The time and great loves

 

Do you feel that you choke as happiness.

That's too much, you're not worthy as well, who has overcome so suddenly ... two hours sit and watch you sleep. I pulled a chair to the bed and contemplate his face so beautiful, frowning slightly haughty, even in my sleep. A glance all, and I do not believe it's here in my bed with me, that just a few hours ago I made confessions that I did not expect to ever ...

Nine years have passed since then. Nine years, where I stopped to get her out of going, looking for her everywhere, trying me I should not wonder why he disappeared from my life so suddenly, without giving any sign . "Disappeared, I heard so do it," her friend told me the best. No she had not seen for months after our breakup. None of the seven or her friends, with whom spent many wonderful moments, no longer seen since then, although that is still heard in the city, do not go, as once rumored. I knew that this is her soul town or city that it is the soul, or so I remained in that city imagination gorgeous foothills. For me, always, this city will mean Nancy.

Two hours I have not moved from his chair. For about three times I dared to caress brown hair touching his lips red, fleshy, and she took me with both arms, sleep, and she kissed me, then sleeping on. Effectively, I could not believe she's here with me in the room. No wonder what will be tomorrow, I did not know if the remains. It was possible to disappear again for years, maybe forever. I went down only a quarter of an hour to a nearby store, spending my last money to buy all the goodies, for when she wakes up. Then I tried to lie down to sleep, but I could not. He no longer see her face. So I sat on that chair and looked at her. For hours, attentive only to her features, which had not changed at all, and even though it was more beautiful than ever. There has moved in that time. He smiled sometimes, and once even and little laugh, chuckle, horribly sweet dreams.

A waltz under the starry sky

Nine years ... I remember every detail. Days of light, where you're more clearheaded and carefully than ever. And you like to forget. When I saw her, alone and seemed very sad, co temple supported slap in the wide window of a cafe in the outskirts, I felt my breath, standing in front of her on the sidewalk desert and entered as a charmed , inside. I sat next to her and sat there and remained silent. And she turned her slowly long neck, looking at me lazy, eyes narrowed, as two cuts brilliant, smiled slightly, then looked me straight in the eye, funny, somehow, and provocative: "What? What about you here? ... ". I did not say anything, or do not remember to have said something, but he then went with her on the streets, contemplating and going haughty queen, seeming to float over bystanders. From time to time, he turned to me, making me signs to follow, because he wants me to "show" its secrets: passages winding between buildings, as shadow falls across two old houses and orange lantern old man remained under the wall delineating the city sometime roofs "eyes" in the large market town of dusty, sun pours over or how an old tower at dusk. Details, always details. Angles, vaults, catacombs, lights, towers and bridges shadowy obscurity that I climbed the stairs and creaking rickety. The whole town know today far into every corner of its mysterious, only in her stories. I went over that day, I went over, as in a dream, taking us by the hand two children. Tall, erect, slightly higher than me, smiled, pulling, sometimes listening, talking to passers-by. She taught me to go "down", breaking with the entire sole from heel to tip in, to feel better earth energy; she was the first person I've seen him go "straight ahead", but out of the way men always dreamy and almost hurried, and everyone gave up some of its path, overwhelmed, though, his presence majestic royal. In the morning, he asked me where I stand, and I told myself that the old hotel remained almost unchanged for nearly 100 years.

 Unhindered in any way, entered detached with the same outfit noble in the luxury hotel, passed the receptionist who dozed dreamer, heading straight for this magnificent restaurant with mobile white

chandeliers and capitals gold, which at that time was deserted . Stopped in the middle of the dance floor, she made a reverence and invited me to waltz. She was the only dance without music I've ever lived near a woman, a simple and sober dance, like dozens of pairs were even then around us, dancing, and everyone that was there just for us invisible. At one point, he recalled that there must be "a tassel", somewhere behind the scenes of a button, you can "open sky". A sliding mechanism throughout the restaurant ceiling, revealing the true sky. And, ironically, he was also found. The ceiling of the restaurant slowly began to rattle, then open the noise louder and I, though scared, I kissed her in the middle of the ring in August sky studded with stars. When the alarm was triggered. I ran up some stairs, narrow spiral through scenery that broke another world, we crept like a thriller, corridors "secret" until I finally arrived in my room: a loft submerged the penumbra, mysteriously lit lanterns outside the city. He woke the whole house because the alarm and made noise, but my room was peace. There, under the roof, we kissed for the second time and also when I realized that our little bit in love. Then he left. I saw the floor as street stands the hotel on the doors wide open, whistling through the morning; besides careless passing police car that just arrived, and making my farewell signs.

House cats

The next day, at 10, she called to tell me good morning. "Come on, wake, what we do today ?!" I said so passionately, as if we have known since the world, and only briefly yesterday asked me if I felt something for her. And I just wanted to cry, receiver in hand, remembering her queen walking, thinking it is not so much happiness possible. I said I have to leave town for a few days because I like to remain, but she was not sad. "For us, there will always be time," he said. "You know where to find me, for my time there. There is no ..." There followed weeks at a time in which I spoke on the phone and six hours a day, telling us dreams and feelings, never anything concrete about life our. Were now can not live without those calls, rejoiced every time you call. At that time I was still married, I had two children, though my marriage was heading toward divorce much. Living longer separated from his ex-wife, almost do not even communicate with her, but took care of the little ones. As bizarre as it may seem, the "sin" that, actually, I could not ban me, I could not answer the phone, do not talk to Nancy. A day without hearing her voice to me would have made her go crazy. Only after a month and a half we came back to her hometown, with the tacit help of my boss, who realized without words, that are going through a special period. And when I broke the news to my girlfriend that come tomorrow, I felt really happy. We were happy together. Then I went to see that house convoluted, over a century old, always full of people, full of antiques and old books, among which towered motionless and glassware s tomcats with Asian scented sticks. And from there, one evening, amounted Nancy took my hand, telling everyone that she must leave "her boyfriend" as if everyone wanted to know and heed. The world which begins to spin with dizzying me ...

For months I lived only think of returning. I had come to know her city until the last stone of pavement, to identify with him, to feel the magic penetrate. I can not wait to stand in the way, to hug, to love, as if every day were your last. I am foreboding nature, anxieties, a certain sadness that goes beyond the human banal idea of ​​"couple". A desire ... knowledge, that's the word for something above the world, which makes every gesture or word to gain deep and passionate way with meaning. I traveled places the least "travel" of the city, standing both in many a park wilderness or a window empty cafe on the street, side by side, telling us what we feel at the moment, immersing us in the US ourselves in a kind of inner journey, we support somehow alike, to know themselves, to feel just silences or glances. From her I learned to use words to tell what was happening inside me, like a fairy precise and aware of it I learned so much ... And I believe strongly privileged, "lord of the world" together it. Because it seemed to me that we can do everything - even all - as we were both. We admire people on the street, strangers approach us as we prayed to let us see, because it makes them better. A pride that gives you just love fulfilled. Do not fit any longer into the skin of so much love ... And do not cease to contemplate the beautiful image, I shudder as noticing a suddenly raised his aristocratic profile, as it looked in the sky and, between squinting, I saw sometimes a trembling tears. A sadness for something unseen, unknown kind of miss. And this grief for a moment, climbing up a point somewhere above, then, as if remembering something, flushed suddenly and fell to earth with a comprehensive joy, sea and scrumptious. Only then he turned towards me and, realizing that a spy was ashamed least, smiled and took off my tongue. So she was, she could not "catch" at all, elusive, moving from one state to another easily co goblin; nothing dramatic, nothing directed (I watched this very carefully), but rather a continuous keenness of spirit, gestures, details, what makes you live with her always present. So it is now. When he was only 26, I 32. The last time we saw a few years ago.

Fear

Then suddenly she told me that she comes to me in the city. Suddenly, in a spring afternoon, she wrote only this: "I decided. Day after coming to you." I dare to ask beforehand if she have any plans, no wonder such things between us. I only knew that coming, she's coming here, to stay longer, we'll be just us, finally, and it filled me with a joy mixed with a kind of fear. For a whole day I cleaned up the apartment where I had moved from a time after quarreling with his former wife. I met with Nancy a Tuesday night in a park near desert under some statues, where she was standing, supported in a heel, boy, contemplating and if the tip of the boot, while wind them brown hair was stirring. He looked up at me and smiled. On her feet were two luggage. We hugged and we were not let go two weeks that I found the most wonderful of my life. When first told me he loved me, and I, actually, I could not detach my eyes off her. I realized that if I live so long, I will probably go off on foot. For I was completely unable to do other things. Two weeks I ate, I slept, I almost forgot my service. "I will die", the thought began to haunt me when I tried to swallow even a crust of bread and how many could not. "It is too much for me ..." And she was thriving and happy, and I enjoy it so much, "too much", as if I needed to breathe, not to be always connected to such intensity of happiness. "The human body is not designed to be long, continuous, only happy", I thought and I was surprised one evening when I asked her directly if he came to me as to remain permanently. He hugged and whispered to my ear that "Yes". And then, a fear not know where climb me, I said I can not, that is not enough strength to such a move, because I miss my kids and a normal life. .. Everyone has, I think such moments you regret it then. When words leave your mouth and not one of them can come back ... Moments of crossroads on the edge, as if "someone else" taking your big decision. I thought then very much at night. For years I've been thinking. If I had not done great mistake of my life somehow. But over time, I understand everything better if today would be to relive that moment, I would do the same.

The last train

I do not think this was, however, leaving the ground. Although when she flushed all over, he slowly let go of her arms and said: "I see ..." Instead, postponed his departure for another week, by passing days in a row where we lose one The last train. We met then, once again, just for one day, and seemed as loving. But even when I was there, suddenly, he hung up and never answered. Mysterious doors of her house were always closed then. We not fight, we did not say a word that could cause such a sudden disappearance. Simply

never has been! I gave vain, hundreds of calls and messages hoping, though, to see. He was gone again. The first year was like a long illness. It was like a death. Only time, very slowly, he managed to heal. She sought after seven years. I asked if I want to see come. We spent a week together, moment by moment, inseparable. As if nothing had happened. As we had parted yesterday. And while I wandered that town full of nostalgia, a late spring. I never dared to ask her about things of the past. Only at one point, I said it as casually: "Lord, Nancy, how long was it ..." And she barely a later, after two minutes, he said those words that I distinctly clear from the start, the wind caress his hair that: "How has patience during the great loves ..." Then he stopped, looked at me and smiled: "Time, not that nice of him ... s it? "

Again, never gave no sign, for over a year. Until a few days ago when I found myself with a message from her, which was to overthrow my whole life. I opened my phone and I just read this: "I am at the statues". I went madly home, I ran over and hugged on a bench, happy I kept silent until the stars began to fade in the sky. "How have patience during the great loves, is not it?".

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WHY DO WE FALLING IN LOVE ?

Soften your knees, not your longer wipe the smile off your face, you thought kept flying at him or her, safe symptoms that you fell in love. But what exactly happens in our body when the heart leaps with love? And is it possible to be in love forever?

The chemistry of falling in love

By their own statements, recent lovers think of the beloved 90% of the time or more. What scientists tell us, the 100 billion neurons of the brain are responsible for increased heart rate and emptiness in the stomach. The passion is greater, the greater the activity of certain brain centers that direct feeling of excitement and voluptuousness. Those brain areas that cause the secretion of neurotransmitters dopamine, norepinephrine and phenylethylamine, which make lovers have their hands wet and they put a lump in my throat. Blood pressure and pulse rate increases, breathing becomes more rapid, occurring sweat, excitement and euphoria. There are side effects, somewhat risky, of this "drunkenness" hormonal hyperactivity, decreased appetite, insomnia. This explains Valentine's dependence partner. When the object of their passion is not near them, entering a kind of withdrawal similar to drug addicts.

Fall in love's sickness?

Somewhat yes, but this can not be a reason to give up love. "Love is pure obsession, this longing, this madness is the very core of it. No hard we can control and put an end to them," experts say. The nature of the link between love is so tight that they miss each other as soon as they walked out the door. Science and stuck his nose here. Experts have measured the percentage of serotonin in the blood of lovers. It is a

hormone that provides mental stability. When the level drops, it is wasting and mood. The blood of lovers, when one of them is missing, serotonin barely reaches 60% of normal 10 milligrams - a similar situation to the psychotic, suffering from various fixations. The consequence of serotonin deficit: in the absence of a loved installs lack of energy and passivity, fear and depression. The conclusion? Equivalent to a state of infatuation "microparanoia" ...

We can learn to fall in love?

Most lovers say that they happened, simply to fall in love. Although they will not heed the science persevere in its research. Helen Fisher, a famous American anthropologist, says, for example, that drug enthusiasts easier to open this sense, have greater availability. But the flame of passion can be turned on and otherwise. "On all those lonely, who want a new love, I urge Go out into the world, let people understand that you are looking for a partner," says Fischer. However, it is not appropriate to accept anyone who comes our way. Love at first sight there is indeed (more often men), but at least half of lovers waiting a period of time before "surrender".

Why do some people fall in love often and others seldom?

It's sad when a dear friend and long communicative one, earnestly assures us: "For me there is no man can fall in love."? Especially that statement is completely false. We can fall in love almost anyone, provided they do not have too high demands. Psychologists say otherwise: they think some may fall in love hard, or not at all because of their biochemical constitution. Those people have difficulties when they have to recognize the symptoms of love and draw correct conclusions from them. On the other hand, we can deliberately prohibit us love, for example when potential partner is married or living far away. It's not easy, admits Helen Fischer and give the feeling heavier than physical contact "always meet people we would like to make love, and yet we are content to shake hands."

I can make others fall in love with me?

When someone does not want to fall in love with us, that is. But there are ways we could help we can change this situation. Psychologists believe that we have the opportunity, if they suggest we are concerned that the man we want, but inaccessible, and that he might be the only exception. "Listen to her, instead monopolized the discussion and to expose oneself to the fore", proposes Bas Kast, author of "Love and passion explanation." Assessing responses from students love, he learned that small gestures of affection passion can trigger other. For having the feeling that we want, start to be born in us the same desire. Other studies have highlighted the role of adrenaline in the emergence of a love story. "We are not escalating

heartbeat because we love. We fall in love because our heart beats louder." The famous "bridge experiment" conducted by American researchers, more male subjects were sent either to cross a bridge suspended on cables or solid one, built of wood. At the end of each of them was a beautiful woman who handed men questionnaires that were filled, giving them also the phone number for further questions. They have received four times as many calls from men of the suspension bridge, and researchers concluded that heartbeat, emotions produced by crossing dangerous with shivery knees goal and stomach, were transferred to the woman. Therefore, the writer Bas Kast we recommend that, without imitating Indiana Jones to soar occasionally with my chosen one in thrilling, like a race giant wheel at an amusement park or even watching a thriller. Thus, it will be hard to distinguish what they produce more emotion: the movie or the presence of women. Finally, for those who prefer simple processes: sometimes a sane argument can be useful.

There is an elixir of love?

The story of Tristan and Isolde, all happened at lightning speed: drink a magic elixir and instantly seized the everlasting fire of love. In real life, things are slightly more complicated. Helen Fischer doubts that in the near future will invent medicines capable of helping us fall in love. "I have to meet a variety of factors: the right time, plus a range of stimuli to which we are accustomed from childhood to react." It assumes, however, that "one day we will have the necessary means to change our brain noradrenaline dopamine levels, thereby enhancing the ability to fall in love even easier." Until then, we'd better eat chocolate, bananas and tomatoes, as also boosts production of dopamine.

How long can we be lovers?

Different studies on the subject oscillates between 18 months and three years. It states that, beyond this limit, nerve routes were already used surplus phenylethylamine. Stage is actually established mechanisms and evolution of species conservation, being long enough to allow choosing a mate to procreate, and the deposit enough energy in perpetuating activity. Neurochemical reactions may extend, when love encounters obstacles and has struggled to defeat them. But do not be sad because love has a cold: sexual exhaustion would destroy us if passion would continue indefinitely.

How we love how it works and the relationship?

 American psychologists at the University of Pennsylvania and conclusions expressed by the algebraic formula: Y = 5,44x + 6,62. Translated into ordinary language, she says the following: the attraction between two people depends on all common concerns and similar living concepts. In couples who have survived less than a year, there are fewer than those affinities remained united two to five years. Over five years of the couple, it's just routine and compromise for the sake of family relationship and children.

So opposites be split up quickly or adapt to each other. It is true that often tend to fall in love people that draw us in that they are different from us, but with time, precisely those qualities of their irritates us and make us leave them. Then we can only say: "Before, under canvas."

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HOW LOVE WOMEN ?

Above all, I wanted to see how it looks and I searched the internet. I found two photos, very different from each other. One had a slight smile, sad, barely started, and a full face unexpected gentleness. I did not know exactly why unexpected, but it was an amazing contrast there that I have not analyzed it too much. In the other picture, only features were the same. Otherwise, if it were another man. Eyes hidden this time as sunglasses, but faintly and made tandem with a smile, now wider, but the park closed in half, as if this man had not yet learned to laugh, and drew an expression slightly arrogant as if she could see someone else besides him. 

When we arrived, he was sitting at the desk and wrote something. I greeted him, as if I knew him all my life, and I felt both a huge curiosity to know really. It was rather the man in the second picture, that arrogance had taken place only a slight surprise but did not alter the expression of that stranger. He stood up and extended his hand to me and we said conventional name. I found unexpectedly high, although no more than 1.90 m, and the finding surprised me that I enjoyed and I think I blushed act. His smile was now a mixture of severity, curiosity and warmth.

I liked when we started talking, his balance and firmness, who came from stiffness, but a special kind of power, that seemed always mastered and circumstances and people, and dialogues. Then I could not let me gaze of smile that so exchange that appears when you'd least expect it and did not necessarily mean fun, but a delusion of complicity, as then disappear just as come and go let perplexed and empty.

With him, therefore, was to work on the project for two months. A study psycho-sociological called "How I love women" which must capture the differences between women and men in how to live love, playing as much as possible picture of emotional and behavioral completely, from beginning to end or in this relationship , based on case studies. Sample analysis was already chosen. We were supposed to interview "subjects" and state the theories based on conclusions that lead us stories. We did a thorough work plan and we agreed to meet after two weeks, when the strategy was to reconfigure, depending on the results to date. I invented excuses everything about the project to call him, because I was constantly thinking about him. I missed his smile, which was burning me, although I had seen him once. I wanted desperately presence, I wanted to be just a breath and touch me like that first day. But when we call him, he was holding me, gracefully and firmly away, although I suggest the tone is struggling unsuccessfully to be cold, that he feels the same way. And our phones continue. Day after day. More lively and impatient, and messages were increasingly transparent. I entered a dangerous game, but so sensual and intense that we could not miss it.

In those days I listened to stories of stunning beautiful woman whose unshakable power of love moved me. They were in love so simple and natural, with soul and flesh and life! Even when their husbands were one passion for another, they expected nobly, as a new love to pass. Or if they were looking to see, to comfort them and were always elsewhere, he answered with a smile unseen their absence, and remained there for when they would be back. I wonder if I have the high intelligence of the heart, to accept love with what might come. If I could give total against any events that moved me, however it would hurt. Or am I already had done? I decided to quit the study, it was beyond me to take him to the end. After all, what conclusions "scientific" we have arrived? And, especially, who would have used our analysis? Just then he looked evil. Let me say that he withdraws from the project. But he would like to meet, we met. I'm not surprised at all by the proposal, because the love of whack us, comforted us from the first moment.

Our story began when really, as a poem, uncertain and mysterious. With meetings, shy teenagers

undermined thousand fears. With downcast eyes and innocent touch casually, though intentional. Then I risked everything and more than we did growing. Dialogues have become more elaborate, and we each of them we have raised as distinct beings and strong and courageous. I recently dared openly to discover, then we hugged desperately and passionately, as if it would not otherwise have, until we've separated all. Understand, day by day, that I can not miss being of dual-shy when sad, you arrogant, that I was the pain-intimate close when untouched by far. Just like the photos that I met him first. But I learned to love him anyway were anywhere would be found. And I rediscovered, in turn, in our love. I was suddenly, all I knew about myself that I can be, always different, although equally: young, beautiful, free and happy. Soon we came to give a whole new meaning and simple gestures. They became our universe, a bed made after we raised it with memories huge life, a breakfast improvised tenderness, meeting with friends, an annoyance of the day, tears wiped love the cheeks, or sulk murdered with a kiss. Or small misunderstandings that we rise again, more loving and close. Safety and greatness to walk the streets like kings, knowing our loved and loving without measure, to death.

It's been almost ten years since we met. Thousands of days as starting and ending with the kisses of all, to which I respond with all my hugs. We thought at one point, our study recently abandoned. And we both smiled. We know more today than I did then? Probably not. Now we just love.

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THE FATE AND THE PAINTER

When I said it the last time we see you, sitting on the corner of the bed and never said anything. He looked blank, as if he had received the sad news of his life, the deepest, longest and worst of news, which was to make him miserable life. "But why?" He jumped into a place for him, "Why now? Why so?". Why hurry, you leave, you come, why not give him even a chance, why me, why him? Many questions that ought to be saving for us. But I feel that if even one second sitting around him, something was going to happen I would have regretted exceedingly sooner or later. I left, leaving him in the middle of the room with his questions which had not received a response. I left, not knowing if it was, indeed, the last time we saw.

Andrew had met long ago. He was a painter, a fairly known and appreciated, the new generation of artists, and come with an exhibition in the city where I lived. I had heard of the event and I really wanted to get to know him, because he was part of the artists that inspired me at the time.

Charismatic, visionary and very talented regularly watch his artistic development, which influenced my work and me. When I entered the exhibition hall, he was leaning against a marble column and row his paintings looked like he tried eyes, put his back frames. I studied in a corner from the entrance, without dare to enter into conversation with him, not knowing what to say first. I had seen many times on television, I had heard sometimes broadcasts on the radio, talking about his art, I admired him even studied his technique, we take the example of my own attempts to paint but never had had the chance to see him so close. I walked around the room looking at her paintings, studying them all carefully, trying to catch them beyond the subtleties of color. "I'd like to paint at a time, if you'll excuse me. I noticed how you come in. I think we should meet sooner or later," I heard suddenly a voice behind me . I turned and I saw his eyes, cold and gray, but I got to the heart. They included emotions and do not even know now, after all this time, what I said or even if I said something. I was shocked by addressing it directly. Nonchalance that amazed me was telling me so directly, all that stuff, I was just wonderful that I muse that he wanted, even for a single painting. I left my scarf slide off both shoulders and I joked, fitting us, and touch, and words. I pretended a little surprised by the courage I had, but I could not rejoice in myself, that I had chosen just me, of all the women present at the opening, and there were few who really deserves the attention of a man like him. We've separated all night, as if standing between us stories happened years and years. Laugh, debate various topics of interest, and, occasionally, after a break of a few minutes of silence, he told me the story of many a painting. Sometimes when sipped champagne, touched me gently on strands of hair, believing that not noticing, as if he wanted to paint even then, live. Besides he felt an incredible magnetism, which he never sensed him in the presence of any man. I was, myself, a budding artist, with barely finished Faculty of Arts, and he is one of the most successful artists of his generation. It was a combination of humor and mystery, classic beauty, male, strong hands that gently create. Tall, brown hair and penetrating eyes, he had a special smell of men's fragrance mixed with paint and oils, we feel quietly only when it touches.

I love him even then, that first night, but I oppose any bit, because I realized that it would be in vain.

My whole being felt floats. For the first time I conveyed my brain as I have no reason to hold the shields raised, I had no point in trying to pretend to be something or otherwise. It was a feeling of complete safety which provides me comfort especially mentally. I just got carried away, not knowing what will happen in my life. We parted at the end, with the promise of meeting again sometime, somewhere, without a precise target. Initially I thought it was a game that will last a few days, where we pretend that we ignore, and later to review and revisit everything from where we stopped. Even kiss me before I go. Suddenly on the run, before leaving without giving me the opportunity to oppose a kiss to us confirm that yes, we had to meet, sooner or later. I given my phone number, because I asked him, and now I was just waiting for her to call me. It's been long days, where I was just thinking to it, it's been nights when we paint from imagination. They have several situations going on the street when it seemed that I saw and I was very close to cry. There he called again. After a year, incidentally, unscheduled, we crossed paths on a railway platform. When I saw him coming on, I had the same feeling as our first match, coming out of nowhere same emotion, same incredible magnetism that time is not lost, but become even stronger. I had time to grab a coffee, waiting for our train, and we promised that if we meet a third time, all somewhere, sometime, incidentally, will be a clear sign that we are made for each other. I had the courage then to say I do not want to play, that I want him, beyond the paintings, genuine as it had shown me the first night. That no longer willing to wait another year thinking about it, and it's much easier to dial a phone number than wait for fate to do everything. He left, and I thought again that it will be a game that will last a few days. This time, I had asked me phone number, which had given me happy, so I was thinking that all things will become normal at a time, because if he had not had the courage to call or, if looked pure and simple, I'll do it. But I do not I called again.

After another year, I no longer had learned anything about him, had to participate in a group exhibition of painting in my city. Being an invitation to an artistic event, I thought several times that it is possible to reunite, there is even a small chance to see him again, I wanted to talk to him, and all the way I did was I am going to repeat the lines that would give them dialogues slightly funny, sometimes profound, which I had with me. We take into account all the variations in hand that would have occurred with a girl or wife, and I'm sorry if in a fit of pride I might have missed love of my life. There, in the end, looking for me to look across the room. He made his way through people coming up to me, took my hand and said, laughing: "Let's go!". We left without looking back, leaving behind everything, running on empty streets at the end of summer.

I woke up next to him in bed in his studio in a loft downtown. Wrapped in sheets, his skin felt warm hands, ready to devour me. He occasionally dip your fingers in paint and then next passing them over my body by painting me with kisses. After two years of waiting, the only fate helps us meet, and I was face to face. The same magnetism repetitions. Morning departure, while I was expecting

somewhat of a confirmation of what had happened between us, something that defines somehow our relationship, I heard from the mouth of the same words: can we meet somewhere, sometime, if fate will be our side. Disappointed by his attitude, I said then that it was the last time we meet. I left, leaving him in the middle of the room with his questions, which no longer had any sense. I left not knowing if it was, indeed, the last time we saw. I wanted from him more than a night of love than a coffee drink every year, I was sick so desperately seeking all figures foreign events and on the street, tired of waiting for the fuss, so many words that remain, every time, suspended between me and him. I went straight to the metro station, thinking I went home, I wanted to forget about artists, exhibitions, and to remain with my bohemian life and simple. After two hours, when there was very little and had to leave the house to visit my parents called me. With a soft voice, playful, he simply said: "Do not go. Not the other, but I still got you to paint."

We got married after only a month since I first entered his studio. Meanwhile, in recent years, we have become known both as artists, and had exhibitions worldwide. I learned with him that often, fate alone is not enough, because when you're given to meet the right person you have to fight, we have to struggle and you to move something, however small it be Your gesture, because only so big moves and things. Many years have passed since our first meeting, I stayed and now his muse, and he - love of my life, and I understand both, in the end, you and I should meet sooner or later.

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How can I share?

With her hand small and fine. And hot! Hot on the outside and inside. A small hand with a soul in my hand she holds my great and tired and breathless. I hold my breath to hear asleep, picking his heavy breathing of the man who fell asleep. I can escape to from her. She let me pull her hand out of his hand and go beyond. At him, her younger brother newborn.

I remember I race through hundreds of hours, even thousands I stayed beside her to sleep. Just sleep. And I feel that I raise my hand stole from me. That makes me feel her hand I do not belong to me. And it's nice feeling. Especially they belong . The man with the smile of a beautiful goddess. They belong, the one that makes me see myself, I reflect, I find, I find, like me and hate me, love me and forgive me. Let me 

understand.

And that makes me angry because I want to belong to me. Or even to me occasionally. At least when I need to pee.

And the wave of anger and helplessness to recover my self from the grip of her hand, through my head the next 30 years. Her rebellious years, the years leaving home, the years her love, the years in which you like to be snatched the hand. Be it her or others. Let's find. And shed a tear thinking that now I have the hand available from all hands its future. The warmest and most loving, the most unconditional and most possessive. The carefree hand of all. A hand only wants me for it, because it's too painful to share with her brother.

I can feel her breathing hard and I know she sleeps. I would like to turn on the hand May! Let me melt in her hand low and to remain there only her mother. They comprise clamp her hand with the other hand on heart, ask her if I want to feel her pulse small in my heart and I think what a privilege being so wonderful that holds my hand with her whole being.

I can not sip joy state of grace because I hear it. From beyond. He call me with his hand.

He just wants to be his mother!

I carefully hand the tongs escape her possessive love and run away from him hot dry lips and hands.

He did not like my hand. He wants me to squeeze the last body fluids and suck avidly. Preventively with a hand grabbed my other nipple. He drinks me like a beer mug with a scorching August day and  eats me like a hunk of meat to the lions feast. Too much expected to come from it. So he drink and  eat me until exhaustion. Let's nothing left of her mother. To devour all his mother. In one night.

It snatch with full noise, turns, and catch me.

He falls asleep holding my hand!

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WITHOUT REMORSE

It was Thursday and it was very hot, incredibly hot. Hairstyle not resist anymore. The hair stuck to his head, legs and bottom skirt, no air conditioning no longer cope.
I just thought the weekend comes and that's boring, we already knew what to do every minute. I was very bored and I felt very alone. And if you still .....

No, do not think, overblown yourself, you are now a married woman with children to raise. But even when convince myself, I passed through the brain thought that my husband knows not to make me vibrate long and the front of it, my fellow workers. Long corner smiling mouth when I saw it and I liked enormously do not mind me, although I knew clearly he likes.
One time at a party, talk to him about the problem and about discussing whether reincarnation really love the same person in every life. Live for the Far East and I just finished a book.

It passed quickly, and soon greeted me warm as usual, and I stayed with butterflies trapped in the abdomen. I knew she was alone, I knew not looking for anyone. Annoy me and I drew that do not mind me. Yet if ... pfffff, no!

Home husband informs me with a big smile on her lips that Sunday we go to lunch at his mother. And that's a joy he says it's the first time you go on Sunday - noon - his mother at the table. I smiled pretending they are on the brink of ecstasy.

I accused are lightly before thinking about the adventure, and I really tried everything? Why blame only him? Could it be that I have become boring in the marital bedroom?

Maybe we both changed. I tried it out on a walk after dinner. Refusal. I tried to make him look together in a movie (often together once we watch movies). Refusal. I expected to come to bed, I just Chanel (perfume) on me. So he came to bed, I fell asleep. It was normal to be late, but it was a league match on TV II. And actually, what I expected! This already happens when first child.

I woke up this morning (in Ciudad denial of Eve) very good mood and with a nail in the head ... If however!

And I imagined while sitting in the office and I went and heats all. And even if I decide what to do? Go ahead and tell him I want an affair with him? I'll take crazy. Excluded. I can humiliate me like this. Humiliate me? Humble? Hhhhhhmmmm, why take it as a humiliation ?

We met by chance in the hall to the coffee machine. I have skipped some words in your throat, I do not know that the brain has ordered:

- You said that your house is near a store with oriental. Where is it?

And even the next second I let my eyes down, I knew clearly that reads something instead of "oriental spices" in my eyes. And I was ashamed. What the hell? We have an age. I am a schoolgirl? Like I want to cook something Indian! Ppppffffff!

Am I entitled to vibrate, I am entitled to feel alive. I feel right on my own skin I'm a woman.

I have other uses than to see the house, children, relatives, etc..

I let my eyes down too late. Read everything they read.

- Tomorrow morning I'm home, if you want to come over for coffee and then give a round the store. At 10 would be ideal. She gave me the address and was gone.

I was like a fool next automatically. I felt super humiliated, I wanted to cry, to scream. What impression desperate I done?

Stomach pain due to nerve down after 5 minutes between my legs just imagining what might happen to his flat.

I sweat, I struggled, I suffered, I trembled all afternoon. Yes! We wanted! I wanted to go to him to do exactly what I felt, to go as safe with me as he left near the coffee machine and no longer stick never mind. Yes it have so much guts?

And who actually believed him? I ask him shop and he invited me to his home for coffee??? How do they afford it? Afford for you to read, I said and head voice, the voice would be a tight throat.

Of course I have to go to coffee with him forever. But what he thinks? I am a married woman. What he thinks, as I was I wrong husband?

Never. And I was dying of boredom??? Yes, better! But even I have to be clean, I will have no stain on the soul. I did my duty as a wife and mother. Ok! And then I told her husband that evening at dinner the next day I meet a friend in town to give a round ... are reduced. (How to get the reductions fall well anyway, and if it's adultery, see.)

E! So what? If I have to go? I could even go shopping tomorrow and Monday was no longer any bag in it. And if he asks months I was not I tell you blue in the face that I'm not a bitch goes home to someone drinking morning coffee, I really wanted to see the store. Point. Night.

The next day I do not know why I arranged it, I could swear I will not get to him. Still, I was very excited just thinking about what might come out if I go. But of course I have to go. I am a married woman who sees her job. Hearing nerve. How sure was he when he gave me the address, even thought it has to do with an adulteress.

But I could go to see store anyway. Can I get some spices and you surprise my husband cooking of Indian cuisine! Okay!

                                                                     ***

Steps but I just went on his door and do not know why but I started to not be so well ordered. I was very depressed. I felt something when we crossed eyes and know for sure that he felt. It was a unique feeling, warm and very pleasant. Yes! I liked him and felt a terrible need to have it and I have. If it hurt and thought that I thought was not coming. Supposed to feel, I had to live.
Let's fuck my husband those who believe that if you took your wife and kids did, pay house rent and rates to get your car. God, we and us to pay our rent, rates and even raise our own children. I need someone asked me before coming home if you need to buy something for the house. I really did not need. Can I do it alone. Even know how to hunt better offers than he did!

I need someone to comfort me with his eyes when he looked at me, to see even from a non tears flowed again. I need someone to ask me what's in my heart and not in the refrigerator. Lord, as we go down like this, instead we get in other areas in a relationship? Why (after initially going on clouds of happiness) do not know than to talk about taxes, children, food, gas price etc?

Does marriage really ruin feelings??

It was in front of me. I did not realize that philosophy as I climbed the stairs and I deepened the depression worse.

There was no coffee. There were two glasses of champagne. She stretched a glass. We collided and drank thirstily. Even I was thirsty. We looked at each other very deeply. She said in a voice strangled like: You are so beautiful! I asked with a hoarse voice, approaching me from easily reaching his ear and his cheek against my cheek. "Let's not talk!" And I talked for a long time.
I do not know whether we "like two crazy love" but I felt I dreamed I vibrated, I had sex, love as though it was the first and last time in my life. I never knew I could do what I did in the morning because I had not done before. I felt like I came in and he will not quit. I felt as if my whole being in there would have been from the beginning. I like being rebuked by his long time girlfriend

"How long were you waiting? Really do not feel my posts? Really do not know the first moment you'll be mine?" But I was not there to answer her, I was somewhere in the clouds, I was a single butterfly, beautiful, happy to fly as high because I only consciousness that you fly today.

I was happy! Even happy, not stories. I stood up, my legs were shaking. I wanted to go faster. I was scared that his vision will be his. Luckily call and mobile. I mumbled something and I immediately dressed. I left.

I left as he left me near the coffee machine. Confused full. Feels no guilt. I always thought that if I cheat I have guilt over his head. Nothing. Do not feel guilty about anything, from none.


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HUGGING IN THE KITCHEN

The kitchen is my favorite place in the house. Here I like to drink coffee with friends, to check my emails, even now all I type at the kitchen table, although I can not complain, I have other options.

It is a relationship created in time and finished with every event that happened here and every flavor we flooded nostrils. Here he makes and Brian, our son, homework, while I can see of mine and, if necessary, I May give one tip about splitting words into syllables. Here we take important decisions for the family. I have a table of natural wood, solid crust as thick legs that are visible traces of knife, stitches of pencil, trace colors. A meal that we know on each of the house.

At first we became friends

Once, before I was married, when I realized I did as a student, that to have food, you have to cook the relationship with this part of the house was one shy. Perhaps it also helped that enter cautiously into the kitchen because I expected all the time there to see my mother, who died quite early on when I just walked in the realm of adolescence.

At first the recipes dictated to call my grandmother. With fear and especially attention to the money allocated food. The same money could well have been turn to books, clothes, cigarettes or going out. I went "flirting" and we said we love each other when grown after I started taking a salary. Back then, it was clear that I can not survive without food.

What followed was pure passion!

Oh, how good it was when I discovered that I can cook well. Okay, well everything. That could spoil my

friends with one traditional way or rather exotic. Every ingredient I translate into ineffable alchemy. Spoon hot wood brought for tasting sauce with a touch of Indian flavors, sweet and spicy. Ginger complicated and prickly like a winter morning, pink pepper, extravagant and decadent, fluffy magic that turns on every house "home". I changed to a better stove without flash. We have invested in knives, small ceramic pots and utensils peeled, chopped, sliced​​, cut, boiled, baked. And slowly I felt fiercely angry than the (rare) cases where we gave one food from the earth. Two things are certain: cooked with passion and just when I feel like it. Like in a relationship at the beginning, a seductive secret love between me, that my taste buds confident - and she-cuisine, permissive, frisky, generous. We loved passionately until crust have installed the necessary baby food.

It has changed

Once the last child from breast bowl began a relationship more thoroughly, and levelheaded, between me and my kitchen. Now we meet twice a week to watch the evening to make out. We met daily with sultry long standing, no longer have time to do compliments or to surprise each other. Recipes simple several times a day. Just for the simple delight to the taste buds. Over time I started to get bored kitchen, she told me that I have become mainstream. Had settled routine and cold, not to mention! I knew what to expect, and mashed carrots with zucchini did not make the heart beat faster anyone. However, I had moments of intimacy with one cooked dinner later, spicy and refined - so as to remember why we fell in love in the first place.

Then came the baby at the table

When he was old enough to put the blender back in the cupboard above and a little to eat what we eat, over

all passion. By now, the spirit of saving time, cooked for us all he could eat and the young being who filled our days. We said goodbye for now to many things a few years kiddie considers Nasty, but that we adore. We shuffled here and there, spices and tastes that this was common and small. But I like to hide from myself: baked chicken legs, mashed potatoes, chicken soup and the fruit cake made ​​it on my kitchen wondering what she saw in my first . She made ​​it clear that this rate reach divorce. That I turned into a housewife and that I would embarrass the refined televised cooking competitions. "Good thing you're smart," I replied, slipping into the oven some meatballs with meat and vegetables. Smiled to myself because secretly slipped half a teaspoon of allspice and I knew that moment-not the furnace will release an aroma into the air to the nose can give: "See I still have something special?" Lucky that my kitchen did not like to run another younger!

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