The story is about a weird love.

When I call it 'love', it means it has been overcontemplated. When by any reason a moment of the affair glimpses, I can see new sides of the experience, as it is the case now!

 

As a senior managing engineer I hoped to finish my night flight by a soft landing, after a series of tiring meetings. A company car came to pick me up but I had to wait for a while since there was a second passenger expected. It's not nice to wait at the airport surrounded with concrete, steel and glass, atmospheric announces, and people wrestling with vehicles. Cursing becomes smoking.

 

After some time I saw the passenger standing at a distance or did she come right to the taxi? She was a dark silhouette from hair to shoes. I wellcomed her, God knows why, with an enthusiasm. In a fraction of a second I decided to sit besides her while it would be a more expected behaviour if I placed myself near the driver.

 

It was a 75 minutes voyage.

 

How did we start talking? Did she or more kindly I started the conversation? Probably it started with the only known commonality: the destination, which was a refinery. After a couple of minutes of information exchange the road, the lights, the driver, the sound of wheels all dissappeared. I was in a temple where a goddess was listening to me actively as if she knew exactly what I was talking about, and forgiving me for my sins, valuing the human behind the words, was impressed deeply with her silent and involved existence. I always knew that she was looking at me, and I lived the pleasure of looking into her beautiful eyes from time to time. As the conversation proceeded, and much before the destination, I knew I loved her. The goddess while not talking too  much (which made her words precious, and her voice herself), was a master of listening and I could observe the changes in her being; which maturated in another love embracing me with a most reliable womb.

 

As we arrived the destination everything switched back to practicality. The doors of the taxi were opened. The schock was enormous. I did not know what to do, and hurried in helping carry her baggage. Before parting she was so self confident, so serious, so calm, so warm, so deep, so schocked by her love in saying ''I want to see you.'' (-I WANT TO SEE YOU-...I should have said more powerfully. I was affirmatively silent instead, taking her business card. Perhaps. ) She merely had the next day, a tomorrow, and I spent a whole day and night fighting with myself: ('Call her!' 'No. She is at a meeting now.' 'Go there! You are the reliability champion. You have the right to be in the meeting.' 'But..the meeting will be spoiled because I cannot participate when I aam not interested. I just want her.' 'Go to the dinner eventhough you have not been invited! She will at least see you and perhaps come to you.' 'This will create rumours, and most probably they will invite me to the table. This is even worse.' ...The day and night flew away...

 

Now, after four years, I understand that, that was the best that we could hope. This experience is still perfect, is still beautiful. I still miss her. This is a memory worth reimagining over and over.

 

It would never be so worthy if we mixed our mutual eternal dance with any civilized experience.

 

...and I feel she also knows this, and the precious wound is bleeding as a sign of liveliness.

So, this picture is nothing but an expression of the feelings during the conversation despite the apparent physical closeness. I hope I can be excused for this.