It's funny how we always end up right at the same point. I was talking about this only two days ago, with him. How it was so strange that this time it was different. But it's always the same. It might be different for a little while, but it always comes back the same.

Funny, by the way, that this only lasted a little over two weeks (or even just a week and a half), while the other one, the 'bad' one, lasted almost two months. He was a better fit for me, I suppose.

I will never be the quiet one, and I almost forgot how proud I am of that.

I've got so much love to give

I write best at night, after many an hour of insomniac thoughts. With the cold slowly creeping up, with the light starting to appear, with the knowledge that everything, everyone is asleep, and I, I am alone with the words that daylight does not find. This is the hour that magic is made of.

With the snow came the magic. It covered our days in a dreamy daze, it made us feel alive again. The magic is enthralling, it's beating in my soul. This is the life. There are goosebumps on my arms. It seems like every past hour, every single day, has had that touch of magic, of wonder, of amazement. We find ourselves in arms unknown, embraces unexpected. Time flies by so fast.

'Let's fill the air with love, 'cause admit it now, it's Christmas all around...'

I can't believe it's Christmas. It just hasn't sunk in yet. Other years, I'd be counting down to Christmas from weeks on ahead, but now time seems to have flown faster than I could follow. Has so much happened? Maybe. There is definately magic in the air, or at least, it feels like it. Is this the start of the future? It's frightens me, to leave all this behind, but then again, what is worth it, will remain.
Am I getting older, is that it? Is that the reason this all feels so meaningful, so real, so ... so like the beginning of the rest of my life? Sometimes life catches you in moments unexpected. It hits you, full speed, while you were too busy living to pay attention to life. It would be ironic, that's for sure. Bring him home? It'll be the laugh of the town. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe we need some laughter around. Some surrealism. Because I only just realised: this would be the most surreal thing that ever happened. I swore this would never do, and here I find myself, possibly, on the verge of happiness.
I feel so old, so grown-up. Do you feel the same, lily? Like life is passing by and all is just a whim of melancholy. There is so much I still want to enjoy. I love my life, when life is energy. But I long, I reach, I yearn, I look forward, to being calm. With you.
Life lies in the unexpected. You are unexpected. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe, that's the best thing about it.

Hanne spreekt in het ijle
Niemand die luistert
Toch tatert ze door
Hopend op antwoord
Een teken van leven
Een tikkende vinger
Aan de andere kant


Hanne, die fluistert
Typende vingers
Letters die dansen
Over het stralende scherm
Een schreeuw in de leegheid
Een roep in de kilte
Maar niemand die luistert
Aan de andere kant


(Oh, wat een drama
Wat een gezever
Wat een raar wijf
Is die Hanne toch)

ik maak het mezelf toch ook altijd moeilijk, hé

ik hou wel van het licht dat sneeuw verspreidt

vreemd. ik moet toch even wennen, denk ik.

Wie tegen de lamp loopt, vindt verlichting.

(Matthias Vanmaercke)