He gives me so much hope and joy. He sees my true colours, my inner being. He sees my strength, my father’s strength, and my eyes. When I kiss him, I kiss myself, like from within. I feel lust and love and also freedom. He doesn’t judge me or hold me back. My obsessions are transformed into art. I eat chocolate again, I eat bread and cheese. I even drink a glass of wine from time to time. He has taken me to the sea, we’ve been to exhibitions and met a friend. What a painter. I feel nothing but joy and inspiration but at the same time I feel guilty. I tell myself it’s too late.
But it’s never too late to live, to laugh and to be happy.
Anna is a four-letter word. But hope is life.
Hope is the thing with feathersEmily Dickinson
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all