Darkness and silence

“Someone once asked me what I was most afraid of. I said stairs and death. But with time I’ve stopped taking the elevator and started climbing those damn stairs, even if my legs were shaking. I’ve started to believe that we are all just energies that will come back in a different form, so the dying part didn’t look so scary either. But when I’m alone in the shower, and the water runs faster than my heartbeats, I know it’s love, the one that I’m the most afraid of, that terrifies me, that hits me in the chest so bad that I can hardly breathe. The love that I’m missing. The lips that aren’t kissed, the arms that are empty, the bed that it’s not shared in the morning. The “how was your day”s. The “have you eaten today”s that are not said. The nights spent in darkness and silence writing letters with the fingers on the bare skin.
The conversations about why the banana is not called yellow if the orange is orange. The questions like: if the countries were human beings how would they look like? Is Spain a she? Is England a young aristocratic boy with a vintage clock in his pocket? Is the old neighbor happy? Has he become what he dreamed when he was five? The waking-up late on a Sunday morning and the over fried omelet. The dancing in stores when Paolo Nutini hits. The bottles of cheap wine that you regret in the morning. The smell of grass in the early spring when the sun rises. The fights about the coffee that’s too sweet. The dressing up for a party that we’ve never been to because we’ve stayed in watching a stupid movie. 
Isn’t funny how one can be afraid of something that never happened?“

Gabriela, 25