You cannot produce trust, just as you cannot do humility. It either is or either not. Trust is a fruit of a relationship in which you know you are loved. Because you do not know that I love you, you cannot trust me.

Wall around me, there are many and I can’t count them. They are high so that no one sees what ist behind them. The outer small but the inner cold and powerful. They are not beautiful but they protect well, me and fears and my anger. Laboriously I have built them for years.
And now you come.
You just tear it down and climb over it.
What do you expect from it, and who allowed you to do it?
I am afraid of you and my walls, which are getting higher and higher, which I have to build tighter and tighter from my loneliness and fear.
Will you keep climbing over my walls and until even the last one collapses, only to find, that the effort was not worth it, because than I would be alone again, but this time without protective walls.

Looking back on the memory of the dance we shared – neath the stars above.

For a moment all the world was right, but how could I have know, that you ever say goodbye.

Now I’m glad I didn’t know the way it all would end, the way it all would go.

Our lives are better left to chance.

I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.

Our times together feels like a storm, like fierce, wind and rain, something too big to handle and too strong to escape. It envirements me and tangles my hair, wets my face and makes me feel that I am alive, alive, alive …