It always comes to this point where I can’t remember
how it felt before.
And there is always this frozen feeling
that I believed in more happiness than I deserved.
There is something I only told you
when we finally got down on our knees sorrounded by ashes:
I was raised on war.
I were always ready for battle.
Without knowing it, I had built myself the tools to fight.
I would do our same rituals in a half.
I’d throw my clothes on the floor just to have a little mess to fix later,
just to remember no one ripped them off this time.
I would fight the shower courtain to not get sticked in that disgusting green,
and the water would be 80 degrees.
It’s time to say goodbye to my lovely Tampere…
How many times I’ve thought about this moment
and how many mixed feelings do I have.