martes, septiembre 25, 2018

Not even for love // Ni siquiera por amor

I've never knew how to be in the same place for a long time. I always got sofocated, always wanted to change, do something impulsive and have a brand new panorama. Completely unknown. 
But once I left, I thought about all that I had left behind and I wanted to come back.
I thought about how fragile we are, how ephemeral time is, how small we are and how far away we are from the constellations. 
I look out the window of the train while I travel to the city one more day. And while I constantly change of playlist I think about how fun would it be to not take the train, the bus or the subway; But to leave, anywhere, the first one I see when I arrive to the terminal because I know that's my path. The transition from one song to another welcome me back to reality, and though I try to think only about the lyrics of the song that is playing in my ears (mental gum just like a very wise friend would say), my head goes back to that place. 
"You were doing so good" I think.
Yes, today I miss you. And that's fine. It's the fourth day of the week but the first one that I do. I no longer fight against that feeling, I don't try to evaporate it anymore. It comes to me and I let it be. I welcome it, like it was a friend that I haven't seen in a really long time and I say "oh, you're here. That's okay. Come, come, stay with me as long as you need". Because I know that's part of the process, I know that I need it to heal, I know that if I try to put it in the back of the closet, it's never gonna leave, and I am just going to lose part of me that I won't be able to get back, and I don't want to get lost. No because of another person. 
I miss the sound of your laugh, I didn't hear it often but oh god, how good it felt when the sound of your laughter flooded my ears, when I knew the reason was something that I just said. Now I don't hear it anymore, that's why I repeat over and over again those time seconds when you recorded me dancing, when I was just being me with that madness you used to say you love so much. 
I guess it became all too much for you, and that no, no everybody goes mad once in their lives, not even for love.

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