I was all alone when he visited me. It was almost evening and someone was knocking the door. I didn't move, I stayed where I was: I wasn't waiting for someone. The knocking sound of the door was more constantly now than it had been 2 minutes ago. It was like someone had to talk to me and due to the knocking, it sounded important.
I was still there, I hadn't moved from where I was. Why would I? I just had to wait for him to give up and left; just as simple as that.
But it wasn't that way: he continued to knock, more loudly than before, waiting and maybe hoping I would open the door.
I didn't move, I repeat. The door was a few steps from where I was but I didn't want to open, I didn't want to know who was and what he wanted. I just didn't care. I was all quiet so that he wouldn't listen I was there. It had been 10 minutes since the first knock touched my door and apparently, he was starting to give up. I tried to stay in silence than before so I could listen better but I only heard a sigh and it sounded tired with disappointment and almost sadness.
It finally left. I saw the black and kind of red shadow moving away from my door walking slowly, when he was leaving. I can tell by the footsteps he had the hope that I would open... He wasn't behind my door anymore, he was gone.
* *
I got to understand what and whom was some few days later: love was knocking my door. How couldn't I seen it before? Was my mind trying to ignore who was? Was I conscious that love was knocking? Part of me, knew it and knew that I had ignore it.
Love was knocking my door and I hadn't open it. Love was trying to make me fall with him but I didn't want to. Love was standing there and I didn't care. Love was looking for me but I wasn't.
And I don't blame myself, because maybe, in some way, I knew it was him but I didn't want anything to do with love... That kind of love.
I know love will knock my door one of these days again. Maybe this time I'll open.
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