I was 16 and she was 22. My first love. She lived at home in protected surroundings, I was on the street. A runaway. I hungered and as survival became tougher and my choices narrowed I knew good bye was inevitable. I cried bitterly when I left and promised to come back. I never saw her again. Life ist not the least tied to what we want and wish and hope, life does it’s own thing. I learnt.
Mette and I and cph – that is a kind of a love story of 17 years and we thought and hoped the story would continue without too many heartaches and worries. Then corona happened and then this hitherto unthought thought began to come at us. Will cph survive? Philosophizing on unpredictability is in truth a perhaps useless pastime because when the reality of the unplanned catastrophe hits you it is everything other than just some smoothie. It’s so dreadfully painful and hard, that it sheer swallows the ground on which you are standing. All our lives we know we can hold on to nothing, but then disaster happens or threatens to happen and we are caught in this flood of helplessness and anxiety. What, we must ask in this transient existence, remains?
What remains of cph if cph is taken from us? It must be this: cph was a story of beauty and goodness, of the two things that give our lives meaning in the face of the unpredictable, of death and suffering. cph is still here, still alive but always in need of your support for which we are always deeply thankful,