Overlooking the beautiful garden.
8th Floor, looking up into the vantablack sky.
Flashing me through time and hunting me with flashbacks.
Berlin, sitting on a couch. Looking at a two-by-three-meter painting and thinking about last summer. Remembering the shoot for Vogue, creating 9 collections and creating eleven paintings. One of them remembers me of her.
Hamburg, the phone rings, a Store, asking if I want one of my pieces to be published. Back to painting. Weeks later, on their Gram. Looking through 8k of Story viewers. Glancing at blue eyes with a touch of grey, a grey that runs through her hair up to her whole IG.
First date. I would have arrived on time if this random Hispanic woman hadn’t asked me if I was Maria’s husband. I don’t know who Maria is. Going down the staircases, I glance to the left and see nothing. To the right and there she is. With the sun shining on her face. I hugged her, feeling ache from the kick-box training, but still feeling warm and complete. Trapped in her eyes focused on every feature of her. Lunch with her, talking. Being interrupted by a call, ohh I am late.
Second date. Sunset. Seeing the sky tint a rose veil over the city. Strolling to the train station. A crowd formed a big heart around an old Afro-American jazz musician. Took her hand, went through the crowd, and stood at the top of the staircases. Having her in my arms, feeling her breath, her heartbeat, hearing him sing about love, looking at her and being in love.
Third date. Going past a flower shop. She is standing between roses. I hug her, take her to the river, and we lay on the lawn. I love her perfume, smile, and the way she walks and talks. The art gallery. I hold her in my arms, in front of a painting. Kissing her on her porch, never felt so calm.
One step back, looking at her, two steps towards her, grabbing her waist, feeling her arms around my neck, looking down inside her unique eyes. Pain, she’s the one. I would have chosen your ocean eyes instead of turning mine into an ocean.
A text from her. She wants to meet. Another gallery. She told me how happy she was to see me and asked me why I was leaving. She wanted me to meet her friends. Today, unfortunately, I won’t be able to. I have a shoot after this Rendez-Vous and I won’t be here soon. I'll leave for the shooting and weeks then I'll leave for the art school.
Who can I look up to if the ones I once looked up to are also torn apart?
A life constantly falling into two pieces pulling me constantly apart.
Feeling and getting to know, that I will lose everything this year.
Realising that some dreams are just meant to be broken.
Christmas Eve, sitting alone in my apartment.
On some of them lonely nights, I get a visit.
Went to the balcony, took one and lit it.
Last puff, breathing and looking up.
Hallucinating, looking at a star.
Flying and calling me.
Flying towards me.
I went to it.
Collision.