Light in the Depths of Emptiness

Will you search for me, even once? In all the most beautiful places on this earth, you'll never find a signal—I'll carry your memory with the sorrow of my tears; there's nothing in it but the regret of losing you, believe me.

I'll take the books you gave me with me—I desperately want to touch you, to keep touching you—don't you know that! Maybe you don't, or perhaps you knew a little. I want to tell you, you are still entirely mine. I want to say that the moment of looking into your eyes will remain forever in the cage of my feelings.

I could never say it—today I desperately want to see you. Let time run out, still I would want to hold you close to my heart...don't say no!

Do you know what the most painful feeling is? When despite loving with everything I have, I must confine myself within the limits of not being able to touch you! Is there no connection between love and the ability to touch and remain close? Yet I've bound myself with such false consolations in the end.

These days, when someone says "I love you" and comes close, it feels suffocating, everything feels false. These people who say "I love you," who call me near—why don't any of them feel like my own? Does love survive only when all needs are fulfilled?

I have some very personal words saved up for you. In private, you were my most beloved, the one I called "you" in the most intimate way.

No one runs their fingers through my hair like you did and says, come, let me hold you!

I could never tell you—my heart weeps with the desire to hold you just once. I convince myself that maybe I'm nothing to you, my place in your life is absolute zero, my tears exhausted from mingling with endless pain.

Still I want you to just be well, you know! I don't have the ability to ask for more than this.

So instead I hide myself every day. You know, there's goodwill in being able to say "be well" and walk away, but the hurt that remains buried beneath—perhaps no one will ever notice.