My world!

Welcome to my world!

my world is upside down

funny

 nostalgic

 and dizzy

Lemn-metafora de Fazi

Alexandra: si cand am vazut ca nu mai zice nimic
Alexandra: am zis ca imi bag pula
Andreea Fazakas: pai iti tot bagi pula da stii tu la un moment dat trebe sa o mai shi scoti

asta m-a binedispus intr-o situatie critica
:))

Dear John, by Nicholas Sparks

Prologue

Lenoir, 2006

    What does it mean to truly love another? There was a time in my life when I thought I knew the answer: It meant that I'd care for Savannah more deeply that I cared for myself and that we'd spent the rest of our lives together. [...] I could imagine lying beside her in bed at the end of the day, holding her while we talked and laughed, lost in each other's arms.

    It doesn't sound so far-fetched, right? When two people love each other? That's what I thought too. And while part of me still wants to believe it's possible, I know it's not going to happen. When I leave here again, I'll never come back. [...]

    But of this I'm certain: Savannah will never know I've been here today.

    Part of me aches at the thought of her being so close yet so untouchable, but her story and mine are different now. [...] There are memories for both of us, of course, but I've learned that memories can have a physical, almost living presence, and in this, Savannah and I are different as well. If hers are stars in the nightmare sky, mine are haunted empty spaces in between.[...]

    To me, she will always be twenty-one and I will always be twenty-three. I'd been stationed in Germany; I had yet to go to Fallujah or Bagdad or receive her letter, which I read in the railroad station in Samawah in the initial weeks of the campaign; I had yet to return home from the events that changed the course of my life.[...]

    But I did meet her; that's the thing that makes my current life so strange. I fell in love with her when we were together, that fell deeper in love with her in the years we were apart. Our story has three parts: a begining, a middle, and an end. And though this is the way all stories unfold, I still can't believe ours didn't go on forever.

    I reflect on these things, and as always, our time together comes back to me. I find myself remembering how it began, for now these memories are all I have left.

  

Part one

Wilmington, 2000

Dear John,

    There's so much I want to say to you, but I'm not sure where I should begin. Should I start by telling you that I love you? Or that the days I've spent with you have been the happiest in my life? Or that in the short time I've known you, I've come to believe that we were meant to be together? I could say all those things and would be true, but as I reread them, all I can think is that I wish I were with you now, holding your hand and watching for your elusive smile.

    In the future, I know I'll relive our time together a thousand times. I'll hear your laughter and see your face and feel your arms around me. I'm going to miss all of that, more than you can imagine. You're a rare gentleman, John, and I treasure that about you. In all the time we were together, you never pressed me to sleep with you, and I can't tell you how much that meant to me. It made what we had seem even more special, and how I always want to remember my time with you. Like a pure white light, breathtaking to behold.

    I'll think about you every day. Part of me is scared that there will come a time when you don't feel the same way, that you'll somehow forget about what we shared, so this is what I want you to do. Wherever you are and no matter what's going on in your life, when it's the first night of the full moon - like it was the first time we met - I want you to find it in the nighttime sky. I want you to think about me and the week we shared, because wherever I am and no matter what's going on in my life, that's exactly what I'll be doing. If we can't be together, at least we can share that, and maybe between the two of us, we can make this last forever.

    I love you, John Tyree, and I'm going to hold you to the promise you once made to me. If you come back, I'll marry you. If you break your promise, you'll break my heart.

Love,

Savannah

Part two

Iraq, 2002

Dear John,

    I'm writing this letter at the kitchen table, and I'm struggling because I don't know how to say what I'm about to tell you. Part of me wishes that you were here with me so I could do this in person, but we both know that's impossible. So here I am, groping for words with tears on my cheeks and hoping that you'll somehow forgive me for what I'm about to write.

    I know this is a terrible time for you. I try not to think about the war, but I can't escape the images, and I'm scared all the time. I watch the news and scour newspapers, knowing you're in the middle of all of it, trying to find out where you are and what you're going through. I pray every night that you'll make it home safely, and I always will. You and I shared something wonderful, and I never want you to believe that you didn't mean as much to me as I did to you. You're rare and beautiful, John. I fell in love with you, bot more than that, meeting you made me realize what true love means. For the past two years, I've been staring at every full moon and remembering everything we've been through together. I remember how talking to you the first night felt like coming home, and I remember the night we made love. I'll always be glad that you and I shared ourselves like that. To me, it means that our souls will be linked together forever.

    There's so much more, too. When I close my eyes, I see your face; when I walk, it's almost as if I can feel your hand in mine. Those things are still real to me, but where they once brought comfort, now they leave me with an ache. I understood your reason for staying in the army, and I respected your decision. I still do, but we both know our relationship changed after that. We changed, and in your heart, I think you realized it, too. Maybe the time apart was too much, maybe it was just our different worlds. I don't know. Every time we fought I hated myself for it. Somehow, even though we still loved each other, we lost that magical bond that kept us together.

    I know that sounds like an excuse, but please believe me when I say that I didn't mean to fall in love with someone else. If I don't really understand how it happened, how can you? I don't expect you to, but because of all we've been through, I just can't continue lying to you. Lying would diminish everything we've shared, and I don't want to do that. even though I know you will feel betrayed.

    I'll understand if you never want to talk to me again, just as I'll understand if you tell me that you hate me. Part of me hates me, too. Writing this letter forces me to acknowledge that, and when I look in the mirror, I know I'm looking at someone who isn't sure she deserves to be loved at all. I mean that.

    Even though you may not want to hear it, I want you to know that you'll always be a part of me. In our time together, you claimed a special place in my heart, one I'll carry with me forever and that no one can ever replace. You're a hero and a gentleman, you're kind and honest, but more than that, you're the first man I ever truly loved. And no matter what the future brings, you always will be, and I know that my life is better for it.

I'm so sorry---

Savannah

Epilogue

Lenoir, 2006

    What does true love really mean?

    I think about the question again as I sit on the hillside and watch Savannah moving among the horses. For a moment, I flash to the night I showed up at the ranch to find her ... but that visit, a year ago now, feels more and more like a dream to me.[...]

    I sold the collection because I finally understood what true love really meant. Tim had told me—and shown me—that love meant that you care for another person's happiness more than your own, no matter how painful the choices you face might be.[...] I know that my feeling about Savannah will never change, and I know I will always wonder about the choice I made.

    And sometimes, despite myself, I wonder if Savannah feels the same way. Which of course explains the other reason I came to Lenoir.

    I stare at the ranch as evening settles in. It's the first night of the full moon, and for me, the memories will come. They always do. I hold my breath as the moon begins its slow rise over the mountain, its milky glow edging just over the horizon. The trees turn liquid silver, and though I want to return to those bittersweet memories, I turn away and look at the ranch again.

    For a long time, I wait in vain. [...]

    And when I see her finally emerge from the house, I feel a strange tingling in my spine, one I've never experienced before. She pauses on the steps, and I watch as she turns and seems to stare in my direction. I freeze for no reason—I know she can't possibly see me. From my perch, I watch as Savannah closes the door quietly behind her. She slowly descends the steps and wanders to the center of the yard.

    She pauses then and crosses her arms, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one has followed her. Finally, she seems to relax. And then I feel as if I'm witnessing a miracle, as ever so slowly she raises her face toward the moon. I watch her drink in the sight, sensing the flood of memories she's unleashed and wanting nothing more than to let her know I'm here. But instead I stay where I am and stare up at the moon as well. And for the briefest instant, it almost feels like we're together again.

 

Thorpe Park, U.K.

 

spune tot.

.ca doar timpul e prietenul meu bun

intr-o zi o sa vorbesc cu Timpul
si o sa-l intreb:
"Timpule, de ce esti asa grabit?"
si el o sa-mi raspunda:
"Ti se pare!"
"Si de ce nu esti niciodata de partea mea?"
"Cum sa nu fiu? Doar eu sunt prietenul tau. De ce as fi impotriva ta?"
"Asta nu stiu sa spun...dar totusi...

ca doar timpul e prietenul meu bun!



p.s.: remember me as the almost lover almost best frient you almost had.