The wind blows hard tonight

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A hard wind blows  tonight and shakes my windowpanes. I sit all alone in the night in my living room  far away from you while you travels on precarious roads, hoping to get safely back to your home-town.

 I wonder what you are thinking,  now when you returns home with nothing  but tears spilled, money lost and your pride on the run – and the woman and life you made all your efforts for even more beyond the reach  – and perhaps even  lost forever?  Yes, what will be now? Will you ever again get the strength to create such a tremendous hope to find happiness in your life? Or is it all over for you? For us? You don’t know for sure.

You are very tired and worn out now, I can feel it in me.

What will it like be back home? Will you return to your former life – go to work, do some athletics with friends on your spare time, drink with them on Saturday evenings, watch some TV football games before sleep, go to church the next day with a headache, praying for forgiveness for nothing of importance… and laugh your laugh for nothing but with a hole in heart; and learn nothing about nothing; thinking nothing thoughts about nothing… simply go on with your life and let the years pass by, and in the end die as a good average man… all for nothing?

But you miss me as  mush as I miss you.

Having a good simple life was never  enough for you. You searched for someone to love and then you chose me to be your queen, and you put me in your romantic dreams and got me involved, and I became like your angel in an iridescent sky.

You made me to a promise for something more than nothing.

And eager you rushed off once – and  once again. And you lost it twice  – and   nothing was what you got. I don’t know for sure if  there ever was a “we” in your plans and dreams, was it? Or was it all an overwrought man’s undue fantasies about prospects beyond  reach? The sky there you discovered me showed in reality to be a dream vision in the mind of a man who is excluded from my part of the earth.  And you are barred from meeting  me.

And we are driven apart.

You are so very distant from me. And I’m so confused and in a sadness you don’t want to hear about, or won’t bear the hear about. You say you want to move on – as if nothing bad had happened. And you tell me nothing, only ask me to not bother your mind with what you say is already past. But what is past for you, that’s where I am now. Only when you went on that bus back home I was able to relax – and then I just cracked. But you haven’t notice , only tells me when I ask about you  that everything is “normal” with you and you are  “doing great”.


The wind goes on whispering and whining in my dark nights. I’m still sitting here alone and far away from you, while my empty hours passing by. And handed over to myself and my ghosts, it boils down to my forever returning anxiety-ridden horror views in eerie nights; the grim grinning “true” mirror image: will there ever be more than like this for me in “my miserable life”? Those forlorn feelings you don’t want to have from me. But it’s me as well, although not for the noble and glorious angel you wanted me to be, I can agree on that. But I was never a queen or an angel, and I will never be. In my saddest moments I feel like nothing more than scattered shards of a life meant to be.  And my disappointment now knows no borders, and no limits!

Will I ever get more than this? Is this all what we get?  Is there a “we” at all?

884 stenar trimmad

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