Plus - Add Music to Emotion

14 - I'm not quite certain of your love (Little Bird)

Dear M,

Usually people say that Las Vegas ruins relationships. That in this city, the quest for gambling and winning makes people forget about fundamental ties like no other place. That the flashing lights of the slot machines are blinding.

In our case, that wasn't true. On August 13th something started in this very city. With alcohol as a factor it's no surprise that it did, but I remember that I was truly taken by surprise, because I didn't expected anything like this.

I just looked at pictures from that weekend tonight and it brought a smile to my face. We had such a good time that it's hard to believe we hadn't even known each other a week before. To tell you the truth, I noticed you from the very first day. Your dark hair falling into your dangerous eyes. Your muscled arms straining against the light blue shirt you were wearing. There was only one empty seat in the room, and of course it was next to you. I think that was the first time that my life felt like some cheesy high school movie.

Normally there is nothing remarkable about the first day of school. Introductions are made, organizational stuff is dealt with, and usually class ends early. It's always the same pattern repeating itself. But that first day was different. I remember the view of the pacific ocean from the window, the smell of salt water in the air mixed with the warmth of the sunshine. It didn't feel too bad to go to school when everybody else was enjoying their summer breaks. We were sorted into pairs and they instructed us to play that old two truths one lie game. A game that I will forever associate with you and that summer when everything started.

We finished early and spent the rest of the time talking and finding out the basics about each other. I remember my surprise when I found out that you only lived about two hours from me, yet we met on the other side of the world. I learned so much about you during those two weeks that our stays overlapped. When we had to say goodbye, I knew that it wouldn't be for long, and I was right. That night after our first goodbye I wrote my very first letter to you. Little did I know that it would become one of many and that our relationship would continue for as long as it did.

When I think of that moment I stepped off the train to see you again, a million different emotions rush through my brain. Seeing you again pierced my heart in a way I can't describe, and ever since then I have been living with scars on it. Every goodbye that we shared added more scars, but I was convinced they were only temporary. Only now do I begin to understand that scars are never temporary.

Our relationship was different from other long-distance relationships, although you could argue that whenever two people collide, it's never the same. But something about us made me spend endless nights lying awake, writing letters, songs, emails to you. The contents varied, but one thing never let me sleep soundly: I always wondered if we were on the same side.

When we were together, there was no reason for these doubts, but the more time we spent apart, they would creep in slowly and silently, so that I only noticed them when they had already grown to be tall, perilous creatures.

We were so young when we first met. I was four years younger than I am now, and it seems as if I was a completely different person back then. Even during our two years together I was constantly changing, and so were you. I guess that's one of the reasons it didn't work out in the end. Still, I wonder what would happen if our paths crossed now. Would we fit again? Or would it be clear from the first sentence on that our lives are better off going separate ways? I'm not eager to find out, but that doesn't stop me from letting my thoughts wander at nighttime. They start at the edge of my pillow and travel all the way to wherever you are right now. Maybe they meet some of your thoughts on the way and our two strains of thought pass each other without recognizing the other one, oblivious to the ones they swam along with for all those years, like strangers meeting for the first time.