AN: to Ameriah, it's not a stupid question. Sorry if I didn't write
anything else. Paulo Coelho is a Brazilian writer. He wrote many books but
the most famous is the Alchemist. Thanks for your review.
Chapter4
I'm speechless. The poem he wrote me was absolutely surprising. I knew that behind the façade he was hiding an amazing personality but I never fully understood until today.
I knew I shouldn't have opened the 'Pandora vase' but I'm a really instinctive person. My mother is absolutely the same. She feels and she acts consequently. That's why at the end of her relationship she is always left heartbroken. She gives 'him' everything of herself and when she discovers that it's not enough she leaves. Max did really get closed to marry her. But sincerely I know that she still deeply love my father.
Luke is another story. My mother sees him for what he really is. He is her rock, her everything. He is safe because even though he loves her, he keeps it inside. My mother is not blind and is not in denial about her feeling for Luke. She knows that what she feels is special and that a very tiny line separates friendship and love.
Luke is like a father to me but we never really talk about things. We don't need to talk they are all there in our eyes and the same is regarding he and my mother. Why do we have to say we love someone when we show him everyday what we feel?
Jess today was not in a good mood. He was sitting on our bridge but he was not reading. Usually that's not a good sign. I sat near him and asked what was wrong. He looked at me, he tried to read into my eyes what I was hiding. But he found nothing wrong. He relaxed, smiled and kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, full of Jess.
Dear Tristan,
Paris is making me mad. She passes from cold to friendly and back in a second. I never understand when the storm is coming and I don't really know what I did to cause it either.
I guess it would be easy to write each other email rather than wait for the postal service to deliver our letters. But I've never been like the other people. Like you wrote, there are many of me and I don't really know who I am. I've always felt different from everybody else. I'm not happy with the simple life of study-get a job- have a family concept. I'm looking, I need something more, something different.
What You Are To Me
Have you ever felt like you knew someone a long, long time ago?
Another place, another time, a friendship of the souls?
Two people who share a bond for reasons neither know,
A feeling that they were friends, a long, long time ago?
Did they stumble onto each other by pure circumstance,
Or was it fate and destiny that played a certain hand?
Two souls intertwined, they are worlds apart,
But the soul, it knows no difference, in matters of the heart.
Somehow they are drawn together, fate has brought them back,
Each living worlds apart, they journey separate paths.
When this life is over, and a new life begins,
Their souls will find each other.*
Mary
AN: *this is a part of a poem written by Lia Fail, I don't really know who she is but I thought that the poem fitted well what Rory was feeling.
Chapter4
I'm speechless. The poem he wrote me was absolutely surprising. I knew that behind the façade he was hiding an amazing personality but I never fully understood until today.
I knew I shouldn't have opened the 'Pandora vase' but I'm a really instinctive person. My mother is absolutely the same. She feels and she acts consequently. That's why at the end of her relationship she is always left heartbroken. She gives 'him' everything of herself and when she discovers that it's not enough she leaves. Max did really get closed to marry her. But sincerely I know that she still deeply love my father.
Luke is another story. My mother sees him for what he really is. He is her rock, her everything. He is safe because even though he loves her, he keeps it inside. My mother is not blind and is not in denial about her feeling for Luke. She knows that what she feels is special and that a very tiny line separates friendship and love.
Luke is like a father to me but we never really talk about things. We don't need to talk they are all there in our eyes and the same is regarding he and my mother. Why do we have to say we love someone when we show him everyday what we feel?
Jess today was not in a good mood. He was sitting on our bridge but he was not reading. Usually that's not a good sign. I sat near him and asked what was wrong. He looked at me, he tried to read into my eyes what I was hiding. But he found nothing wrong. He relaxed, smiled and kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, full of Jess.
Dear Tristan,
Paris is making me mad. She passes from cold to friendly and back in a second. I never understand when the storm is coming and I don't really know what I did to cause it either.
I guess it would be easy to write each other email rather than wait for the postal service to deliver our letters. But I've never been like the other people. Like you wrote, there are many of me and I don't really know who I am. I've always felt different from everybody else. I'm not happy with the simple life of study-get a job- have a family concept. I'm looking, I need something more, something different.
What You Are To Me
Have you ever felt like you knew someone a long, long time ago?
Another place, another time, a friendship of the souls?
Two people who share a bond for reasons neither know,
A feeling that they were friends, a long, long time ago?
Did they stumble onto each other by pure circumstance,
Or was it fate and destiny that played a certain hand?
Two souls intertwined, they are worlds apart,
But the soul, it knows no difference, in matters of the heart.
Somehow they are drawn together, fate has brought them back,
Each living worlds apart, they journey separate paths.
When this life is over, and a new life begins,
Their souls will find each other.*
Mary
AN: *this is a part of a poem written by Lia Fail, I don't really know who she is but I thought that the poem fitted well what Rory was feeling.