The Sun Never Shone So Brightly

  The other day I was in a hurry. Going to an exam. It's a long walk, from my house to the campus, but it calms me. So, I was walking with my earphones, listening to some lovely music he gave me. Lovely, it's a cute word and it seems to describe it best. Sensual, emotional, cheerful, lovable...lovely. So, walking with my mind...I'm not quite sure where my mind was at that point, but it certainly wasn't on the exam, in the crowd of faceless passersby I spotted a smile. A wrinkled face, a straw hat, a wide smile and a pair of brown eyes looking at me. Straight at me. Feeling the warmth of this stranger's smile, instinctively, I slowed my pace. I tried to smile back only to realize that my lips were already widely spread into a grin. Funny, I thought, I was already smiling. The old man stopped in front of me and took his hat off, bowing his head. With a puzzled look on my face I pulled the earphones out of my ears expecting that shiny face to say something.

"Oh, what a smile, what a sunshine...The sun never shone so brightly."

My smile widened, but I couldn't utter a sentence as a reply to this silly man.

"Send my regards to the young man.", the stranger continued.

I already regretted pulling out my earphones, stopping the music, the walk, the dream...I was in a hurry for God's sake. I don't have time for a chat with some loony.

"What young man?!" I answered waiting for a proof of the old man's mental disturbance.

"The one that makes you shine."

And the old man with a straw hat went by, leaving me standing in the middle of the street. The young man is making me shine? I never realized that. The weather was nice, summer dresses were short, colours were bright... but I was the one that shone?

  He makes me smile. His arms make me warm. His kisses make my skin red, my lips tingle...but, that's how I know they are real. His words make me blush...but, I make sure I'm alone when reading them...hate people see me blushing.  His poems make me feel special.

  But, why should I admit that? Who on earth that grandpa think he is reminding me that I'm a big girl now, that I should always know what I'm doing, always be aware of my feelings, always be smart when with "a young man", never reveal too much, yet again never be too cold and shy because he will get bored and that is certainly not a good thing... I hate those rules. I tend to forget them when "behaving" and remember them only when I have already made a crucial mistake of calling him out, or later not wanting to kiss him with the spotlights on me... I'm a mess, I know. I won't ever get married because I don't have a plan, a strategy... But, you know what, I don't want a plan. I want to fall in love. F A L L  in love is the expression. We do not sit on love, deliberately, waiting for our bottoms to get warm. We fall in it. Like in a manhole in the street or, if you are a romantic, like Alice in the hole in the ground and eventually in the wonderland. It's a risk. I've fallen before, I must admit. It seemed like a wonderland, and it lasted for a while. But, suddenly I woke up in a manhole. Was it just a dream or some bad rabbit had kicked me out of that wonderful place, I can't tell. But, one I know, I got out of that whole and I am ready to fall again. Silly? Wanting to fall in a manhole all over again knowing how much pain, tears, sleepless nights in the cold it cost me? Haven't I learned anything? Oh, believe me I have. I have learned how much strength love can give, how many cloudless days and how bright a sunshine while raindrops are falling on your head. I have seen how truly wonderful the wonderland is, and no pain from a fall can compare to that blissful feeling of pure happiness while loving and being loved. And knowing how inexpressible that feeling is I won't try to describe it, I just want to live it, all over again. I might fall, again and again, but one day, I know, the guy will be ready to fall with me, no matter how deep the hole and he will be there to hug and kiss me if the landing would be painful.

  You might find me silly. And feel free to do so. I'm kind of aware of that. I have curly hair, you know, maybe that explains it all. Every morning I have no idea how it's going to look like. And during the day I have no clue how many times it will change its form, its mood. It can wake up with a smile on its face, beautifully shaped, full of life, and after a while get bored, tired, get a headache and fall asleep leaving me with a mess on my head. The only thing constant about it is its softness. What ever the mood it is always velvety. Like it is always ready to be touched, caressed. And I do show it love. As annoying and stubborn it might get I have to respect its ups and downs, you know. ‘Cause when its up it is so beautiful it makes me shine, and us two, we make heads turn.

  Don't you ignore my hair. It may be explaining the inexplicable. I may be a "planner", as they say, I do have every minute of my day planned in advance. But, don't be fooled, I'm still a mess. I plan my days so that I don't have much time for thinking of the inexplicable, unreasonable, untamed heart of mine. There it is. I've said it...sorry, written it. Heart is there to feel, not think, and I respect its individualism. Do respect it too, grandpa. Thank you for making me realize that he makes me shine even when his not around. I am glad that I made your day with my smile, and I hope that we will meet again through the regards that you will sent me seeing him shining on the other part of the city. But, don't make explain my heart. My hair is not in the mood today.