I am born in 1029.
In every calendar.
With one calendar, I came into this
world.
Probably searching for you.
With another calendar, I fell
in love with you.
That
day too,
in its own way,
I was born again.
The woman who entered your room in 1029,
though she left,
is worlds apart.
Why is loving you like this?
It
never ends.
It never diminishes.
It never finds rest.
It only accelerates.
Racing.
Faster and faster.
And I understood.
I must not touch its flow.
Because no matter which way it turns,
it only grows stronger.
I have learned.
To love it in silence.
Only to love.