Seven seconds

It's not a second - seven seconds away - Just as long as I stay - I'll be waiting. Youssou Ndour and Neneh Cherry.
Little, 17 year old Emeralda breathing heavily in the dark basement, hiding behind old bikes and what not. The music on full volume, her head nodding away. Like a californian surfer wave the sounds are washing her away, breaking her down, melt her, break her, make her sand.
We are all sand in this weird ocean of life. Ah yeah. A spider. She squeaks. Upstairs she hears his mother scream when she turns the volume down. Wait a little longer. I can wait. I always did. Sometimes it is quite tiresome. You wait and wait and let your hopes and longing float on a river of music, like little chines prayer candles floating down the rivers. And then you see them disappear in the dark, little stars, little messengers of love and they never return. Until you get into that boat and float down yourself. And, unfuckingfortunately enough, you see all those little candles burnt down floating belly-upwards in the water, waiting for something to stop them or to drown them. You feel like punching them with the paddle of your boat but you just drift by and while everything about you is seemingly motionless inside there is this tornado swirling your emotions in a wicked caroussell like move and finally you feel how everything is crushing. You leave the burnt down candles and try not to see them as a sign but as life, as what it is. Hearts are broken everyday. That's what people do. They live on. Somehow. Some show the devastating desert outwardly. They try to still the thirst with alcohol. With other substances. They try to wash the memories away. The burning flaming thoughts that haunt you day and night. Eveyrwhere you go. No you try to do that for real. Maybe this kiss can extinct the burning desert sun. Maybe this song can bring a fresh breeze, alluding to better times. But nothing can stop this drought slowly burning everything down. From sucking the essential joy from anything you do. It's like, nothing makes really sense then - anymore. In a world without you.
It's funny how well everything still functions. You look at your hand, slowly moving the paddle while you float down, trying to stir somewhat but mostly accepting that the current will take you anyways whereever you are meant to be. The hand works the paddle. Firmly, perfectly. Your body functions so well, just the heart aches but you get used to that too. The trees move in the soft breeze. The world moves on. Weird how perfectly everything works. How can that be, when all the candles you found were long gone and dead?
Soon, soon you will reach the ocean, the mother of all tears, the home of every sad smile, playing with sunrays and with star rays eternally moving, indifferent towards the million voices that whisper stories of broken hearts and desaster.

I wanted to swim upstream. I wanted to plant my seed close to the spring. I wanted to fight my way up there but too many tears pulled me downstream, they are longing to mingle with the salt water of the ocean, and even though they are many, even they can't still the thirst nor can they create an oasis in the middle of this desert. It is wickedly upside down.

Seven seconds away.

She finally gets up again, dusts her pants off and cautiously peaks outside the basement. The concrete stairs are cold under her bare feet. The mother stopped yelling. She looks up the wooden stairs to his apartment and her heart sinks two inches further down. She doesn't dare to go up there. What a loser, but she can't. Like a shadow she sneaks out of the backyard and walks towards the hill.

It is so hard when you want to love so badly. When the love inside is exploding into empty space.
And it is even harder when you have loved and lost.