Close and distant

Because you see, there are those who love each other

and must meet to avoid each other. The close

and the distant, as if standing in a mirror

, write each other letters, hot and cold,

parting like abandoned flowers in laughter

, not knowing exactly why this happened.

There are others who will find each other even in the dark

, but will pass by each other because they dare not meet.

As pure and calm as if snow had started,

they would be perfect, but they lacked flaws .

The close are afraid to be close so as not to be further away.

Some die—that is, they already know

love is not sought, it is there or it is not,

none of us is lonely but by chance.

There are those who love each other forever

, and only because of this they cannot be together,

like pheasants who never walk in pairs.

You can even get lost, but on the other side,

our paths, cut, meet again.

Jan Twardowski

______When I said I was leaving for the States, she burst into tears. And she did it in such a wonderfully selfish way that I no longer knew what to do or what to say. You know there are times when a single gesture, a single word, can really mess with your head. And that's exactly what happened this time. I sat on the couch, turned sideways to her, waiting for her to say something. But she didn't say anything. She just snuggled up to me and smelled of her grape shampoo. I inhaled it for a solid half hour, thinking nothing of it. If someone had been watching us from the sidelines, we probably would have looked like something out of an old painting. It made me laugh so hard when I tried to imagine it. Wide eyes staring into emptiness, and stupid expressions.

"And you were nagging me when I said I was going to study in Wrocław," she broke the silence. I didn't say anything because I didn't think there was any need. Because what could I possibly say? It would probably have ended with some stupid, "but..." and that was it. We stayed silent for another half hour. This time, I was the one to break the silence.

"I'll take you to my place. As soon as I manage to achieve something," I truly believed in those words. I believed I'd take her to that cursed, tacky country she loved so much, even though she'd only seen it in movies. Just as tacky as the entire culture there. McDonald's, cowboys, and apartment buildings you can't climb on foot unless you want to break a Guinness World Record. But she dreamed of it. So did I. Maybe we fell for some advertising gimmick, or a subliminal message, it doesn't matter.

"I promise I'll take you somewhere where you don't have to dream of heaven. You just climb the tallest skyscraper and touch it... You have it all to yourself."

______I looked into her eyes and kissed her forehead. Gently, brotherly. When I left her house, it was well after midnight. I couldn't go home. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I didn't want my parents to think anything had happened. Not far from my apartment building, right by the highway, someone had built allotments. Recreational ones. So that the elderly could plant carrots and the youngsters could drink during the summer. At that hour, no one was there anymore. I walked as far away from the complex as I could and screamed as loudly as I'd ever screamed in my life. So loud it blocked my ears. You probably don't realize how much it helps. If you can't tell something, even to your best friend, don't keep it to yourself, because it certainly won't do you any good. Tell it to the wind. It won't help, but I promise it will definitely listen.

_____I got home, and everyone was already asleep, so no one saw the tears on my cheeks. I couldn't sleep for a long time, and I don't remember exactly when it happened. I was wondering if loving someone was worth it. Is it worth giving up your entire life for love and planning it around it? Because once you say I love you, once you commit, everything is gone. Unless, to love, you can't be selfish. I'll do anything for you, as long as that "everything" is my initiative, not yours to ask. That probably wouldn't work. In true love. Because somewhere out there, with some stupid couple writing "blogs" and chatting, it probably did. But I was thinking about true love. If I left without considering anyone, would I forget about love, or would I try to fulfill their dreams in the name of love? I'd definitely hurt a lot of people. Definitely. And I think my eyelids glued shut at that point, because I don't remember the rest of my thoughts. And when I woke up, I lost the desire to think about serious matters (and I often do, as if I start to feel ashamed of my own thoughts as the darkness receded). The day flew by, as usual—studying, sleeping, and watching TV. And then my visit to her. And a conversation that actually made me realize everything. That it wasn't worth leaving, running away, that the greatest happiness was being together. I expressed myself poorly. It wasn't a conversation. It was two words:

"I love you."

_____I stayed. The holidays arrived and our first trip together. Kołobrzeg. Not the States, but we were together. And actually, that was enough for us. A lot had changed since that conversation. We didn't leave each other's side, I was there for her every smile and every tear. And then it happened. Some son of a bitch in a brand-new BMW was breaking the city speed record. She died instantly. Forgive me for not writing, but it still hurts.

______Three years later, I graduated from college and moved to the United States. I made it. For several years now, I've been working in the New York Times' gossip column. I have a big house, a Mercedes SLK, and I've fulfilled our shared dreams. But I'm still lonely. I can't love anyone. I compare all women to her. I brought her body back to the States and buried her in a cemetery on the outskirts of New York. I visit her grave every day. I still feel her presence next to me. Every day I read the epitaph on her tombstone and I know it speaks the truth. "You can leave forever to always be close." One day our paths will cross again. It will be the happiest day of my life. The last day of my life.