LISTEN TO THE OCEAN

ELISHA

The human being is divided into two parts: one he knows and the other he has to meet. And when the latter arrives, it is easier than you think to understand that in those eyes, in those lips, in that smile, there is the other half. You feel it on your skin, in your veins. You feel your heart beating, you feel a strange interest in that person you just met, but so attracting attention that you don’t understand why. And when you begin to create a real relationship, made no longer of looks, but of constant dialogue, you understand that you cannot separate from your person. Because once they are reunited it is as if each fabric is glued back together, found again. Every muscle, every organ, inextricably linked.
Once in a lifetime, something happens. The meeting of two souls who, despite having been apart for a long time, have never really been separated. In fact, only once in my life, I found Love, and it happened at the exact moment I met your eyes. I understood that distances are not real, because all that is most real is our being, very distant from what we see only with the eyes, or that we perceive only with the senses and interpret with our mind. There is something beyond any kind of rationality, and love is the only way to understand it. Once in my life, I met you. But for how many lifetimes we will still meet, always in the same place, that place without time or space. Where our eyes will still recognize each other and the doors to infinity will open.
You never let go of your hands, you hold tight, with eyes cast down to others, and it’s an ocean, girl, that silence of yours, and it’s beautiful blue waves, messages of love in a bottle of precious crystal. They are in the courtyard. You are a boat in the middle of the sea. And they laugh, rumor new loves, and they are enough, and they talk to each other, lowering their voices, getting closer, when they look at you, in that corner only yours, while you smile at the ants, without ever being able to see you. Your pain is the ocean, fragile girl, and they would drown, believe me, in your great sea, in your glaring depths, in the wonderful invisible world that you are. Let them believe, therefore, that you are left out, that you are the excluded, that they are together, that you are alone, desperately alone. Let them believe, twin flame! I feel like hugging you, even if I don’t know you, even if I’ve never seen you; hug you and tell you that everything is fine, that we are the ones together, even if together, due to time and space, we have never been there. Yet, that corner was mine, once upon a time, and no one, besides us, has ever noticed all that sea, all that deep, this boundless ocean of ours!

STORY OF UNDERWATER

At the bottom of the sea the sun never sets. The sun, which seems to go out in the waves, has no place in the ocean depths. LAYA swam fearlessly among the corals and sponges of the seabed, of a dense, blackish blue; a viscous darkness for human eyes, but not for her, who possessed it, controlled it. It wasn't like that on dry land where darkness possessed her, controlled her. It infiltrated her body more and more every day: a tarry poison that penetrated her eyes, nose, mouth and filled her head, polluting her ideas; then he went down to force her breath, to numb her limbs. Although LAYA felt that something was wrong, that it wasn't right, that she had to rebel, she never did. The darkness comforted her, cradled her, clutching her organs, her muscles, her bones that she could no longer move. And she didn't want to move. When the darkness was thicker, his heart, so impregnated, slowed down so much, stuck, that LAYA watched him concentrated, wondering how faintly he could beat before stopping.

In his world it was not like that. In his world, even darkness was his subject.

He swam to the surface; hidden among the rocks she looked at the city where she had no place she could call her own, where all affection was a stranger. He watched the sunset color the horizon pink and lilac. He watched the sea sparkle with gold and wondered what could be so precious there, in the dry, for which it was worth facing so many humiliations, so many failures, so many losses. He watched his tail flicker under the surface of the water which gradually became an increasingly intense crimson: the princess, the symbol of a proud people, the leader of a valiant army, swam in those red, violent waters. There she was not placid, meek or compliant, there she was not herself, there she was free from herself.

She plunged back into the inflamed waters, swimming energetically towards the bottom, where she was alive and light and strong, where she didn't need or want to hide. He spotted a scorpionfish camouflaged among the rocks: he pounced on it and scrubbed it unceremoniously with his sharp teeth. The flesh tearing deliciously, the brittle bone shattering under her jaws gave her a thrill of satisfaction. She felt no pity for that fish, as she was sure no one felt for her.

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