-You are the worst decision I could ever make – he said – but I love you
Sometimes souls stick to one another without warning, without a single second of hesitation. It is as if, in another dimension, invisible collisions and encounters are manifesting, secretly determining what is to come. Believing there is no true motive, reason is swept away entirely; everything is lightly, recklessly surrendered to the unfolding moment.
A walk along a wide stream. The winter landscape resembles a Chinese painting: distant mountains glimpsed through a veil of clouds, while ginkgo leaves, fallen in the autumn just past, carpet the riverside path in yellow, contrasting vividly with the hazy blue of everything else the eye encounters. Two herons alight not far from me.
At the confluence of two rivers, I see two souls enjoying their shared time. Long, dark coats protect them from the seasonal chill. Sensing each other’s presence, they smile as they walk on.
One of them bends to pick up a leaf, then lets it fall into the water. They look at each other one last time and, heading in different directions, they disappear—vanishing into the mist as if they were merely illusions. The river flows on to its mouth, where the sea pushes into its waters and where it divides again, forever, into countless branches.
It is hard to carry a burden the size of a person; it simply doesn’t fit inside you, there is no room.
Details of memory remain like treasures made of fire; one hesitates to call them to mind, almost afraid to look at them again, beautiful though they are.
Images, sounds, shared sensations, and scents remain—like the scent of your skin, which has always smelled of home.
I still see you in my thoughts. And it all feels so real.
Two lives parting, like a river at its mouth casting itself into the infinite preordination of existence, fading away.
The heron catches a fish, then flies away.
