L'art et le plaisir

Here you are spitting words again. Right now, at this very moment, you believe those tears have names underneath them; but the truth is that even if you wanted them to have names and faces cling onto it, they do not. You do not see it very clearly but here you are crying about everything you have not cried before. This is for the 69 days under lock down. The trip that got cancelled. The men on white scrubs that you do not flirt with anymore when they ask your name. The hugs you gave every day at 6 pm at the same spot with the same person. The charming smiles and your friends wondering when will you stop being that flirtatious. You are not crying because a guy did not reply to an email, or a text. You are not crying because of him, or any other guy you had the pleasure to encounter in your life, you are crying because of you: because you made a mistake again by being yourself, the most you you could possibly be. You are crying because you stopped replying to the only guy who yo...

I keep looking at the screen that shows an empty window chat with the guy I used to love until I didn't anymore. I wish, so bad, to be in love with him again. To keep attached to him so I can't leave. I can't go out and meet anyone else. I can't feel anything beside him. I keep crying and I can't even put it in words and all of the sudden something aches and I can't even breathe.  I want to call you and spit all the things out, but I don't even know what to say, because I don't even know what I feel. I don't even trust my feelings. You always appreciated the way I love someone because it's the purest way of loving a person. You said that both you and me have a similar way of feeling things. I always hated the way I care so deeply and feel so much, so intense. I always hated to know I am one of the weakest women on Earth. I always hated how profoundly things touch me and how they always cause some sort of reaction in me, even if it is the...

part of me writes because there is nothing else i could do. part of me writes in english because I have been taught that's the way I would feel I am not talking about feelings. but i am. there was a moment in time where things were good and then they just crashed. all of them at the same time. i was the valid and vividly representation of the butterfly effect. all the aspects related to me simply went bad and somehow most of them seemed out of my reach to be solved and i could do nothing about them, except wait. - there were nights, constant and repeatedly nights, where my body and my head asked for help. i felt i needed therapy again and i was not mad about it, i loved therapy - but therapy was the great reminder that something was not right and i needed to fix it. sincerely, too many things needed therapy and i was not able to seek for help to all of them. i was aware that university was the only environment that could postpone my feelings and mitigate them until i came b...

La primera vez que me rompieron el corazón hice todo aquello que nunca debe hacerse, y me refugié en los peores rincones con el fin de detener un dolor que en vez de permitirme sentir, decidí ahogar. Los primeros meses duré inconsciente lo suficiente para no dejarme a mí misma sanar, porque sanar implicaba seguir y olvidar y lo que menos quería era olvidarlo. Corrí a los brazos de mucha gente, y muchas cosas, sabiendo que al final ninguna de ellas me satisfacía; hasta que al final y después de mucho tiempo, viví lo que debía vivir y sané lo que debía sanar.  Tres años después me topé con quién creía sería una bocana de aire fresco y resulté ahogándome. Viví un dolor distinto. Me permití a mí misma sentirlo, no lo ahogué en alcohol ni pretendí evadirlo. Esta vez, y distinta a la anterior, pocos tenían la más mínima idea de lo que sucedía. No lo lloré después de varias copas de vino, ni tomé mi teléfono para hacer llamadas de las que me arrepentiría al despertar. Lo viví muy pur...

I used to think I was deeply in love with you when I was thirteen and you were seventeen and I used to think all those nights over the phone or the window chat were the perfect way for you to show me how deeply you felt me as well. I used to think our love was one of those people write about, saying first love is pure and magical. And I am twenty-one now and I know I was not in love with you but I believed so. I did not love you, but I do know now that I admire you, I admire your strenght and resilience. I admire how well we both pretended to love each other. And I am writing this now with an ache in my heart because it has been years since I did not even thought about your lips or your pale face or how you always used a hat but last night you were all over my head and I remembered so clearly, so vividly, so painfully the way we did not used to love each other. And I saw it: how you touched me without even touching me, and how you kissed my whole body from head to toes, ho...

Esta mañana vi todo el amanecer mientras la ansiedad me despertaba antes de que la alarma a tu lado sonara para que yo me levantase. Vi al sol salir mientras sentía tu respiración bien cerquita y tus brazos me rodeaban entera y pensaba cómo en el mundo llegué hasta ahí. Me dediqué a acariciarte los hombros, el cuello y tu barba. Los hombros y el cuello porque tenías la tez fría. La barba sólo porque sí. Escuché la alarma y me rodé encima tuyo para apagarla y darte un beso, irónicamente, de buenas noches. Debí irme porque era lo correcto, pero me quedé porque era lo que quería. La gente tilda la forma en que nos conocimos como insólita. A ti te toman por vivo, a mí por puta. ¿Quién se va con un desconocido la noche justa a conocerle? Le puedes decir a la gente que me importa una mísera mierda. Cambiaría treinta de mis conocidos y varios de mis polvos por irme contigo de nuevo otra noche. Siendo la sentimentalista y sensible que soy no podría desaprovechar todo el material q...