Joy and Sorrow
There's a word in Greek, χαρμολύπη (charmolipi). It's one of those words that's hard to translate. Someone online tried: "the sadness that emerges out of joy" or "the joy that emerges in the middle of sadness." But I feel it’s more than the causality or direction; it’s about the struggle itself. The coexistence of joy and sorrow—the battle between them. Being full and empty, all at once. --
I’ve talked to many people about her lately—basically my inner circle, my people. I don’t do that usually, at least not to this extent, but I felt I had to. Over the last years, I’ve caught myself being more open with them. I let go of more thoughts and emotions, let them access to parts of my psyche. I don’t know why this gradual change is happening. Is it part of maturity or a bonding mechanism? Most of them live far away for years now. Time and space is compressed. Our moments together are valuable; I have to use them wisely. There’s no time to waste on slow discoveries, I give it to them ready. --
–How are you? –I don’t know.
Everyone was caught off guard. Most of them never met her; we didn’t have the time. But they understand what she was to me. What she is to me. They know me. They are afraid. They care. They are intrigued. They are good friends, I am lucky in that. Charmolipi. -- "You’re a lucky man; you should be happy. Do you know how many men struggle with not having these things? Women love you, want you. You’re dealing with relationships, while others deal with just accepting themselves. For many, their only lovers are their addictions, alcohol, drugs. It’s a problem, sure, but it’s also a blessing," @nanalacana noticed. She usually does. She was a bit tipsy, trying to cheer me up. She's the second person telling me I am lucky with this. They know, but they don't. Charmolipi. -- We are careful, investigating territories of closeness. I got angry for a moment; she felt bad. It wasn’t at her—it was at the situation. I understand her. She knows. We are allies now, standing together against the cruelty of the past. Charmolipi. -- I’m glad you walked into my room that morning. We both needed it, even if it triggered more of this damn charmolipi.














