It’s been a while since you’ve been gone. Everyone says I should get over it, because it would not really work. And life does not wait, there is no button to pause and you can not return my love. How did I let it happen? I’ll write to you and take you out of my body. I think if you put everything on paper, there will be nothing left. I told you once, “I write to get the bad things out of me,” do you remember that? I still cry when it’s hard to endure things that I can not change and I can not understand. When you have so much to process that my head and my heart seem to explode. When your lack threatens the life I’ve struggled so hard to build. Right now my face is wet and some tears have wet the paper while I write this letter, even if you never read, I will write for you. This is my diary screaming.
I feel the interval of the jumps, I hear the wind that strikes the windows, I open them and I see nothing else. Love passes in an instant, a particular, heavy, vital temporal. I made a point of ignoring the losses, the deviations, the disappointments that always went hand in hand. Until it did not, and I did not realize it. Each passing day I miss more of these passing paths, the summer rain they call desire, love, affection, for which I gave myself (in depth) – until they drowned me. Storm that scares, breaks half said of things but irrigates the plantations, prepares the crops. The days were ruined so that they would come; expectations downhill, followed by unexpected happiness. I only feel that I have already enjoyed more, that I have loved more, and today I am less, surrounded by stories in half, lost in my own labyrinths. I wish I had been ideal, less self-centered, immune to the slaps of time, and whoever I had, and whoever I was. I’ve wanted it so badly that it’s almost banal now; because I complain about everything I’ve gone through, everything that still hurts, and if I could go back in time (hypocritical like myself) I would do it all over again.
Written by: Perina (@naoperina)
Translate by: @rascunhodraft
Alternating good days and bad days you follow.
You never know what it will be.
You want to believe that everything changes,
For the best
And he clings to it.
You sink down one more time, there are days it seems like you can not take it.
You’re just crying and crying.
You ask God to help you.
And imagine that your dead mother is there to help you.
With you on your lap doing some fun.
“Everything will be fine. You are strong. You’ve been through this before. ”
Everything will be fine.
You sob once more.
Yeah, We already have a year !!!
Today I see the great changes that have happened to me all this time. I remember that I started this blog because I wanted to speak the “language” of a person I liked very much and wanted to be heard by her. Nowadays all this does not make much sense, because although I have tried very hard to be much for this person, no effort of mine was recognized by her.
However, I have learned to express myself better and to express everything that hurts me. And I really like this universe.
I’ve shared many things with you and hearing what you have to say is very good. I remember one of the things I said to that same person: “I write about bad things to get them out of me, about the good things that I do not have so much urgency to write, because I want to prolong that feeling.” we talked about journals.
I have a notebook that I write when no words would make sense to another person, when the anguish is so great that I could not express myself coherently. So I write and cry and I get lighter.
The text “see you in the future” was the first one I wrote here that I reported what I was really feeling and it helped me to understand what was going on. Today, more than a year later, we are in the same moment, but the sensation is different. I am stronger, more determined, I know myself better and I understand what is good for me and I accept more easily that people should be left free.
Writing helped me understand this and see things as a whole and several comments from you have comforted me, put a smile on my face, as well as the texts that I have read of you.
I want to thank you for the followers and for the tanned ones in my blog. And I want to say that your comment makes all the difference, that I am very glad to come here and see people from different parts of the world commenting, sharing something nice with me, sympathizing with my experiences, I feel much lighter when Someone tells me that he has identified with something I said, that he agrees with me or that he thinks differently but that he respects my point of view and explains how he thinks (sometimes it makes me think differently). No doubt you make me feel better is like group therapy. I write to improve my mood to take something sad, distressing from within me and when you give me the opportunity to talk about it through the responses of the comments it makes a lot more sense to me. Many thanks to all of you who read, who respond, who comment, who like. I love talking to you and discovering other amazing people who write amazing things and feel that too. Thank you very much, for this one year of partnership, you have made me better in many moments and I hope I have helped someone as well.
A thousand Kisses.
Written by: Bruna Monteiro (@espalhepoesia)
Translate by: Rascunho-Draft
I read and reread our conversation about five times, I did not find the error, I do not know where I went wrong, it seemed to be okay, and the next moment you disappeared. I should already have expected that its standard is this, spectacular entries, with flowers and chocolates wearing the most beautiful smile and most foul of all, and soon after a meaningless end, like those films that end in the middle of the story, without giving a reasonable explanation, and who watches only asks: that’s it? This is you, and I know by heart, I know all its faults, I know the lies told, the ragged excuses that come later, but I confess that lately I have been surprised, because the excuses are increasingly scarce, giving way to the disturbing silence . I struggle once more in that instant to seek something in my memory that may have made you turn away, but again I can not find out. Our last meeting was amazing, the best sex we’ve ever had, I know that every time it’s better than the previous one, but last week was something that surpassed everything we’ve ever done, because I was sure, thinking that I would not leave his arms so soon, despite to have made it clear that he did not want to be in a hurry, and to have asked to take one step at a time, so that this time there would be no end. But you completely run away from any pattern, from any line of reasoning, you do not make sense, I sleep thinking that everything is fine and according to the twisted world. What was missing in this story? What is wrong with me? Is there anything in this life that will make you stay and quit games?