The Fallen Angel

Preface

Maybe there is a time for everything, maybe sooner or later things come back.
Maybe even you.
Rushing is part of human beings...running, hurrying, moving on quickly.
It's a race after time that is actually lost at the start.
Wherever you go, however fast you can be, she will come.
So the metro stop is always full and even this morning I feel annoyed to see how every person thinks they can get on even when there is clearly no room,even when you are so close that you almost become a single mass of flesh.
I arrive at my stop and I envy those who remained inside, only because they will be able to enjoy a better journey than mine, for the amount of people who got off.

All this hassle doesn't really belong to me, it slips away pretty quickly.
I set off towards the university, ready to put up with another crowd of people darting through the corridors, as if in this way they could bring graduation day closer.
I talk like this but I'm actually a very anxious person and scared of the same things that scare everyone else.
I can only say that I am becoming aware of reality and trying to learn to manage myself, I don't feel like these others.
I don't even feel better, everyone survives as they can or as they think they can.
The variety of individuals that exist and how one of them harmless can become a public danger is fascinating: leaving oneself to instinct is what everyone dreams of.

I've only been taking psychology lessons recently,yet I feel like I already know these things, perhaps the intrinsic rush in all of us human beings plays a role here too.
The fact is that the hours pass and the time to get back on that same subway has returned.
All day I felt something calling me, as if someone was calling me.
I have always admired the damned angel, because he represents exactly the reality of the facts, he represents what we all really are or would like to be, but which we hide or reject.
So when he called, I wanted to turn around.
It's already dark outside and it's very cold at home, I like this and so I start studying with a sense of peace.

The phone rings and my loving boyfriend's face lights up on the screen; I reply and he calmly asks me how the day went and what I'm doing, but above all,when we'll see each other again.
You know I never wanted to hurt him, I see him as similar to me, or at least I was similar to him.
Yet we are all a bit like the fallen angel: attracted by the darkness.
I tell him that I'm free for dinner, even if that force that called me this morning continues to loom over me, weighing me down a little.
The sense of heaviness is what I reject most, in fact I admire butterflies, graceful and lighter than a feather.
But what I feel inside and what I carry with me is heavier than my thin body.
For dinner we choose a Chinese restaurant, we like to eat out and then walk along the deserted streets of the city center in winter.
Gabriel is the most angelic being I have ever met, and in him I saw all my goodness of heart, which I found in no one else.
But you knew this well, didn't you?

The following morning I get out of bed without the sound of the alarm, just like every morning for a few weeks.
The same old story: hot coffee and cold wind.
At least on the subway I don't feel the icy in my bones, but that remains the only positive aspect of that transporter of lost souls.
I don't know why right here at the university, but right here I feel that force calling me every morning.. but now I recognize it is a voice.. yes.. a deep voice.. deep like the black hole into which I would have sunk.
For lunch I meet Anne,if it weren't for her I would forget to stop to eat.
Anne listens to me a lot, I admire how she feels at ease even in silence. I can only do it if I'm alone.
But with you I learned to listen to silence too, remember?

When the evening arrives I'm still with Anne, but she confesses to me that she sees me as different, and that she knows I have something to tell her.
But how can I, Anne, how can I tell you how fragile I fell, or perhaps I let myself fall, into the arms of Darkness.
Yes because there is something to tell her and maybe I have to find the courage to admit it.
Enough! It's enough living with this voice that continually calls me.
But first, I will tell it to you, you who torment me with your icy eyes, in which I can still see your light, the one you have left, my damned angel. Yes, I will tell you first of all, the way I lived when you carried me with your black wings.

That rainy afternoon, the afternoon I would meet you, I thought about how pure and blissful you seemed, when paranoia and fear lodged inside me.
So how could I belong to the Elysian fields, how could I have met Gabriel right there.
Maybe there was a mistake, maybe it was me.
I kept asking myself those questions and repeating like a mantra that there was something wrong inside me, only later would I understand that what was wrong with me was precisely your presence.
That day I went to university in the afternoon because strangely I forgot my notebook, which I usually keep firmly in place, and so I had the unfortunate fortune of meeting you.
Long locks of jet black fell on your shoulders and maybe that was what first made me lay my eyes on you. But it was your icy eyes that froze and made my gaze stop towards yours.
I don't know what you saw in me at that moment but I know well what I saw: my good soul slipping into your hands.
I shuddered and tried not to think about it, running away from what I couldn't really sow.
It may be premature, but from that moment on I belonged to you.
I returned home accompanied by the moon, and perhaps also by the deep gaze of your eyes that watched over me-
Yes, I heard from you already that evening but I never told you, I didn't want to admit that I felt closer to you than I should have to.

The following day, outside that university, in the dull green courtyard, you spoke to me, and as soon as I heard the sound of your voice, I didn't want to admit to myself what I really felt, and I don't mean with my ears.
I refused, I refused and I refused you.
You couldn't, i couldn't, we couldn't.
But you didn't want to stop appearing in front of me, You didn't want to stop being in my nights, You didn't want to stop making me feel a warm cold inside me.
How could you be so warm, if there was that cold wind inside you..
It all happened without me realizing it.
The moment you lose control is like when a bar of soap slips out of your hands.
Touching you was piece for mind, losing myself to find another part of me.
Betray to challenge yourself. Sin to challenge the Unknown.

<<Have you stopped loving me?>>, I asked you one evening.
That word escaped me like my purity after meeting you.
But how could you love me, an angel.
How could you love me, knowing that you would crumble me, break me into a thousand pieces.
How could you fix such a fragile heart.
Yet the answer surprised me.
Yet you left.
Yet, I still wait for you.