Not the Truth
I look up. Above my head there's still that noose that everyday tempts me more. Yet I can't. My sandcastle would fall down. My castle must stay intact til the end.0
I open my eyes, it looks like I fell asleep in the wide flower garden. I try to stand up, but thorns hinder me. They hurt, scratch my skin and some even go deep inside, but I, undaunted, stand up.
Today my sandcastle is still integer, too.
I walk through the many flowers. They're all so beautiful. It would be a wholesome garden, if someone could see it, but around here there's nothing but flowers. No houses, no people, nothing at all. Purely and simply flowers, in a expance that looks endless.
O almeno, questo fino ad oggi.
I see a sweet girl crouching to smell one of my garden's charming flower, she's got a big smile on that face with fine features and a sky-blue dress that makes her look more elegant. I come closer, and she suddenly notice my presence. Her big eyes, her nearly perfect face. She looks like a porcelain doll: an endless beauty, but fragile as few.
I reach her hand to help her stand up, she shily smile and in her turn reaches my hand, that I grap firmly, but with sensitivity, fearing that she might break under my touch.
«What's your name?» I ask her while we start walking in my garden.
I decided to be kind with her. If I'd be myself, I risk to break her. She's too fragile for the real me.
She looks at me smiling, and nods of dissent.
«So where are you from? Have you got a place to stay?»
She ignores me.
We keep walking more and more.
Until I open my eyes.
Memories of that person haunt me, her sweetness and heat that conveyed were incredibly pure, so much that they didn't even look sincere. I was the only one that knew they really were.
Without even noticing, memories overwhelmed me and took over my whole body. After some minutes, I find myself in the same point in which I saw her the first time. I can still glimpse her footprints of her small feet on the ground, despite it's been so long. If I (make an effort/undertake myself), I can even see her while smelling that sweet flower, no more alive.
That day, that last day, I went outside in the garden with a wide smile. When I've been far away enough, I took off my mask, falling again into ruin. She couldn't hear me, she was still sleeping, and she'd be too far anyway.
If the first days I was afraid she'd break, the last ones I understood she simply wanted others to feel good; she'd already been strong in the moment she had to.
That day, while both my mind and my heart were making fun of me, I saw a flower. It was of a shiny blue, the same colour of her dress.
I didn't loose time and grabbed it. That was the signal, I understood it was the right time to take my mask off in front of her, in front of that flower that looked a lot like her.
I came back home. In front of the door, my hands were shaking. My sandcastle was about to fall once again. I wanted to give you that flower after taking my mask off, but it was impossible. I couldn't show you the real me; I couldn't give you myself.
When I came inside, with the flower behind my back and the mask always on my face, you weren't there anymore.
“And I still want you”
Now I'm here, alone.
Once there was something keeping the castle together. Probably, the hope not to be alone anymore, in the future.
Then you came, to support my castle, to reinforce it.
Then you went away, leaving it weak, fragile, alone. Again.
“But I still want you”
