Lost In You

Losing myself with every inch of your body and every millimeter of your existence, feeling as my soul was renewed quickly and gently.

When I look at those beautiful eyes that once looked at me too, with that innocent look of the two of us, getting lost in the beauty of your figure and the depth of your eyes. Your face, an incredible and wonderful masterpiece capable of competing with great artistic pieces by memorable Renaissance artists. That smile that illuminated the entire place while showing honesty in it. Holding your hands and looking into your eyes I told you how much I loved you, with that dim light that only gave the environment a feeling of incalculable purity. Seated at ground level, alone, each one of us lost in the thoughts and desires of the other, then it begins to build an atmosphere of absolute happiness, without double meaning, without desire of any kind, only the thoughts and longings of the other submerged into the waters of what is popularly known as love. Losing myself with every inch of your body and every millimeter of your existence, feeling as my soul was renewed quickly and gently. This moment was concluded with a kiss which creates a discharge of all those emotions and feeling enchanted by this, all of this creates a moment worth treasuring.

© Gabriel Berm


“Those incredibly beautiful hypnotizing eyes are as beautiful as the one who bears them.”

A wave of strangely familiar sensations overwhelms me repeatedly during the day, just when I think of you. That kiss, which was nothing else than just fun for you, it also was just for fun me at the beginning, but, it was as if a connection had been created, it’s difficult to explain, it was not supposed to affect me so much, that kiss only happened once, a little kiss lost in time. But I think of you often, most of the times without intending to do it, I only think of that moment, how I would love to have extended it longer, to have a deeper memory and preserve that moment forever. Those incredibly beautiful hypnotizing eyes are as beautiful as the one who bears them. A silky and indisputably beautiful hair. Touching your skin could send anyone into an ecstasy of happiness. Those astonishingly ordinary lips are the finest lips I’ve ever seen. A combination of inner and outer beauty, make an average but at the same time precious woman. All this being no more than a mirage, a false oasis in the middle of a hot desert, it is incredible how something could be seen so real without being it. It’s evident that for you I am nothing more than a simple grain of sand, perhaps not so simple, I am probably a grain of sand that stands out a little from the rest, but in the end, I am still a grain of sand. A bit toxic and dangerous, an overdose of yours would be, nevertheless I keep walking towards an endless abyss full of mirages, being you the most real of them all. I move, and I see you, more and more real, but increasingly far away. Grim destiny, living from the water of mirages in the middle of the desert, a desert that evaporates the water so fast that it can’t even touch the sand. Maybe you are not a mirage that I alone can see it, plausibly someone else shares this illusion with me, only that he is possibly closer, only that this depends on the Mirage itself.

© Gabriel Berm

A Parallel Universe For Us

it hurts me that I can not show you my love in its entirety because that requires you to feel the same…

When I see you, my words become numb and I can not avoid seeing you in the eyes, thinking that maybe in some parallel universe with its myriad possibilities, we are together. A universe in which a sequence of events have occurred perfectly that led to the love of my parallel self-being reciprocated by your parallel you, even there’s a possibility that your parallel self, had fallen in love with my parallel self and it was unrequited. Obviously, these are just ramblings of a poor man with nothing more than that, the imagination. Because the truth is that while it hurts like a cut of the sword of Damocles, you do not love me. I could spend every day and night repeating it myself in order to convince me that this does not affect me, that when you see me you don’t see what I see in you, knowing that I have no choice but to imagine parallel universes to appease the pain of my heart. Wasting myself in an ocean of tears that, though vast, is not as great as the ocean of grace in which I get lost when I am with you. None of this helps, none of this has an end, they are just useless attempts to achieve an impossible goal. There is an appeal to the unknown and the impossible, the fuel of this attraction is hope, although my rational self, accepts and understands flawlessly the reason why you do not love me, my irrational self, keeps alive the hope that someday I’ll get to know how being loved back feels like. The idea that there are parallel universes is widely debated in the scientific community, but I prefer to believe that it is true, that way I can close my eyes and imagine a future with you without feeling that I am lying. To imagine kissing your forehead at night and seeing your face when I wake up is part of my daily routine, lifts my deepest feelings. I think that love does not follow a natural cycle, that’s why God is often associated with love because love is timeless, love exists since we have memory, love is not passionate kissing or simple sex, although it is true that both can have “love” are not “love” by themselves. I love you and I have never touched more than your hands, I firmly maintain that when you love a person so much that the desire is not physical but rather something indefinable is when you go from “liking” or “wanting” to “love”, seeing you ten minutes makes me happier than being with 15 women for six hours. That’s what hurts me, it hurts me that I can not show you my love in its entirety because that requires you to feel the same. Though in the present it hurts when I do something in order to like you and it does not succeed, deep down what hurts me is that you can not see what I have for you, or maybe you do see it but you just don’t want it in your life or simpler, you just don’t love me. I hurt myself when I write about you or when I think of what can not be, but I have to admit that by the mere fact that my heart vibrates when I see you, I would go through any pain.

© Gabriel Berm

Más De Cien Palabras

Todo lo que nunca fuimos y nunca seremos…

La constante de Champernowne es un número irracional que tiene una característica realmente interesante, contiene todo. ¿Todo? Sí, todo; pero ¿cómo? Y ¿qué es todo? Tras una no muy compleja pero larga explicación se llega a la conclusión de que al sustituir números por letras, se podría encontrar eventualmente el Quijote entero, no solo el Quijote, sino todos los libros que han existido y van a existir, todas las palabras alguna vez dichas y las que nunca se dijeron, los mayores secretos de la humanidad, las últimas palabras de Earhart y las primeras palabras de Jesus; pero al instante que me enteré de la capacidad de este número poco conocido no pude evitar pensar que en algún lugar de este número están las palabras exactas para derretir tu corazón e incluso, están las instrucciones detallas paso a paso de como llegar a tus labios. El simple hecho de saber que dentro de un número tan irracional como mi amor por ti, está el “te amo” que mi corazón tanto anhela, me genera un sentimiento de frustración y paz (si es eso humanamente posible). Todo lo que nunca fuimos y nunca seremos, todas las palabras que te dije y no escuchaste, todos los “te amo” no correspondidos, los besos que nunca nos dimos y que es claro que nunca pasarán, los pensamientos que pasan por mi mente cuando te veo a los ojos, la sensación de tomarte la mano, el número exacto de lágrimas que derramaríamos juntos por una causa común, los deseos de tu corazón y del mío, los lugares que conoceríamos, la fecha y el lugar de nuestra boda, las medidas en m2 de nuestra casa, mi hora de defunción y la tuya, lo que salió mal y lo que pudo salir peor, todo esto enfrascado en C10 = 0.12345678910111213141516…  ¿Quién diría que nuestro amor sería confinado a una infinidad de decimales?

© Gabriel Berm

Beyond a Hundred Words

“…what went wrong and what could be worse.”

The Champernowne constant is an irrational number which has an interesting feature, contains everything. Everything? Yes, everything; but how? And what is everything? After a not very complicated but long explanation it is concluded that by substituting numbers by letters, one could eventually find the whole Don Quixote, not only Don Quixote but all the books that have existed and will exist, all words ever said and never told. The greatest secrets of humanity, the last words of Amelia Earhart and the first words of Jesus. But instantly I learned the potential of this little-known number I could not help thinking that somewhere in this figure are the exact words that would melt your heart and even, there are step-by-step instructions on how to seize your lips. The mere fact of knowing that within such an irrational number —as my love for you— is the “I love you” that my heart desires for, it gives me a feeling of frustration and harmony (if that is even humanly possible). All that we never were and never will be, all the words I told you and you did not hear, all the unrequited “I love you”, the kisses we never granted each other and it is evident they will never happen, the thoughts that go through my mind when I see your eyes, the feeling of holding your hand, the exact number of tears that we would pour together for a common cause, the desires of your heart and mine, the places we would visit, the date and location of our wedding, our house’s measurements in square feet, my time of death and yours, what went wrong and what could be worse, all this imprisoned in C10 = 0.12345678910111213141516… Who would say that our love would be confined to an infinity of decimals?

 © Gabriel Berm

The Line

“…those big brown eyes that could turn the most fierce atheist into a Christian.”

I saw her on the line in an airport, and I just couldn’t keep my eyes away from her, she was just stunning. A red shirt with a square pattern, a pair of jeans with boots as high as her knee, all these clothes covering a delicate skin, her face was just beautiful, with a tiny nose, pale lips and some freckles. She was jaw dropping, while I was doing the line I tried to know more about her Where was she from? What was her name? But I didn’t succeed. I’m sure she noticed my interest, but either she disliked me, or she didn’t have time to speak. Once she left the line, I thought that would be the last time I would see her -probably- ever in my life, but no, her seat was just in front of mine on the airplane, she was accompanied by a senior man who I believe was her grandfather. They both had a red passport, but I couldn’t see where was it from. She sat on the window seat, and throughout the three-hour-long flight, I could see for a couple of seconds her eyes, those big brown eyes that could turn the most fierce atheist into a Christian. I couldn’t listen to her voice as much as I would like to, but when I did, it felt like the most charming of voices, one of those voices that can read the phonebook and still sound profoundly moving. She was less than two feet away from me, and I wasn’t able to say a single word. The hours with nothing but a plane seat between us and I could n’t tell. What would a simple “hello” do? She was going to Ecuador or some other country in South America, and I was going home, could something come out from this? Even if we didn’t say a word to each other throughout the flight, we said everything with our bodies; nothing could ever work out, different countries, different cultures but the same heartbeats. Once the plane landed, I gave her and her grandfather my place in the line to exit the aircraft; we met at a line, and we were separated at another one.

© Gabriel Berm

The Very First Moment

“Every heartbeat my heart made became a serenade to your existence.”

Since the second that I gazed at your beautiful sparkling brown eyes, I knew my heart would never beat the same way and that my brain could barely keep it up with the love I was starting to feel for you. Every heartbeat my heart made became a serenade to your existence. Your lips became a mystery that will likely stay unsolved for me. Your beauty makes the whole stared night to dedicate its stars to your existence. Your heart and mind took over mine, every thought I have started with you in my mind. And God, your voice, your voice is just perfect, and your laugh became my favorite thing to listen to. Holding your hand began to mature into an unreasonable but worth goal to go after. If only this unrequited love could be a required one, my world would change, and I’ll try to change yours in the best of ways. I would rather be dead if you were not in this world, even if we’re not together and we have a million miles between us; because the world without you would be an empty place, a miserable place. All the love songs I listen to are dedicated to you only my dear; life is too short to live without love even if that love is unrequited, it’s love at the end. Arguably the most heartbreaking for of it, but a living without love is not a worth living life. My deepest thoughts are with you, and these lines are a poor attempt, to show you, my love.

© Gabriel Berm