Once upon a time, a young woman was discovering herself and embracing her freedom to the fullest. And then it happened, You, and the message. The message which questioned her coffee taste. Every Viennese is a coffee expert, or at least he assumes so. I let myself in, and the game of mastering the skill of communication got started.
Funny how an easy start can make a relationship, which two people tend to build up, complicated and complex. Words are spoken, but are they understood? Playing with feelings is a harsh label I tend to skip in order to describe a huge desire to be likeable. Can I, a person with the potential to fall in love with, be a Homo Faber (the concept that human beings are able to control their fate and their environment as a result of the use of tools)? Is it possible to take control and responsibilities for the universe? The Universal concept of - "If I die, let me die in the morning." - is something I reached with You.
If You agree, I would like to explain to our audience this concept of a therapy weekend, or this fabulous weekend of a transformation of two beautiful minds. Let's play a game. So, it goes like this:
Put a finger down:
if you answered a text from a stranger on a dating up,
if you did it only because he/she has kind eyes,
if you discussed your coffee tastes,
if you got off randomly at a train station to meet that person,
if he/she said yes to this crazy idea,
if you celebrated a mail-stone together,
if you enjoyed a hot Viennese summer night,
if you felt like only two people on its streets (and a bike between you),
if you listened to his/her vinyl records at his/her fesch apartment,
if you exchanged passions, food, books and stayed friends.
How many fingers are still standing up? Hm, in my case, a fool such as I am, none. But this time I am growing. I feel my heart and soul-stretching. No, this isn't something bad per se.
You show me where I stand. You taught me to freely embrace my personality and gave me fertile ground for my self-development. You reminded me to take more chances. The feeling of regret is the one which kills an artistic soul. Try V, play, explore and fly. This time I feel it, you are close. One more step separates me from my next life-station.
Sitting on Your window, morning, music, Vienna... The rain starts... With the last smoke, you breathe out the loneliness at least for today... Don't overthink, let us be here and now, the time will show. Maybe next time I will be the one to get off the train and wait for you to smile back. It was nice meeting you, my friend.
P.S. Put a finger down if you fell in love and got hurt, but still keep on trying...
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