Pârvu Lavinia- Moral bankruptcy
She used to have her life together.
She knew what she wanted for herself.
Her past pain was just an accelerator for a better future pleasure. For this present future.
Some loved her for her honesty, some hated her for her truth.
She is neither a poet nor a writer.
She loved reading. It allowed her to cry over someone's sadness when she could no longer identify her own.
She was not afraid of dying anymore. Perhaps, she was only afraid that she wasn't alive enough.
She consider herself a simple woman who is thinking and feeling too much. Way too much.
She looked too carefully into that deep dangerous abyss, until the abyss started to look, at its turn, deep inside her. And at that point she was cured of everything.
And then HE happened. Out of nowhere. Out of everywhere.
He dug deep into her soul.
He cuted all the layers of her skin.
He then played with her bones and broke the normal arrangement.
He taught her how to lose on the highest peaks of pleasure and how to abandon her mind.
He brought to light her erotica side. Her animal side.
She was not human anymore in his arms.
He fullfilled all her erotic illusions.
Everything had meaning when she was walking next to him.
All the music around things and people had now sound.
He was like a compositor for her dry existence.
For a while the time stood in place.
But the same time was also cruel and misty because he had to leave.
He came like a stranger and in the end he left away with all her secrets. Even the dirty ones.
And she remained abandoned and naked.
Naked words. Naked expressions.
Empty head. Empty heart.
He left and left her the bad bones arrangement.
He forgot to close her skin.
She has no scar to cry after.
Now, she is waking up late, and with a huge sadness hangover.
She started to use her remained darkest side, because that side had the most power to teach her about her next purpose.
She knew that she could never become his whole life.
Her expectation is that at least, she will be his favorite part.
He said before leaving that they can still be friends.
But she is thinking that he meant that they can be the kind of strangers that share silent memories and a passing smiles, kisses, embraces every once in a while.
Now her life is not anymore together.
She is surviving with the help of disgusting alcohol fumes and dizzying cigarettes.
When she will be able to tell her story without crying, then she can say that she is cured.
Again and again.
That vicious circle.
Until something will happen.
Again and again.