. Know that you have a lot of strength, you will overcome everything. Don't push it. Remember: a person needs to survive one night with trouble, then it will become easier. Whatever happens in your life, don't let it control you for more than one night. Do not rush to jump from the fire into the flames, but also do not allow dark thoughts to control themselves. Let you not feel instant complete healing, but it's not for nothing that they say: the morning of the evening is more complicated. The sun never forgets to rise in the firmament, and every new day is a new chance. So don't deprive yourself of it, Type. Let life give itself this daily chance. And let yourself use it. And the right people," Tharn suddenly adds, "will appear in your life sooner or later. We must be able to wait. And also be able to blow the dust of the past off our fingertips."

Type grunts and half of the face sinks into the pillow:

"Most of the time, it's like I'm face to face with everything that's going on around me. It seems that there are parents, friends, actually, not bad colleagues… But I'm still alone."