New eyes.

Dearest Deer,

 Things have changed, it's weird. For the better.
It's nothing to do with your absence, which I resent. I had no opportunity to talk to you after the party, with dim and poor lights, I barely noticed you had left. I did, however, receive your letter the next day. Thank you for your oh so kind "Had to leave. Sorry." note. Very classy indeed.

Anyways, I did stay until late hours in the party and let me tell you, it got better in time. I saw so many things. People were so drunk, drinks spilling everywhere, silent and loud confessions of all kinds. Hatred, jealousy, love, anger... desire, envy. I may have been target of a few comments but dear, all I could do was laugh!
I do wish you had stayed but I understand, you can't.
I realize my inner strength, although it seems like yesterday when I felt so weak.

I haven't called you, even though I wanted to. I won't, if you wanted to know. You're free, chain less. Perhaps your eyes have stopped glistening but mine... it is so different from this side of the ocean. Things have changed. I am happier. Enthusiast, optimistic... words I barely believed in. I wish you could see but it is so sad to hear you're slowly growing blind. If you ever stop seeing, even enough to read this letter I know your people will help you, read it out loud for you.

I hope you are well and if you're feeling poorly, I hope someone will come across and help you. We are never alone, you see? It took me so long to understand.
Happy times lie not even ahead, but right here. With us, among us. If only you'll let them sail you away. I will, with the new pair of eyes I've got.
I hope you never give up yours.

Morir por siempre.

Hoy, al desayunar, nuevamente fuiste tema de conversación. Escuchar algo tan común como tu nombre de labios de otro me tomo desprevenida.

Hace tiempo que no pienso en ti de esa manera. 

Pretextos. ¿Acaso son necesarios los pretextos? No. No muero sin ti. No moriré por qué jamás te tuve. Jamás te tendré. Y está bien. 

Lo juro, ahora si. 

Temporalmente eclipsaste mi mundo, iluminaste todo con un color diferente, como un lente que cubrió mi cámara, mi visión pero ya no es necesario desgastarme. 

Hace días deje el lente detrás y ya no quiero ver más por él. 

Siempre has sido libre y yo también, desde hace un tiempo nos queremos y te quiero también. Sin más, sin más. 

No vuelvas a mi desayuno, no fingas más que eres mi futuro, no me hagas promesas que levanten el polvo y desaten el caos. 

200.

¿Cómo es que las cosas nunca pueden estar en su mejor punto y mantenerse allí? Arriba, cerca del cielo, cerca del sol.
De día, todo se ve hermoso, despejado y alcanzo a ver las lejanías. Parece infinito, eterno y de alguna forma, mío. Pero no siempre es de día y en algún momento, el sol desaparece.
Y queda la sombra, la soledad, la oscuridad.

Yo solía gustar de la noche, me gustaba no poder distinguir nada en la oscuridad. De pie, con mis manos estiradas frente a mis ojos e inalcanzables a mi pobre vista. No tenía que enfrentarme a lo que no veía.
Y vivía con el corazón en un hilo, temeroso. Al menos me mantenía alerta, viva.
Ahora no. Existe el sol, cegador con su brillo, con su calor. Cuando hace calor, cuando disfruto la suave, apenas perceptible brisa acompañando el calor, temo por el frío que vendrá en la noche; el frío ataca, sin sentido, sin piedad.
¿Qué me has hecho? Te acercaste sin aparecerte en el espejo retrovisar, sin anunciarte, sin campanas ni desfiles, en silencio. Para cuando creí, calculé que llegabas... estabas ya a mi lado.
Y yo había pasado por desapercibido ese último momento en que te puedes salvar. No existen las salidas, solo un eterno laberinto sin fin, cuyo único comfort es que quizá en la próxima esquina, quizá la próxima cerrada, será mejor que la anterior.
Ahora estoy condenada a vivir corriendo, aunque solía detestarlo. Corre, corre porque has olvidado ya como detenerte y, ¿qué implica el detenerse?
Perderlo. Perder todo.

Be mine. Candy Heart.

I'm tired, exhausted. I no longer need to close my eyes to sleep, to dream but I need to in order to rest.
And I don't want to go to sleep without looking into your eyes.

Link.

I don't want to fight any longer, not against you. However, I can't quite easily give up fighting for you.
I am sick, and confused. You've made a mess of my mind but I'm afraid there's no cure for your illness. I am host of the most powerful virus, you.

I know your vision of the world and am flattered to know you find my special from the crowd.
It hasn't exactly been said by your mouth but I've known, all this time.
What else is there out there? When in your eyes, I'm pretty, I'm bright.
You make me shine, you make me smile and all I need is you tonight.

I'll keep fighting. I won't give up.
If your feelings for her were real, you wouldn't have kept it all this time.
So let me try, let me try.
Put your lips next, close to mine's.
All there is, right here, right now
is you and me, lover's in the night.

(A weird diary-poem-song; for you, my love.)

Noveau.

No comprendo.
Huh, para ser honesta, jamás te he comprendido.
Y ahora menos.

He alcanzado ese punto que desde el principio temí pisar. La cima de la montaña, la vista perfecta de lo que creía paraíso.
Los resultados son poco agradables. Los frondosos árboles se han derrumbado, los extensos campos de flores ya se han marchitado, el mar cuyo sonido antes escuchaba se ve demasiado lejos y oscuro, turbio y perturbador, hasta un punto aterrador.
Todo lo haces tú. He dejado de escuchar tu dulce voz murmurar canciones, dejaste de escribirle poemas al cielo azul, al espumoso oleaje.  Dejaste de convencerme de que sentía la brisa y la sal, que ahora descubro como hormigas reinas, rojas, enfurecidas sobre mi ardiente piel.

Entonces con firmeza las sacudo y con una última, triste mirada a aquella tierra, me despido. Te beso las dos mejillas de ser necesario y renuncio a todo, aceptando de brazos abiertos tu silencio.
Tu ausencia, tu desaparición.

Support.

"Who are you?" I ask in silence, staring to him, through him.
He looks at me with that beautiful smile I love slowly fading on his lips. "What?"
I stay quiet and turn around.
"Well, it isn't my fault you're... you're... moody! That is."
"Huh. I am moody? I cannot believe you said that."
"But it is true. You're... angry at me for no reason or you're angry and taking it out with me! You shouldn't. I can help you."
I close my eyes in deep disbelief. I couldn't hold on tighter to my first question, who-was-he?
"You can help me by listening and understanding that I haven't been and am not angry. I am not angry."
"Well then you've had a bad day and you're blaming me about it."
I turn around, in sudden anger.
"It is not fair! Yes. I believe that it isn't" My voice went up a few levels and I make the best effort to keep myself calm. "You're... you haven't been fair to me. You know I'm worried and nervous... there has not been a day since the beginning of the year that I don't freak at some time of the day. I freak and panic and worry. I do. I will, but you don't understand that. And you say nothing! But I am pretty sure you think I am stupid for wasting so much... mind, time on that! I can't think of anything else. It's my future in the line even if you don't like it or don't care."

I wish you helped.
I wish you believed in me a little bit more.
And I wish I wasn't as selfish to wish for that.

Shadows.

I think the main problem is that no matter how much I try, I keep remembering.
I remember how it slowly got darker and darker. How you smiled and played with me, making me laugh, making me scream. How you took me into your arms and turned the world around.
And how you were there for me. How you still are, sometimes.
How you kindly offered, without knowing it meant so much, and helped me face a weird kind of fear.

And the problem is, I remember us walking. Nearly running, side by side, a little chat. How you offered your arm to me and I took it. And you kept walking and so did I.
And then we found what we were looking for and we came back. And all I could think of was that you were there. Or I wish that had been all I could think of.
Trouble is, it wasn't. It was in my head, somewhere, buzzing around. Still, not strong enough. And I remember but the memory is hardly what is should be. It's not special, it's not magical. It just was. It was nice. It is nice to the day.

Is that all? Will we remain forever nice and never magical? Never special.
At least I believe so because you keep doing things without knowing that it means so much.