Drifting in the Space of Ramblings

Ramblings About Passion

Stella...

Why did I remember her now?

The long, curly hair, a light brown so common among the women out there. When I was eighteen, she moved into the house next door, a thirteen-year-old girl with long, white legs. She always flirted with me, but I thought she was too young.

Time passed, I moved out of my parents' house, and I met her again at twenty-six after the end of a very complicated relationship. She wasn't so young anymore. That girl with the long legs had become quite the woman. We were together for a month, but I could never shake the image of that thirteen-year-old child from my mind; I think that's why our relationship didn't work out. I never treated her like a woman; I always acted as if she were still a child.

A month might seem like a short time, but true passions mark our lives regardless of anything else.

She was the most upbeat girl... Woman... I ever met. Always smiling, dancing, and having fun no matter the situation. She lifted me up. I never took her seriously, or our relationship, but maybe if we had more time, we would have loved each other. Perhaps love comes with time, and passion is too immediate.

She ended up getting back together with an ex-boyfriend, and I pretended she wasn't that important. Until now. I never imagined I would think of her this way, with these feelings passing through me in my final moments. I wish I had more time with her.

I try not to think of her anymore, but I soon start singing the first song that comes to my mind.

"Oh, Stella, I want to give you the world if you stay with me tonight. Stella, Stella! I want to give you the world if you hold me tight. Hold me tight."

What is she doing today? Did she get married? Have kids? Is she still the happy, upbeat person I knew, or did the world manage to bring her down somehow? I think the world finds a way to bring everyone down sooner or later.

I've spent much more time with some women without feeling the passion I felt for her; I wish I had fallen in love more times, but I've always been too busy, too closed off, too restrained...

I look at the stars, and only then do I realize that's the meaning of her name; I try to convince myself that it was because of the stars that I thought of her, that she wasn't as significant in my life as I'm thinking now, but the truth is quite the opposite. I wouldn't even have noticed the stars around me right now if it weren't for her; the stars wouldn't be as beautiful and bright if it weren't for her; my life would have been much less interesting if it weren't for her.

I feel like an idiot.

She probably doesn't even remember me.