Every one has ghosts of
their own.
I got mine too.
Every one thinks that a
ghost is something that is dead.
Not me. For me a ghost is
something that will remain alive eternally.
There are two kinds of
ghosts, the good ghosts and the bad ghosts.
The good ghosts are the
happy memories.
Like your friends, or
your first kiss...
And then there are the
bad ghosts that are the bad memories.
Like the first time you
got your heart broken...
Or the first time you had
to say good-bye.
The same thing happens
with angels.
Every one has an angel of
their own.
Someone who will protect
you and keep you from harm.
Someone who'll make you
feel life's worth living.
But let me tell you about
my angel.
The winter days were
finally over and the heat of the sun took over the land. Step by step
spring was coming.
But still the cold and
the emptiness were taking over me.
I was sitting at a café
table and surrounded by friends and still I felt alone.
They are not to blame.
I just felt there was
something missing in my life.
Maybe I'm just afraid of
letting them know who I really am.
I feel better just
letting them see what my mask reveals them.
It doesn't mean I never
tried to let someone really know me.
But every time I try I
end up getting hurt.
But I was caught in the
tender trap.
I should have known
better.
Love is divine, but just
for others.
For me it's just a never
ending see of tears.
I don't really know why
but every thing I do is always wrong.
And I was never truly
loved.
At least not the way I
want to be loved.
No fears, no frontiers,
no doubts, no tears.
Isn't that how love
should be?.
I always believed so. But
I guess I was wrong, again.
And nobody can explain
this to me.
And nobody can understand
this.
And there's no shelter,
there's no blue sky after the rain.
This rain that has been
with me since the first day of my life.
But anyway, why must I
insist and believe there's a way out, that someday everything will be
different and true love will finally find me?
She was the must
beautiful thing I had ever seen.
A beautiful Pisces girl
with golden curly hair.
And eyes that could
hypnotize you.
God, they did.
She broke up with her
boyfriend and just needed a friend.
I needed a real friend
too.
Someone I could talk too.
Someone I could trust.
And she came along.
In the beginning there
was nothing.
Just a physical
attraction.
I never thought I'd fall
in love.
I knew her boyfriend.
I guess you can say that
we were... friends.
She started saying how
much she hated him.
And how there was no
going back.
Somehow I never believed
her.
One night we went out
with our friends to the top of the mountain just outside town.
We could see the whole
city and millions of tiny lights.
And above us, the stars.
« I feel so small. All
the stars above me and I never truly noticed them. »
I'm not an expert on
astronomy but I told her the name of a couple of stars and I showed
her where the Dog Star was.
She was thrilled .
Somehow that meant a lot
to her.
She was happy.
So was I.
She felt cold so I gave
her my jacket.
For the first time she
held me.
And for the first time I
felt real close to her.
On our way home she fell
asleep on my shoulder.
When we got to her house
she said it was too early for her to go home.
It wasn't even midnight.
We got out of the car and
our friends went home.
And there we were, just
the two of us.
So we started talking.
About art.
She told me she was into
painting.
She was so bright, so
full of life and hope.
She somehow reminds me of
myself.
Before we noticed it, it
was already two o'clock in the morning.
She said her mother was
going to kill her.
So we said good-night.
Suddenly I remembered
something that I probably saw in a movie and I said « What about a
final dance, before we go. »
She smiled.
And we did. We danced.
There was no music, just
our heart beat.
And believe me, that's
the best song.
Two hearts beating as
one.
That night I realized she
was the one.
My one and only.
I've been in love before.
But never so strong.
Never so true.
Every step I took... she
was there.
Every breath I took...
she was there.
It was amazing.
Suddenly, my life made
sense.
There was finally a
reason for me to wake up in the morning.
She wanted to read my
poetry.
She asked me why I wrote
what I wrote and whom I wrote it for.
And how did I feel when I
was writing.
But what she really
wanted to know was whom I wrote to.
Who I wrote for.
To my imaginary love,
said I.
She didn't believe me
though I was telling her the truth.
And somehow my imaginary
love wasn't fiction anymore.
She was standing right in
front of me.
She called me the next
morning and asked if I could come over and see her paintings.
I did.
The Night, her favorite
subject.
The Night.
I was told once that I
was the son of the sun.
She was the daughter of
the moon.
So different, yet so
alike.
It's my light that makes
her shine.
It's her breath that
gives me life.
Yet, we will never be
together.
Even though we are one.
We went to the café .
We found ourselves
talking about ex-boyfriends and girlfriends
And relationships in
general and how love sucks.
I wanted to tell her I
was feeling something especial for her.
But she kept talking
about her boyfriend.
I knew that someday it
would be over.
Someday we would say
good-bye.
Someday she would be back
to her boyfriend and I'd be back to myself.
But somehow it didn't
matter.
I just wanted to be close
to her. I wanted to spend every second of my life with her until that
fatal day would come.
But then her boyfriend
came into the café and said he wanted to talk to her.
They stepped aside.
She came back and said
she had to go. She said she'd call me.
I felt so bad.
I wanted to die.
Emptiness took over me.
The dream was coming to
an end.
It was only a matter of
time before it became a nightmare.
That night we did not
dance.
She said:
« you've become my best
friend.
Only you truly understand
me. »
God, if she only knew
then.
If I had told her that
day, would things be different now?.
Would we be together
now?.
But I didn't tell her
that day.
I was too afraid to tell
her.
Sometimes, late at night,
I wake up and wonder what would have happened if I had told her that
day.
Would things be different
now?
That is a question that
will remain forever unanswered.
But those were the best
days of my life.
That will also remain
untouched.
And I'd give myself away
to have those days back.
If I only could, God
knows i would.
You don't choose who you
love.
You don't choose who you
need.
You don't choose
overnight who's The One.
She said life always
hurts.
She said Love is meant to
hurt.
She was... right.
A few days later a friend
of mine told me they were back together.
I went over to her house
to talk to her.
She said:
« I hope you're happy
for me.
I hope you'll be happy
too »
I brought her some stuff
I had written.
She always wanted to know
whom I wrote for, whom I wrote too.
For you, said I. To you.
She was a little bit
surprised.
Yes, I've fallen in love
with you, said I.
She was speechless but
she finally found the words.
« I'll never forgive
you. »
She said life always
hurts.
Love is meant to hurt.
She said one day I'd
learn to forget.
I haven't spoken to her
ever since.
Sometimes I want to call
her.
But I can't.
Everytime I hear the
phone ringing I wish it was her.
But it's never her.
It will never be her.
Somehow I've died.
She took everything with
her.
Now I'm left with
nothing.
Ghosts and Angels.
What a mess...
Tell me know,
Who wins this fight?
The Good ghosts or the
Bad ghosts?
And how can an Angel hurt
you so much?
I've become her bad
ghost.
She became my Angel.
My Good Ghost.
My Bad Ghost.
I still go back to that
place.
That place where we
shared magic.
Where we could share the
silence.
And I wait for her in
vain.
She won't come.
She will never come.
True love never dies for
some.
Sorrow never ends for me.
Love is a knife that only
cuts one way.
And it cut me keeping her
safe.
