Can you hear what the clouds are saying, what the summits are saying, what the leaves are saying, what the waves are saying?
When I cannot see you, when you are not around, when only the others are left, I imagine they are you, and I silently asks them: talk to me about her, talk to me about her, talk to me about her.
Their eyes are not as beautiful as yours, my heart does not beat faster when I am around them, their smiles do not make me forget about you
Red had got the message about friendship, but he wanted more. Once again, he was failing to understand she wanted time, and she had offered him an opening. He thought he should ask for some extra-terrestrial help, even though he was not religious. Who knows? If it was supposed to happen as he thought it was, then some mysterious force would surely help him if he asked long enough, and asking nature was a good start. He liked the idea of connecting to the power of the elements, of being part of a bigger plot in which she eventually would take her place. He also enjoyed more and more writing poems. It was a pity she could not read them, as she would surely have then understood how deep his love for her was.
He also knew he was hitting a low point, as much as he would have liked to think otherwise. It was now five months, more or less, that he had tried to connect with her, and he was going nowhere. Five months were like an eternity, an eternity he was wasting for nothing, with no end in view.
To be continued next Thursday...