The More Effort You Put In, The Easier It Becomes. (Postcard no. 11)

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The more effort you put in, the easier it becomes 
To do it all over again.
 
It was hard on me when my best friend found the way to escape over the ocean
having what he could never have here in this trapped and forgotten city
in the depth of mountains
having tomorrow 
having hope.
 
I was trying to process the idea of him leaving by crying and smiling
in the same time
being happy for his new chance 
being sad for my reality without him
trying to hide my hopeless melancholy as birthmark I am not proud of
trusting in Rumi’s words that – 
Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation. 
 
Every other departure of a friend afterwards 
Came more easier on me, as inevitable storm on the sea
announced by clouds on the sky.
 
The more effort you put, the easier it becomes
To do it all over again. 
 
It was hard on me when first boy I loved squash my love
on the border between expectations and dreams
as cockroach on the dungeon floor.
All love stories are alike, we only shift through the time
collecting wrinkles around our eyes 
while smiling
in temptation of being modified version of ourselves. 
 
The more effort you put in, the easier it becomes
To do it all over again. 
 
It was hard on me to acknowledge that my marriage failed
I guess love tore us apart.
Some years ago, suddenly everything became more easier and more clear
Once I accepted that small life goes on 
And once I understood meaning of the words: 
This too shall pass.
 
I signed a contract with myself
to keep doing it all over again
endlessly until the end. 
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