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Oblivion

I try hard to understand. I try to understand what I did or said that was so wrong, that was punishable with the worse of deaths: Oblivion. I try hard to understand if I was punished for something I gave or for something I didn’t give, for something that happened during my time in your life or before. I guess I’ll never know. I guess I was given a unilateral right to silence.

And I am angry. Angry and hurt which makes the worst combination possible. But you always made fun of my feelings. As if I was some kind of immature shadow of a woman. As if I didn´t have the right to feel. It appears this non-right was extended to my feelings of love for you. I am angry that you did not try to protect my heart or me, for that matter. I went from being unconditionally held in your heart of gold to being thrown in the street without a notice of eviction. That hurt. Especially under the light of my opening the doors of my heart and my home to you.

I am angry that you did not think me important enough or intelligent enough or mature enough to understand your reasons to leave. Or what I think was your only reason to leave: that you did not love me. All the other things you talked about were merely excuses, things that we could have worked out together had you wanted to. But you decided WE needed time away from each other, and indefinite amount of time which would probably amount to nothing since you don´t even know if you want to be with me. I am angry you made future plans with other people but refused to plan anything at all with me.

I am angry at myself for being so stupid and offering to wait for you, when that was never the question. The thing is, you know, I never even knew what the question was. Until yesterday, when you said you would not sleep until you finished your tasks. I then understood that you will never be there for me as I need you. I would have been there for you had you wanted me. I was willing to follow you. But you have chosen your path and you have chosen not to walk hand in hand with me. Perhaps you have found someone else to walk with you. Perhaps you think I am not worthy of tarnishing your path with the soles of my feet. Perhaps it is just that you want to walk it alone or that you think you do not deserve to be happy or have someone love you this much. I am angry that all these things are in my mind and I will never get an answer for them. Deep inside i feel l’m worth nothing and I feel abandoned. Again.

I am sad. Sad that I will never touch your body again. Sad that I cannot talk to you again with the palms of my hands, with my fingers on your skin, my head on your chest. Sad I’ll never feel you again. Sad that experience has taught me that this volume is over and that it is only me that does not want to shelve it, because I might still be able to write on it. I know I am deluded.

I am sad that we never learned to listen to each other. Sad that we didn´t get the chance to build anything together. We were together for only three “damn” months, you know. I can forgive many things, even things that mean letting you walk over me. But three “damn” months, that hurt, it did. That was for you, the summary of our relationship. I am sad I was so stupid I could not see this.

I am sad everytime I talked to you about love, you ignored me. But you reacted to my anger and agression by saying hurtful things. And I said hurtful things too. I never wanted to hurt the man I loved. But I did, and I am sorry for that.

I am also very afraid. I am afraid I’ll never see you again. I am afraid you will never forgive me. I am afraid to lose you, I am afraid you won´t listen to me now. I am afraid you will attack me with painful words for what I have said. I am afraid of being rejected by you. I am afraid of being rebuffed and laughed at because of my feelings. I don´t want to lose you. But I guess that happened long ago, I just hadn´t been notified.

I am afraid you’ll fall ill soon. I know you wouldn´t want it, but your overexertion and your sacrifice breaks my heart. I would so much want to look after you and help you. But I know you don´t need or want that from me.

I am sorry I hurt you.I am sorry I didn´t open up myself enough, until it was too late and you were not in a condition to answer, and probably you weren’t willing to, either. I am sorry if it seemed to you I never understood what you were trying to say. I am sorry I never told you how much what you did for me meant to me. I am sorry I never expressed my gratitude and joy when you were there for me on my birthday and all the beautiful things you said to me that day. I was still living off that joy when you decided to say goodbye. I am sorry I seemed to you so terrible that you had to leave. And I am sorry for being so proud that I could never stop defending myself. And then you couldn´t stop defending yourself. Is is so sad that we had to keep defending ourselves from a person that we loved.

I am sorry I never took you to meet my parents. But you never asked why I didn’t and I am afraid you might have got it the wrong way. It doesn´t matter anymore, though.

I love you. I love you so very much. And I don´t regret it, not for one second. My heart is yours because you healed it. My heart is yours because you took the time to care. I loved your eyes and your voice, and every inch of your body. But even more, I loved your soul and your mind. I loved your conviction, your honesty, your commitment, your caring for others. I loved you. And I love your fight and I lovw your determination and your strength. And I forgive you for the hurt you caused me, you’re still causing me. I know that you loved me as best you could and then you had to leave. Thank you for the time of your life that you gave me. Thank you for the days and nights we spent together. Thank you for this love and this pain which remind me that there is still life in me. I love you. Again. I love you.

If I could wish for anyhing, anything at all, I would wish for you. To have you back, to have you forgive me, to start all over again, to forget we ever grew apart and talk everything over. I would wish that we’d be together, that you tell me you accept me as I am and that you love me.

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Cielo

¿Por dónde he de empezar? Son muchas las aristas y me da miedo que al elegir alguna se me olviden las otras. Sin embargo, hay que arriesgarse. Creo que ese es el asunto aquí, ya ves. El riesgo. El riesgo a abrirle la puerta a un futuro cerrándosela a un pasado que no funciona más.

Te he lastimado. Bueno, eso creo. Eso elige creer de mí la parte que siente las culpas, la parte que quiere proteger a todo y a todos de mí, la parte que me trata como si yo fuera victimario, y el mundo que me rodea, mis pobres víctimas inocentes. Sí creo que te he lastimado. Te acuse de usarme, y te pido que lo entiendas como una acusación proveniente de una defensa obsoleta mía. Nada más.

Tú no sabes de dónde vengo ni la historia que hay detrás de mí. Cuando has querido hablar del tema lo evado y he llegado a molestarme. Me pregunto qué pensarás al respecto, si te preguntas por qué. No me duele ya la gente que me hirió, ni los sentimientos que alguna vez pude haber albergado en mi corazón. Me duele la destrucción, el precio tan alto que tuve que pagar por mis errores, un precio que casi me costó la vida y que aun estoy pagando con el cansancio y las sombras que arrastro.

Yo no creí merecerme a alguien como tú. Por mucho tiempo floté en un mar de indiferencia e insensibilidad y no creí ser capaz de nuevo de sentir. No creí poder ser capaz de entregarme, de ir regalando poco a poco el corazón. No creí volver a abrir las puertas del alma. Y de repente ahí estás tú, que entraste sin avisarme, sin yo esperarlo. ¿cómo puedo volverte a contar lo que ya te he contado tantas veces? Eres para mí el ser más hermoso, que ilumina mis días y mis noches las cubre de estrellas parpadeantes. El silencio dejó de existir desde que entro en mi vida tu voz. La soledad se llenó de flores por cada beso tuyo.

Por fin, después de mucho tiempo, comencé a caminar. Caminé de tu mano por las veredas del cuerpo y me llevaste a donde nunca había estado. De tu mano dejé de tener miedo, dejé de temblar de frío y comencé a vibrar para tí. De pronto me sentí llena de una luz que había perdido hace mucho tiempo y que yo estaba segura reflejaron tus ojos.

Entré también en tu vida. Conocí algunos de los sitios más oscuros de tu alma y de tu historia. Y cada vez mi cariño y asombro iban en aumento. Mi admiración por los caminos que recorriste fue creciendo y supe que quería estar cerca de tí.

Hemos tenido choques, mi vida. No es fácil coincidir, no es fácil reaprender los caminos recorridos, no es sencillo aceptar otra visión. A los dos nos cuesta abrir los ojos. A veces así es, y no lo entendemos. Hemos tenido choques pero el cariño que nos tenemos, nos ha protegido; el cariño que nos tenemos nos ha acercado. Poco a poco hemos crecido en tolerancia y nuestra amistad se ha fortalecido.

Pero a veces es difícil decirnos la verdad. A veces ésta duele, y mucho. Y ese dolor ha amenazado con cegarnos muchas veces. Yo nunca te he mentido cuando te he dicho que te admiro muy profundamente. Nunca te he dicho que esa luz que quieres traer a otros me la has dado a mí, y me has ayudado a entender muchas cosas. Me ha dado miedo preguntarte, pedirte que me instruyas y me enseñes lo que sabes, que alumbres ese camino que para mí hasta antes de conocerte estaba en la oscuridad.

Tampoco te he dicho nunca lo mucho que pienso en tí, cuando estoy despierta; cuando estoy dormida me siento cerca de ti. Nunca te he descrito la perfección de las mañanas cuando despierto junto a tí, y te veo dormido a mi lado, y cuando te siento cerca de mí.

Pero a veces me siento como el océano que golpea contra las rocas, furioso, sin que nadie lo vea, sin que nadie lo escuche. Cuando siento que mis palabras son más simples y mas claras, se magnifican y retuercen hasta llegar a decir lo que nunca fue mi intención que dijeran. Y muchas otras ocasiones me he sentido como gritándole a un eco mudo, esperando una respuesta que me es negada.

Mi sensibilidad no está peleada con mi intelecto, mi cielo. Así como me lo dijiste en alguna ocasión, no creo que puedas encontrar a alguien como yo en esta tierra. Hablándote sinceramente, sin presunción ni modestia, dudo que encuentres a alguien con la misma combinación de ingredientes: inteligencia, alegría, ingenio, sensibilidad, fortaleza, ternura, compasión y paciencia. Lo dudo, y sin embargo no importa. Porque todos esos regalos de mi corazón pensaba dártelos poco a poco.

Mis silencios de la última semana se explican si te digo que me moría de miedo de confesarte lo que estoy sintiendo por tí. Me atrevo a decírtelo ahora que parece ser que lo nuestro se muere. No me llevo el corazón intacto, mi cielo. Porque si lo nuestro se termina, lo que siento por tí, se viene conmigo a donde quiera que vaya, aunque no estés tú.

Los sentimientos nos hacen nobles, mi cielo. Los sentimientos nos hacen luchar y vencer. La ciencia y el conocimiento no son nada sin amor. Y no estoy hablando aquí de religión, ni mucho menos. Pero el amor enaltece, y enaltece lo que hacemos, nuestro esfuerzo y el fruto de nuestra labor. El trabajo sin amor es un infierno, y no me digas que tú, en el fondo de tu ser, no sabes eso. Dime que los últimos meses que hemos pasado juntos, tu trabajo no te ha hecho más feliz.

Yo sé que un día, tarde o temprano, tendré que renunciar a tí, o seguirte. Pero si te sigo, quiero saber que vale la pena, que lo que haremos será puro y honrado, porque eso es lo que yo soy, y lo que veo en tí.

 

 

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On trust (or the incontrovertible proof that love exists)

There are many lessons that we have come to life to learn. However difficult it may be to understand, the most useful ones are the ones related to suffering and pain.

The moment I say this, however,  I come to realise that the lessons that encompass joy and loving come to us as difficult as may be, and perhaps for entirely different reasons. More of that to come.

Lessons. Lessons we have to learn. We have to learn to trust. Trust is essential to our survival. How can we live if we don’t trust that everytime we exhale we’ll be able to inhale afterwards? Would we close our eyes at night if we did not trust that the Sun will come back upo in the morning? And yet,  for all we know, the Sun might not come up tomorrow morning. Or it might be us that don’t wake up. And still we trust. We trust our mother will come and feed us and put us into bed and will come back in the morning with a smile on her face and love in her eyes. And that may not happen.

And still we trust.

Trust is blind, or rather the capacity to do so is. We only trust on the basis of it having been true before, or because we have no proof to the contrary. Only we sometimes have proof to the contrary. But even so, have we another alternative?

Lack of trust petrifies. Lack of trust kills the soul. Yet meny times throughout our lives our ability to trust and endure betrayal is tested in cruel and horrific ways.  When I was a girl, I found myself a “best friend” who not only betrayed my trust by telling all the classmates my parents were alcoholics but insulted me at every opportunity, wrote me horrible notes and left them on my desk and told everyone I had said things behind their backs, things she herself had said. Not only did I have to deal with the problems I had at home and not having anyone there to talk to, but I had given my loving and trust to a person who I considered my friend and who tried to destroy me.

Seldom do I think of this anymore, all these years later, but I am sure that it changed my life completely. I had been deeply hurt and it took me a long time to be able to trust again. I did talk to people and had a lot of friendly acquaintances, but not friends. The experience had been too painful.

As I grew older, I have found many loving people. And I have had to learn other lessons as well. Lessons on love. You know, it is hard to believe you deserve to be loved when so many people have hurt you. It is also hard to see what these people who love you might possibly see in you. These lessons are hard to learn not because they hurt, but because you try to rationalise things and understand. Love is not to be understood. Love is to be received and given back.

It is also difficult to learn to detach yourself from what other people do. Those people who have betrayed and hurt us did so because of their own inabilities to love, to care, to make the right decisions, to be honest and true. Being able to see this does not mean that disloyalty will not hurt. It does not mean that it will not matter. But it means that it will not destroy you.

For a brief time, this last betrayal made me regret ever loving, ever trusting the people involved. I gave the best of me to them and both were to low, too coward and too dishonest to speak the truth. Of course it hurt me. People will lie and cheat, people will do horrible things to you and then blame you so that they have an excuse to lie and cheat some more. After all I have learnt I refuse to let these people bring me down.

And only yesterday I was telling you I cannot trust anymore. You said I cannot, I should not stop trusting. But the truth is that I can’t. Because as long as I am trustworthy, and faithful and loyal I know that I can trust that there are people like me who deserve to be believed in.

I remember Liar Number 1 used to say: “Love does’t exist”. To me, the mere fact that you say that is proof that it exists. But now, I will go further and say that Love exists because I am able to feel it. Love exists because I can give it to others and I can give myself to those I love, even if they cannot love in return.

Which by no means I want in my life people who are love cripples. Ever again.

 

 

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On guilt

My therapist says that my guilt stems from a strange belief that I am almighty. I think sometimes she’s right, but other times I am not so sure.

Trouble is, I grew up feeling guilty about many things. Then I grew to realise that I am not guilty most of the times, or at least not completely.

Guilt has made me overlook my own happiness or wellbeing so many times, when I have decided that other people’s happiness is more important than mine. I feel guilty about hurting others even when they have broken my heart. I don’t like to think about myself as stupid, but I have been TOO good sometimes.

Through guilt I have let many people dictate onto myself their mistaken opinions about me. I have believed those opinions are universal, fixed rules and I had to live by them. I am always angry,  they say. I cannot be taken seriously. I am too blunt. I am too sensitive. Or, the greatest one of all: I am not a heartless bitch. (Though I cannot say I don’t wish I were, at least sometimes).

Oh so many times I have wanted to be “perfect” for other people’s sakes! But I suppose it is a part of growing up and with the years I have come to realise that those people who cannot accept my true essence might as well hit the road immediately. I am not about to defend myself. It happens so that I now feel I am perfect the way I am.

I am not angry all the time. Of course, except when confronted with sheer stupidity or injustice or dishonesty or incoherence. I should not let my mood be swayed by these things, especially because they so abound everywhere.

Yes, I always find something to laugh about. People with no sense of humour find this really frustrating. I simply find people with no sense of humour a bit dull and stupid. But fun to laugh at. Like this person who was my boss and always got angry when I joked about anything or this guy I dated who always had terrible timing for humour and jokes. But at least he could laugh.

It is true, however, that I use this as my armour, to protect myself from being attacked or hurt. Problem is, you see, it is always somewhat automatic.

Yes, I am blunt. I am overly sincere. Too much of an honest girl, most of the times. I confess I can be rude if I want to or am angry. But I pride myself in my honesty. I do not lie. I do not lie when I say I do not lie. You just don’t do that. It is unacceptable. And, to everybody’s surprise, it has won me more friends than enemies. Even people I frankly dislike prefer to come to me with their problems because they know I am sincere and honourable and shall never disclose their secrets.

And yes, I am too sensitive. I have a heart; a big, loving heart, surprisingly even for me, who thought it dead and broken. Almost a year ago I went looking for a fortune teller who said to me: “Love is wherever you go”. Sometimes I don’t feel loved at all but then I guess he meant I can never stop loving. That has been my blessing and my curse. I know I can speak of undying love because I have lived it.

It is true I have become hard-hearted and sometimes I think of myself as cruel. But then I realise that it is through guilt that I come to think of myself this way and I try and forgive myself and realise that, when I say to someone, like I did today: “I want you out of my life”, it is because I am looking after that heart that has been broken so many times and that is my greatest treasure.

Therefore, the verdict is: Not guilty.

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Somebody

Following in the tradition of Depeche Mode‘s “Somebody“, this is what I want:

1. Honesty.

2. Loyalty.

3. Respect: I am who I am and I don´t want that changed. Surely, one can do things for the person one loves, but in essence, if you dislike my having feelings, or my crying when something hurts me or saddens me, or the way I laugh about everything, or my intellect, or my sense of humour, or my sensitivity, or my honesty, or my caring about other people, just don´t bother.

4. Freedom. This goes hand in hand with the previous point. As in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre: I am no bird, and no net ensnares me. I am independent, lonely and individual and I want nobody tresspassing on that. For me, to love someone entails letting them fly. Love is watching them fly. Love is sometimes flying together. Love is being waited for while you venture alone.But not alone, for love is in your heart and you know that he who loves you is supporting you from afar.

5. Someone who knows how to love, who knows how to be loved and who wants to be loved.

6. Someone who will fight for the relationship and will do everything to make it work and will not just throw hiw arms up.

7. Faithfulness. No need to say anything else.

8. Hardworking and work ethics. First universal truth: work cannot and should not be everything in a person’s life. However, to my eyes, a respect for one’s work is a true mark of professionalism and honesty that cannot be replaced by anything. And, if anything, the kind of example I would like my childern to learn.

9.Intelligence. But not solely or, more than, academic. In fact I’ve met people who are brilliant in their field but treat people like rubbish.

10. Tenderness.

11. Someone who’ll listen to me and who will want to talk, too.

12. Someone funny. For me, this is definitive proof of a higher intelligence and soul.

13. Cleanliness and orderliness.

14. Someone strong and brave, with dreams and ambitions.

15. Someone to go to sleep and wake up with, look after, kiss and caress.

16. Someone to share life with and grow up together.

17. Have I said BRAVE???

18. Someone who is able to acknowledge when he’s wrong and that can forgive when I am.

19. Someone I feel attracted to and who is attracted to me.

20. Someone who does not tolerate violence, verbal, or otherwise, towards other people or animals.

21. Someone I can count on.

22. Someone who will not expect me to read his mind.

23. Someone who will do anything to be with me.

24, Someone who will want to build a life together and walk hand in hand.

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what i know

i know many things that aren’t useful

an example? i know so many different ways of making people get away from me

i know about twenty ways of crying in solitude

weeeping, sobbing, screaming, tearing the soul apart

and my bed

i know about a hundred ways of living without you.

it was true love

i tell myself that all love is true

i know of a hundred ways to kiss your eyes

of a thousand to touch your skin

that i never got to try

a hundred and one ways to hold on to your arms forever

and a hundred and ten to hold myself not to feel your absence

i know about a multitude of words that could have sounded so sweetly in your ears

words like love, compassion, forgiveness and fear

but I can think of a millon ways not to forget you

everytime I am naked I see you

we discovered my body together

when i see the dawn every day i only see a shadow of the most beautiful

dawn that ever existed

the one i once gave to you

wrapped between my legs and my arms

was yours alone

everytime i am empty

i remember you

no one to hold in my embrace

when i hear the birds singing i hear the sweet songs i never sang to you

and whenever i see people kissing

your mouth in my lips

in that office

your hands on my body

in that office

having you in my bed

who had who?

the wind blows my hair; the hair you fell in love with

your eyes filled with tears when i had it cut

the strength of your embrace

how it let me breathe

and watching you sleep on top of me

my room, my bed, my blankets

speak of you and me in hushed tones

i know so many ways to love you

i loved you, and i loved you deeply

i only know i had no choice

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Perdonar

“Perdono las lágrimas que me hicieron verter.

Perdono los dolores y las decepciones.

Perdono las traiciones y mentiras.

Perdonolas traiciones y las intrigas.

Perdono el odio y la persecución.

Perdono los golpes que me hirieron.

Perdono los sueños destruidos.

Perdono las esperanzas muertas.

Perdono el desamor y los celos.

Perdono la indiferencia y la mala voluntad.

Perdono la injusticia en nombre de la justicia.

Perdono la rabia y los malos tratos.

Perdono la negligencia y el olvido.

Perdono al mundo, con todo su mal.

Seré naturalmente capaz de amar por encima de todo desamor.

De dar aun habiendo sido desposeída de todo.

De trabajar alegremente incluso en medio de todos los obstáculos.

De extender la mano aun cuando esté en la más completa soledad y abandono.

De secar las lágrimas aun medio del llanto.

De creer aun sin ser creyente.”

De Paulo Coehlo, Aleph.

I resisted temptation to write the name of all the people who I consider to have done me wrong next to each line. And then I caught myself thinking, this is not very forgiving of you. However, some of these things still hurt my soul when I think of them, when I re-live them through memories.

But I need to walk on, I need to walk on and reconstruct my life and I cannot carry all this weight upon my shoulders. Not if I really want to find the happiness I have earned.

I choose to forgive those who hurt me. And to forgive myself for the same reason.

by

Una mañana en un taxi

Ayer como siempre se me hizo tarde para salir de casa y tuve que tomar un taxi.

“Al metro miguel angel, por favor”

“Buenos dias, señorita, como la trata la vida?”

“Buenos días, bien.”

“Va a decir: “nos trata, que ya es ganancia, ¿no?””

“Pues si”

“¿No tiene frío?”

“No, de hecho tengo calor.”

“Fíjese que siempre decimos que la vida nos trata mal cuando somos  nosotros. Nosotros creemos que vemos la realidad, pero lo único que vemos es nuestra verdad.”

“Si es cierto…”

“Pero yo creo que cada dio que nos toca vivir es como un  examen. Si usted tiene un examen ¿cómo quiere salir? Pues bien, ¿no? Que sea aunque sea seis, pero que pase. ¿Y cómo se siente cuando no estudió para un examen? Mal, ¿no? Si usted creen en Dios tendrá fé, y si no creerá que es la naturaleza, pero todos tenemos la confianza de que pasaremos el examen cada día. ”

“Si, son problemas que nos pone la vida.”

“No, no son problemas. Cada día es un examen. si uno esta preparado lo pasa, si no no. Para eso cuenta con la información que ha adquirido desde que nació hasta hoy. Hoy, por casualidad se encontró conmigo y su información se enriqueció, porque yo tengo otras experiencias.”

…

“¿Qué es lo más importante para usted?”

“…Mi vida…”

“Lo mas importante para usted es su vida. Y ¿quién es la engargada de cuidar esa vida?”

“Yo.”

“¿Y lo hace?”

“No siempre…”

“No siempre. Y si Dios le dio a usted esa vida para que la cuidara y no lo hace, ¿no van a empezar los problemas?”

“Pues si.”

“Si usted le permite a su novio, esposo, amigos, que se acerquen a su vida y la lastimen, sigue siendo su vida lo mas importante? ¿Ha dejado que la lastimen?”

“Si…”

“Cuando tiene un novio o esposo usted esta entregando títulos, dejando que esa gente entre en su vida y tiene que tener mucho cuidado de a quien deja entrar, a quien le da el poder de acercarse.”

***********************************************************************

Si, hay una lista bien larga de la gente a la que he dejado acercarse. Y gente a la que he dejado lastimarme.

Gente a la que dejé que me lastimara porque yo pensaba que de eso se trataba el amor, de sacrificio y de soportar.

Sin afán de quejarme, ya me sacrifiqué mucho, y soporté otro tanto. Y ahora creo que tampoco estoy tan segura de entender o de querer aceptar que para amar a alguien es necesario sacrificarme o soportar lo que hace la gente, que dicho sea de paso es, en la mayoría de los casos, pura mierda.

Y tampoco estoy enojada. Sí, me encuentro a mí misma mucho menos tolerante y mucho menos aceptante con la gente, pero también me doy cuenta de que mi intolerancia es directamente proporcional a la intención que tienen los demás de aprovecharse o de abusar.

Empiezo a querer de otra forma. Empiezo a escatimar en detalles, en palabras cariñosas, en ternura, en besos. Empiezo a escatimar en dolor y en llanto. Ya no más.

Y quiero… quiero tanto como antes, y sueño con querer tanto como antes otra vez.

Aquello fue un curso muy intensivo en todas las tragedias, pero no estoy dispuesta a repetirlo.

by

Lirio

Así que, antes de que se acabe el día, pensé en escribirte algo. A tí, mi amiga desde hace tanto años. ¿Quién iba a imaginarse que esas dos muchachas que empezaron como maestra y alumna se convertirían en amigas y seguirían siéndolo 11 años después?

No recuerdo el día que te conocí, pero recuerdo que en el primer curso que te dí estaban tú, Lilia y un tal Pablo. Recuerdo que en ese curso, que por cierto empezó en marzo, compré unos zapatos negros con mi primer sueldo. Recuerdo que se los enseñé a tí y a Lilia. Cuando terminó el curso, ustedes pidieron a esta muchachita principiante para que volviera a darles clase. Y así pasaron muchos cursos,  al principio llevaba la cuenta, pero ahora ha pasado mucho tiempo y ya no recuerdo cuántos fueron.

Recuerdo como cada sábado nos íbamos a comer y luego yo te llevaba a las librerías. Espero que tu mamá no haya pensado que yo era una mala influencia. Creo que los libros no son un vicio tan malo, después de todo. Gracias por haber ido siempre conmigo y no haberte quejado. No sé si lo disfrutabas, pero creo que por lo menos fingías muy bien.

Cuando yo encontré otro trabajo, seguimos frecuentándonos, hasta que un día me dijiste que te ibas a Suiza. Me dio gusto, gusto que te salieras de ese trabajo horrible y que por lo menos por unos meses descansaras de todo eso.

No sé si tu te imaginabas lo que pasaría, pero yo no me esperaba la noticia que trajiste a tu regreso: habías conocido a alguien y te quedabas en Suiza! Me acuerdo que dije: ¿y a quién le pediste permiso? Es gracioso, siempre pensé que seríamos amigas hasta que fuéramos viejitas, pero nunca me imaginé que te irías.

Perdimos el contacto largo rato. La verdad es que tu me escribías más a menudo de lo que lo hacía yo. Gracias por tenerme paciencia con eso. La vida se me va a veces más rápido de lo que yo quisiera y pierdo de vista detalles que son muy importantes.

Te casaste con Dieter. YO me fui a vivir a Inglaterra. Fue muy lindo estar más cerca de ustedes y haber podido conocer donde viven y acompañarte un poco en tu embarazo. Me gustó el lugar donde vivían: tan tranquilo, rodeado de la naturaleza, lleno de paz.

Siempre has sido muy generosa conmigo. Tú me financiabas mi colección de tarots (te fuiste antes de que la termináramos!!!), a veces me dabas dinero así nada más, de la nada; Dieter y tú me han dado de comer, me han llevado de paseo, me han regalado muchas cosas. Pero de todo, lo que más les agradezco es que me hayan permitido entrar en su casa y que me hayan ofrecido su amistad y su confianza.

Nació Andrea y me enamoré de ella. Está bien bonita y es muy divertida y te hace enojar (lo cual es divertido también, jeje). Ha sido muy bonito que me hayas permitido ayudarte a cuidarla aún y cuando no me dejé que me pusieras a cambiarle los pañales!!

He roto lámparas y toda clase de cosas en tu casa, y aún así me siguen aceptando.

Más que todo lo demás, quiero agradecerte, LInito, por aguantarme tantas cosas. Sé que no soy la persona mas agradable del mundo en ocasiones; sé que puedo llegar a ser muy difícil; sé que puedo ser a veces muy ruda.

Siento mucho haber perdido la paciencia contigo en más de una ocasión, pero es que a veces tienes la molesta tendencia a tener la razón, y me caes gorda. Pero luego se me olvida y me caes bien, no te preocupes.

Gracias por todo lo que has hecho por mí en estos 11 años, Lino. Gracias por estar ahí siempre que te he necesitado, gracias por no juzgarme en mis peores momentos, gracias por tratar de entenderme, gracias por todo tu apoyo, gracias por quererme.

No quería que se fuera este día sin decirte lo que significas para mí.

 

 

 

 

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Mis colmos

1. Que el teléfono de Gandhi suene como el de mi oficina.

2. Que cada vez que veo la barra inferior de Windows espero ver el sobrecito del Outlook.

3. Que cada vez que hablo por teléfono con alguien y oigo el timbrecito del Outlook digo: “ahí te hablan” pero secretamente veo la barrita inferior para ver que no sea a mí.

4. Que después de una larga semana si me toca salir temprano el viernes, las mamás de los escuincles digan indignadas:  “¿ qué, ya se va?”

5. Que las mencionadas mamás me digan “Señorita Paty”. ¿Para eso fui a la universidad?

6. Cuando les marco a mis papás de mi casa y marco primero con 9. Y luego maldigo el teléfono porque no marca.

7. Cuando suena el teléfono de mi casa y estoy a punto de contestar: “Supervisión Académica”.

8. Que los alumnos digan cosas como:

a) No falté porque yo quisiera, es que salí de vacaciones. ¿Me puedes justificar las faltas?

b) No fueron faltas, fue por viajes de negocios.

c) Es que ya falté dos veces y sólo me quedan dos faltas. ¿Qué tal si me enfermo?

d) No sé que me pasó hoy, ¿puedo volver a hacer el examen? o ¿no hay algo así como un examen extraordinario?

 

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How to be alone

HOW TO BE ALONE by Tanya Davis

If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you’ve not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren’t okay with it, then just wait. You’ll find it’s fine to be alone once you’re embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You’re not supposed to talk much anyway so it’s safe there.

There’s also the gym. If you’re shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in (guitar stroke).

And there’s public transportation, because we all gotta go places.

And there’s prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you’re hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation.

Start simple. Things you may have previously (electric guitar plucking) based on your avoid being alone principals.

The lunch counter. Where you will be surrounded by chow-downers. Employees who only have an hour and their spouses work across town and so they — like you — will be alone.

Resist the urge to hang out with your cell phone.

When you are comfortable with eat lunch and run, take yourself out for dinner. A restaurant with linen and silverware. You’re no less intriguing a person when you’re eating solo dessert to cleaning the whipped cream from the dish with your finger. In fact some people at full tables will wish they were where you were.

Go to the movies. Where it is dark and soothing. Alone in your seat amidst a fleeting community.
And then, take yourself out dancing to a club where no one knows you. Stand on the outside of the floor till the lights convince you more and more and the music shows you. Dance like no one’s watching…because, they’re probably not. And, if they are, assume it is with best of human intentions. The way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting. Dance until you’re sweating, and beads of perspiration remind you of life’s best things, down your back like a brook of blessings.

Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you.
Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets, there’re always statues to talk to and benches made for sitting give strangers a shared existence if only for a minute and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversations you get in by sitting alone on benches might’ve never happened had you not been there by yourself

Society is afraid of alonedom, like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements, like people must have problems if, after a while, nobody is dating them. but lonely is a freedom that breaths easy and weightless and lonely is healing if you make it.

You could stand, swathed by groups and mobs or hold hands with your partner, look both further and farther for the endless quest for company. But no one’s in your head and by the time you translate your thoughts, some essence of them may be lost or perhaps it is just kept.

Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school’s groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Cuz if you’re happy in your head than solitude is blessed and alone is okay.

It’s okay if no one believes like you. All experience is unique, no one has the same synapses, can’t think like you, for this be releived, keeps things interesting lifes magic things in reach.

And it doesn’t mean you’re not connected, that communitie’s not present, just take the perspective you get from being one person in one head and feel the effects of it. take silence and respect it. if you have an art that needs a practice, stop neglecting it. if your family doesn’t get you, or religious sect is not meant for you, don’t obsess about it.

you could be in an instant surrounded if you needed it
If your heart is bleeding make the best of it
There is heat in freezing, be a testament.

 

 

 

By poet/songwriter Tanya DAVIS, taken from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs&feature=related on October 2oth, 2010.

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Tarea 1

Se supone que tengo que escribir, durante esta semana, todo lo que siento por tí. Lo que sea, sean cosas buenas o malas, sentimientos dulces o amargos, cualquier pensamiento.

Pero ya casi ni pienso en ti, solo una vez, de hecho, una vez que a veces dura todo el día: cuando me despierto ahi estás frente a mí en ese lecho que compartimos. Me despierto, me baño, me visto y me voy a trabajar. En el camino pienso en tí, en las calles que caminamos tantas veces, algunas de la mano.

Paso todos los días frente al centro médico al que me llevaste porque estabas preocupado por mí. Paso por la farmacia a la que fuimos después, y por la esquina donde tomamos un taxi para regresar a trabajar. En ese taxi me miraste con deseo. Yo tenía ganas de llorar, por mí y por tu ausencia.

Sí fuiste bueno conmigo a veces. Cuando me llevaste al hospital por segunda vez. Recuerdo como me aferraba a tí para no caerme en el metro, mientras ponía todas mis fuerzas en no llorar. Tenía miedo pero quería alargar esos momentos para siempre. Momentos en los que podia estar junto a tí, donde nadie sabía quienes éramos y podíamos aparentar que estábamos juntos y que estar juntos estaba bien.

Luego paso por las calles que no significan nada entre tú y yo. En esas calles me doy cuenta de la única sobreviviente de nuestra historia soy yo. Tú moriste en el momento en que te fuiste, en el momento en que me escribiste ese mensaje de despedida, diciendo que volverías y gracias por todo.

Dios me libre de volver a vivir lo que viví cuando te fuiste. Que me libre de volver a estar en el fondo de un mar tormentoso y agitado del que no puedo salir. Que me libre de hundirme en un amor tan inmenso y tan dañino, que me libre de volver a tí.

Dios me libre de herir a alguien como lo hiciste tú conmigo. Que me libre de arrastrar el corazón de alguien en el lodo. Que me libre de pisotear un amor tan hermoso, que me libre de ser tan ciega que no pueda ver la luz en la vida y en los ojos de alguien más. Que me libre de ser egoísta. Que Dios me libre de ser tan cobarde como tú.

Sé que si te perdono, seré libre. Y dejaré libre a tu alma también.

Cuando llego a casa en la noche, me siento mejor, casi curada. Todos los días veo gente y situaciones que me hacen sentir renovada. Me siento satisfecha de haber sobrevivido y de poder darle la cara al sol una vez mas y ya no creer que no merezco verlo por la mañana. Me siento alegre de verme mas madura y fuerte, me siento orgullosa de poder verme en el espejo y poder volver a sonreírle a aquella que me mira.

Me siento cansada de tí. Me siento cansada de pensarte, de quererte, de desear encontrarme contigo en casa esquina del mundo. Cansada de saber que no pasará y sorprendida de darme cuenta de que en realidad me importa cada vez menos y que tengo cosas más importantes y más hermosas y útiles que hacer con mi vida que recordar que existes.

Ya no estoy tan segura de que el amor verdadero no muera jamás.

 

 

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to A, whom I thought to be my soul mate

To A, in the last days of my love for him.

This excerpt I found in a book I read between yesterday and today. And this is what I have discovered about myself and my love.

“Your problem is you don’t understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back , the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it. ” from Gilbert, Elizabeth. Eat Pray Love. Penguin, 2006 (p. 198)

I learnt so much from you. I learnt so much with you. I learnt so much in your eyes, in your kiss and in your body. I learnt so much from my tears and the devastating pain the loss of you brought to my heart. There are times when I feel I don’t have a heart any longer.

There were times when I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe again, that I wouldn’t survive to see the sun the next day, that the pain in my body would never cease. There were times when tears would pour out of me as if some tap had been opened and I was so small and weak to close it.

I was too small and too weak. But I have had to grow strong. I have defeated the waves of self-pity and cowardice. I have had to let go of you. I still dread to look at my broken heart. I’m still not strong enough to look.

I am afraid that if I look I will hate myself for letting you do this to me, to bring all this damage to me.

But I still think that our lives crossed for a reason. I don’t know if you learnt anything from me. I learnt from your touch, I learnt from your kisses. I learnt from your hands and your skin and your eyes. And I learnt from your cruel silence. I learnt about my love and about myself, about my beauty and my strength.

My beauty and my strength.

And I have to let you go. You filled me, over the brim. You destroyed me. You burned me. And you gave me life. God bless you for what you were in my life. For the door you opened to love and pain and fear, for you have made me human.
You taught me. You loved me. And you gave the woman to me.
The cycle’s complete, this love is finished. And I will love you forever.

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Concierto a dos voces

I can’t believe you did it again.

Did what?

You cried again.

I felt sad.

But surely, you should have learnt the lesson by now.

What lesson is that?

I don’t know, for one, you shouldn’t have expected him to love you. People can’t see who you are. Most of them don’t care. You spend too long living inside yourself, how can you tell what it is like on the outside? How do people see you?

Is that all?

Yes, to begin with.

I am tired of your cruelty. It’s worn out now, you know. Do you not fancy a bit of love?

Remember what it was like when we opened up? How our heart was broken?

But we learnt ho to love, that we are capable of loving.

What for? Loving has always been useless for us. I shouldn’t have listened to you.

But you did. Why did you?

Because I needed to be loved too.

Why did you let him walk away? We love him.

He left us. He went away. He thanked us and left. You gave him everything.

While you only closed your eyes.

I didn’t. I shut my mouth. You knew where it was heading. You knew that what was left from out heart would be broken.

You closed your eyes.

I did not. I did not let you enjoy it.

Why? It was love.

It was wrong. It was a lie. He felt nothing for us.

But he did. I saw it in his eyes.

Where is he now? He never tried to come back.

We hurt him.

He hurt us more.

We said goodbye to him and we still love him.

Oh please, understand thiss, once and for all: he doesn’t love us. He said it himself: he’s greedy and selfish. He’s weak. And his weakness was not leaving us.

He was never going to do it.

I don’t know hot to protect us any longer. I don’t know how to mend this heart. I am afraid. I don’t know if I should listen to you again. You let this happen to us. You let him steal everything we had.

I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I am so sorry.

Please, don’t cry anymore. Don’t hurt anymore. Please don’t hurt anymore. You always knew this would pass.  Trust me.

I know. “That went by, so can this”

Ðæs ofereode ðisses swa mæg

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“He wishes for the cloths of heaven”

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats, 1899

Te di mis sueños para que caminaras sobre ellos.

Te habría dado la seda marina del cielo estrellado.

Mentiste.

Las estrellas como trozos de vidrio me rasgaron la piel.

Me rasgaron el alma.

Ahora solo quedan tiras de alegría, enredadas con el mar revuelto,

con la espuma turbia del mar enfurecido por la tormenta.

Te di mis sueños para que caminaras sobre ellos.

Me devolviste sueños pisoteados.

Híbridos de pesadilla, burdamente cosidos con lágrimas,

desgarrados por las uñas del dolor.

¿Querías acaso la tela del universo?

¿Los diamantes solares engarzados en mi piel?

Los habrías arrancado como me arrancaste la alegría,

como me arrancaste el corazón y la fe.

¿Querías la luz de la mañana,

la luz ambarina de la aurora,

la sombra de la noche y la penumbra de mi habitación?

¿Querías el oro del sol chorreando plata sobre el río?

¿Para qué, si eres ciego?

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Reflexión

Pues en estos días han pasado cosas buenas. A ellas me aferro. En estos últimos días he tratado de deshacerme de lo que siempre he sido, consciente de que la historia que me he contado sobre mí misma no es toda la verdad.

Ahora empiezo a ver el otro lado de la moneda: no todo ha sido trágico ni doloroso, ni toda mi vida infeliz. No he estado siempre sola y merezco y valgo mucho más de lo que he creído siempre. Estoy viva y estoy bien. Sobreviví a lo que nunca creí que podría sobreponerme, y, aunque aún a veces me duele, me siento más entera. Sé que toda mi experiencia ahora me hace lo que soy.

Puedo leer más el dolor de la gente y el propio. Ahora sé que no estoy sola y que mi experiencia es universal.

Creo que puedo seguir adelante en esta travesía y que aún me faltan muchos sueños por cumplir y mucho amor que compartir. Tengo que ser más fuerte que aquello que me lastimó para salir adelante, para vivir mejor, para ser mejor persona.

Estoy aprendiendo a deslindarme de responsabilidades que no me corresponden. Cargar con todo no me hace mejor ni más grande. No me ayuda, ni ayuda a los demás a crecer.

Estoy cansada de ser infeliz y de creer que es mi destino en la vida serlo. No es cierto, y veo ahora que así como me contruí en algún momento aquella vida dramática, tengo la oportunidad de construirme una nueva, no exenta de obstáculos, pero sobre la que puedo decidir. Ningún error es para siempre. Siempre queda la oportunidad de levantarse y caminar, cada día es una nueva oportunidad de crecer y de retomar, de crear y de destruir lo que ya no sirve.

El amor me guiará. El amor a la vida, el amor a mí misma y el amor a los demás y de los demás.

Me comprometo conmigo porque soy todo lo que tengo. Y por eso soy para mí y para otros.

A new life starts today.