Sous la lumière blanche

Je t’ai attendue sous la lumière blanche. Celle qui éclaire l’enseigne du linge de maison. Là, où tu m’as dit qu’un jour nous irions acheter le notre. Je n’y ai pas cru. Je ne te l’ai pas montré. Tu avais le droit de rêver. De me raconter tous ces projets que tu faisais. Pour nous, notre avenir. C’était bon de les entendre. Tu étais en paix. Je t’écoutais. Nous étions si bien. Cela me suffisait le matin. Quand, je venais te rejoindre, que nous marchions main dans la main. Je savais que tu pouvais pour un rien t’enflammer. Un caractère de feu. Pour un mot de trop. Pour une contradiction. A l’inverse de ta passion. Comme hier. Où j’ai eu le tort de te contredire. S’aimer, c’est aussi avoir le droit de tout dire. Sans se retenir. Je le pensais. Tu ne l’as pas accepté. Pourtant, il n’y avait rien de mauvais. Mais, pour toi, ce n’est pas comme ça que cela devait se passer. T’aimer. C’est te désirer. Au point de sacrifier ses idées pour t’honorer. Je ne l’ai pas fait. Je t’ai attendue sous la lumière blanche. Sachant que tu ne viendrais pas. Trop orgueilleuse. Je suis resté. Pour ne rien regretter. Le magasin s’est fermé. Laissant la lumière blanche m’inonder. Dans le reflet de la vitrine. J’y ai vu ma triste mine. Au-dessus, l’enseigne du linge de maison. Là, où tu pensais que nous aurions pu, un jour, acheter le notre. Je sais maintenant que tu y viendras avec un autre.
Lire la suiteUnder the white light.

I expected you under the white light. That which lights the ensign of the household linen. There, where you told me that one day we would buy ours. I did not believe there. I did not show myself it. You had the right to dream. To tell me all these projects which you made. For us, our future. They was good to hear them. You were in peace. I listened to you. We were so well. That was enough for me the morning. When, I came to join you, that we walk hand in the hand. I knew that you could for one nothing ignite you. A character of fire. For a word of too. For a contradiction. Contrary to your passion. As yesterday. Where I was the wrong to contradict you. To like, it is also to have the right all to say. Without retaining itself. I thought it. You did not accept it. However, there were nothing bad. But, for you, it is not as that which that was to occur. To love you. It is you to wish. At the point to sacrifice its ideas to honor you. I did not do it. I expected you under the white light. Knowing that you would not come. Too much proud. I remained. Nothing to regret. The store was closed. Letting the white light flood me. In the reflection of the window. I saw my sad mine there. Above, the ensign of the household linen. There, where you thought that we could, one day, to buy ours. I know now that you will come there with another.
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