Whenever he can, my cat comes to my room and jumps to my bed. He lays down with his paws in my legs. He doesn't pur, he just chills. This is his place now. 

I feel more like myself, and I'm also trying to embrace my choice, the lonelines I craved for. 

I picked my guitar again. Little by little I'm feeling the need of using it to canalize the energy inside me. It's like I'm learning a mother tongue all over again. I still struggle but it feels familiar. 

I embrace the loneliness. My mind oscilate among cold simulations. 

But beyond the solitude there's a deeper crave, another more meaningful decision I surrender to. 

A friend of mine saw this some time ago. 'This thing you have is for life', he said. And I agree. So now I believe it. 

In the end I may stay by myself, but I'll still be loyal to what I long. 

My deserter soul will keep longing for the day. A remote land. Red flowers. An old promise.