MEMORY AND MAGIC
Down there in the port of Rhodes were waiting barges...
The dawn has only just broken, but the smaller tadpole-sized fish, smaller crabs, and armored turtles are already coming forward. The calm depth has never been so clear and transparent. I listened to the murmuring heartbeats of the water surface for you. And while only a few fishermen were fishing, my sad heart sent its wishes to you.
My albino skin could only rarely escape from the murderous bombardment of UVB rays: like a boiled lobster, blisters the size of third-degree fists proliferated all over my body, and while I was tormented by the harpoon pains of sunstrokes, especially on restless balmy nights, I hoped that if I looked up at the silver-colored stars somewhere far away, you would also think sometimes on me...
I was rocked by a natural hum that wanted to be stimulated, superstitious, and diligent, and my instincts, which were constantly at war with moods.
In the evening, when the one-eyed Cyclops had dozed off to rest, I snuck out of my hotel room like a silent thief and went to the shore all the way to the water-besieged rocks, and while I was pondering the further uncertain, unknown fate of Being, some dolphins swam very close to the coastal bay. It was as if they had guessed that the storm clouds of sorrow and worry oppress just like most living beings. I wish I could understand the secret speech of the animals, they would have welcomed new friendships and lifted me up day after day.
Do you remember? You once showed me a photograph of a water park, in which you too swam as a mermaid among the laughing dolphins with their creaking door sounds, frolicking in the frothy foam, and with your beaming smile of Heaven, you lit up my whole pathetic, shipwrecked life, and even though your good father categorically declared that you meant for a rich, wealthy person, you turned your back on the stunted, conservative family conventions!
Later, the day of your wedding came and I panicked at the realization that you were no longer mine and that our life together was just a pretend lie. I secretly traveled down to your place and watched you diligently gardening among your favorite hydrangeas and pink-petalled hyacinths, and I thought that the tiny petals represented our beating hearts, and of course you could hear the romantic Morse codes of my voices!
Hair! Twenty-one years ago, I will never forget this! And when I last saw you, you were already a mother, looking like a homebody, wearing summer clothes; you clasped your calloused hands in front of you while you hugged your two bad-boned sons, while you held your flaxen-haired little Princess in your arms. I was happy-sad and spleen-emptied at the same time, because your eternal absence seemed to ossify in me!
In answer to your question: Unfortunately, I am still myself in this calculating, two-faced, lying World! Does the other half of my restless soul know where it is? And when will he be able to step behind the scenes of my troubled life?! Maybe I don't even believe that it is possible and there will be a Someone who, in the way of a true caring and protective woman, extends her angelic hand to me and guides me through the rest of my twenty years.
Maybe I can't believe in myself anymore; I am constantly doubting between my sane logical connections and the romantic instincts of my heart, and even though I know that Fate has become a thin dividing line in order to tolerate and allow all of this, the hours of Being are grinding faster than some old mill wheels that have started to rust!