It was summer when, night after night, we fell asleep with fast hearts and hurried dreams of sunlight, heavy air and summer rain. You kneading my spine and pulsing through my veins, me promising myself that happiness never hurt anyone and, if worst came to worst, misery is always refundable. Seconds diffused into days and memories in the making as I was holding your hand, growing luckier day by day. One morning, you said that you had never seen a spark before, that most people don’t sparkle. I felt beautiful and a little broken and believing all at once, trying to laugh myself out of my fears, knowing I was light years away from being the brightest star in the Universe but your eyes were so used to darkness that even a shred of light could blind you. Like dust particles exposed for twenty seconds by summer sunshine before moving back into the shade, happiness lasted until late August. Then you held me an extra second, enough to let me know that it all meant something to you too.
Then it was winter, coffee cups, train stations and flowers in strangers’ hands celebrating lovers’ day. Everything that was once so familiar had transformed into thin air and blankets of snow along the sidewalks, avalanching into my every atom as I breathed and building me up as the unbeautiful version of the fever I used to be. There was a ghost town in my head and millions of explosions at the verge of my skin. I caught glimpses of them when the nights grew cold and I couldn’t sleep, so l began to tell myself real stories about the girl who once lived inside my body. This new heart could not be mine. It beat too slowly, like memory flutters of what was once young and alive and was now somewhere else, where there’s warmth and hope that one day it might become the brightest light in the darkest night, like an old lover thought it could. They called it wanderlust, and told to me get away for a while. I called it winter. The winter of my heart, when the power of my body went off and the rain came down for days; and this time, days diffused into months.
I leaned back and waited for the winter to push silently into spring once again, watching others from behind tea cups and listening to their stories. I couldn’t help noticing how once their story line drifted towards the loved and lost, their shaky fingers struggling to squeeze the loneliness out of their skin to make themselves desirable again, made the saddest image in the world. Soon, I couldn’t stand the sights of the friendly eyes of dogs, human touch and contagious smiles. But after seeing enough, the world started to make sense again. I pressed fast forward and skimmed through the absurd to find deep connections and patterns at every step. And it was this how I found you again, through words scattered on cafeteria napkins stained with coffee rings when I wasn’t even looking.
Speed, the most magical of things when things aren’t on your side. There is so much beauty in that unstoppable force that makes all the colours blur together, in the mix that brings everything together more hurriedly, that puts everything in motion. In between cherry trees and icy winds you find uncommon sense, bumpy roads and a carousel of lights and sounds and car flashes and laughy voices that spins so fast and uncontrollably that all you’re left to see is beauty. A rush that mixes the good with the bad, the old with the new, the feel of every moment you can’t wait to forget and every moment you clench your teeth into and want to keep for eternity. Speed has a melodic hum of its own that makes you walk to the beat and take sharp turns, that doesn’t give you time to sleep and weep. You flames grow high, like the branches of a tree that bursts into fruits and flowers in the heat of the moment. The summer of your life becomes nothing compared to the most heavenly hell that living at full speed allows you to be in. And when you have fire in your prose and poetry, and lips, and fingertips, what are you if not the brightest star in the darkest night, what are you if not a star in the Universe, what are you if not one of those who shine so bright that blind other for a second, then teach their eyes to take the light in? What are you if not the beauty that will save the world?