sábado, abril 9

The devil.

Things weren't that bad at first.
Every night the devil would come and sing me a lullaby.
Every night I would stare into his eyes and see how his mouth moved when he said "I love you"
I'd always hold my breath whenever I felt him near me.
To the point of almost physically feel rage flowing through my veins at the thought of his existance.
But, once again, things weren't that bad just yet.

Much later the devil started to like screaming.
Screaming and hitting.
Screaming and hitting and making others cry.
Screaming against a pillow until my voice hoarse to let it all out.
That was my way to let anger go.
Always asking him to stop. But he did not.
But, once again, things weren't that bad just yet.

By the time I was six, the devil had a break down.
I remember getting into the car and rushing down to hospital.
I was just looking around, not really sure of what was going on.
It was not a regular hospital, where you see sick people.
Sick people looks alive.
In this hospital, patients didn't have a soul.
Empty eyes. Silent halls. White uniforms. Phone rings.
But, once again, things weren't that bad just yet.

The devil took a vacation.
A few weeks later he came back.
He had a sparkle in his eyes. But some cuts on his wrists.
I asked him how he got them, but he didn't really tell me.
He seemed happy.
I once heard him say that he had found reasons to live again.
I guess that's a good thing, isn't it?
But, once again, things weren't that bad just yet.

The day I turned ten the devil was mad at me for some reason.
He forgot my birthday and, that night he came home and screamed at me and tried to hit me.
But something stopped him.
He fell to the floor and started crying.
I don't want people to cry.
I don't want people to cry on my birthday.
But things weren't that bad just yet.

By the time I was thirteen, the devil and I didn't really talked anymore.
He was too busy with work.
I was too busy doing nothing.
I used to think I loved the devil,
but one day realised you don't love your family because they are your family,
but because they have earned you affection.
He used to shout at me, asking me for respect.
But I don't respect liars. Even less whe you lie to my face.
But once again, things weren't that bad just yet.

By the time I was fifteen, the devil and I, well… We would fight a lot.
He would shout and scream and say things that didn’t really make sense to me.
Until that night, when I was reading Fitzgerald, he came into my room
I’m leaving because I love myself enough not to try to love you.
Well, you know what, devil? I never forgot that night, or that book.
Or your hurtful words,
Or what you did to me and the rest of us,

But one day, I decided to kill the devil.
He was sleeping, I came close, and whispered in his ear
I love you, mom
He died instantly. 

What I wish someone had told me that night at 3:27 am

Honey, do not settle. Do not accept less than your deserve because your worth is upon the highest of stars and you should not take your own value for granted.
If he really loves you, you will notice.
You won't have a single doubt,
You won't cry alone after an argument in which he is not willing to giving in,
You will feel caressed without touch and words will gently take care of those wounds that have followed you like your shadow,
You will feel important and relevant,
You will have a time and a place in every opportunity he finds,
You will feel like the walls of a museum. He will look straight at you with the warmth of a million suns while reading your soul,
You will feel like the only woman in the room. His eyes will lock on .
You will feel like your voice is the most melodic sound that he has ever listened to,
You will feel like no one could ever make you become such a good version of yourself,
You will feel like you have the best person to turn to when you need an advice (and he's going to be right),
You won't feel like a lonely wanderer anymore because you will have someone to share the road with,
You will feel stars and galaxies being created at the feeling of his skin touching your skin, even if it's just a slight touch of hands,
You will feel his pride when he talks about you. With family, friends and random people he just met,
And, most importantly, you won't ever feel like living on a constant lie.

I took me a while to realize that love is an universal energy that moves us and this means that we share certain patterns when it comes to loving someone. This is important: It must be real, it must be sincere.
He can repeat himself a thousand times, not stopping once, and that wouldn't make it true.
It doesn't matter what he says to you when he is trying to win your heart, it doesn't matter how he acts at the begging. You just wait.
Wait until the honeymoon phase is over and you can clearly see that raw, ugly part of himself.
By then, you should already have him figured out a little bit.
Take a close look of him in each situation. Remember, always remember, the importance of attitude and gratitude.
Go be yourself and let go of that weight that is not letting you continue.

You are amazing, girl. Please, don't you ever forget that.

jueves, marzo 31

bitácora #1. 31/3/2016

Es mejor una frase sincera que un mar de palabras que ahogan su propia veracidad.


Es mejor un pequeño momento que meses y meses de vacía desesperación.


Es mejor ese nuevo perfecto desconocido que quién, a pesar del tiempo y supuesta la cercanía, aún permanece siendo un extraño, alguien ajeno.


Descubre la alegría que trae consigo mostrar vulnerabilidad a la persona adecuada.


Sé leal a ti misma. Avergonzarse de uno mismo es crear una cárcel dentro de sí, sólo para mostrar aquello que no es, que no se siente y que no se piensa.