Strange confusion

- Time swallows up all the treasures that men can possess, and it has taken away the one that was mine for years...

- Please, my darling, don't cry, Cyclone protested tenderly. He would be sad if he saw you like this...

But no words could console Mama. At least as far as Dania could tell.

- I would have given anything to see him again, but unfortunately we can't bring back the dead.

- You loved him so much. He said, shaking his head, moved in turn. I still remember, when you had danced in 'the dazzling lights of the city's nothingness. You were so young. Before, when I heard what was said about you, I told myself that it was only the beating of wings that would disappear in the sands of maturity. He paused briefly.

-But when I realized what it really was, it was such that I was even changed. I became more sensitive to emotions. I was happy for your happiness, and even though death separated you, he left happy.

- Cyclone...

- There are things that even the will cannot change, so we might as well accept happiness in all its forms.

- I know... but despite that I still have the certainty that he will reappear in front of the door or sing in the night... would it be unhappy to see me thinking like this...Mother wondered, biting her lips gently, her face thoughtful and so nostalgic.

- You have the right to think about him, but you don't have the right to think only about him...

Mother smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders slightly.

- The truth is, Cyclone, there was a time when I was jealous of you, so jealous, and you know why, right?

-Because he always loved me more than you. He said simply.

They laughed together.

- Yes, perfectly.

- You loved him, so it's normal. It's very hard to share a loved one with others, especially if that other person is in first place, so I have no reason to resent this jealousy.

- But I also hope that you will stop resenting me for it.

- Of course... because you have no fault to forgive, none except that you loved him so much. And if one were to look at things in their entirety, it was rather I who was in the wrong. In the end.

They laughed together again.

I guessed that this bowl was from that friend whom Mom loved so much and still carries in her heart like an unchanging treasure even after all this time, after all the time he was gone. I was only just out of childhood when I discovered Mom's story. Her heart had remained faithful to her great love. Even as a child, she was the same age as Fiona when that friend died in a car accident.

If I hadn't heard it, I would have gotten over it. But precisely for all these reasons I found myself ugly in front of the stupidity that was mine.

When the noise resounded in the kitchen, I had the impression that my heart also broke into a thousand crystals. Not knowing what to do, I took the lead and running down the stairs, I opened the door and launched myself in the direction of the mountains. And as I ran away like the coward I was, I saw the accident again.

They talked and talked. But I had heard enough. I was a bit stunned that Mom had loved someone other than Dad so much. So I left them with a heavy heart. What hurt me the most was not the infinite love that mother had for the deceased, but that she could have loved him more than father. I took the bowl in my hands, contemplated it, for what reason exactly? I thought I could find answers to my questions, but the bowl was only a bowl, I looked away from its polished body and put it down as if its touch repulsed me and also made me betray the memory of my father, when everything became incomprehensible. The bowl slipped from my hands. Was it a punishment, for having thought like that, or for something else, an involuntary betrayal. Or a curse, whatever the cause, the bowl slipped out of my hands and smashed against the paved floor.

- Why am I like this? I whispered to myself piteously. Am I bad? Why can't my heart be good?

I recoiled at the horror of what I had done and at the same time saw the look in Mother's eyes when she saw what I had done. At that moment Fiona came into the kitchen, looking lovely in her flowery dress, and saw the shattered porcelain on the shiny tile. When she saw my face, she immediately understood which dish was broken and the reason of this accident. Anyone who saw me would have understood. It was as clear as the brightest day could be.

Without being able to hold back any longer, I stormed out of the clear room, jostling my sister in the process, who wanted to hold me back but I was already too confused to want to listen to reason or to hear her.

- My honey, come back!

I can still hear Fiona's voice trying to hold me back a few moments ago. But nothing would have been strong enough to hold me back. I reached the summits after several hours of walking, it was a true enchantment, this incomparable purity, this serenity which calms the heart, the winds played in my hair and filled it with natural perfume, in front of so much beauty I was able to understand my reactions, it is necessary for me to grow and to accept the imperfection of the men, there are those which wallow in this state of madness and those which seek this wisdom which will make the chains of the sin less heavy

Could I blame Mom for loving that man who was not my father?

And even if she could never bear such tenderness to the author of my life, was it her fault. I would have indeed wished to have the power to obtain all that I want from life, and to modulate it as I wish, but it was impossible, nobody had this power there, no human. I am sure that she also tried to love father in this way, but she was never able to do it. And if father himself did not blame her, did I have the right to blame him? And who was I to make such judgments about something that was beyond my comprehension? Bof...It was all too complicated. It was worth trying to forget everything.

I looked around me. The forest breathed life, songs filled the air, whether from birds or wind flutes. The leaves were creating incomparable sounds, the grasses were as high as my knees and already the elusive horizon was tinged with the night ready to cover the earth. All this incited my tenderness. But I was dirty, the sweat of my body disgusted me, I continued my way to look for water, the mountains had to abound in it. I left through mountains and wonders, but my research remained vain. At what time of the night did a man cross my path, a peasant without any doubt.