Amor de mãe

Este ano serão completados 10 anos do dia de sua partida e eu continuo passando todos meses de Dezembro angustiada, como se ela tivesse acabado de morrer. Na verdade, Ivete Cotrim Ferraz Sanches se foi num dia de 2001 que me assombra até hoje.

Quando nasci ela era uma cabeleireira, saída de Saltinho, interiorzão do estado para uma cidade, ainda interiorana, um pouco maior, passando da simplicidade à classe média apenas confortável. Entregava a mim (e também à minha irmã) seu total sacrifício para que nada nos faltasse. Trabalhava como um louca para, junto com meu pai, pagar o colégio e todas as aulas extra-curriculares que tanto gostávamos. Sem dúvida, seu amor era incondicional. Todos os dias éramos acordadas ouvindo 'te amo, te adoro, te venero', bem como íamos dormir ouvindo as mesmas palavras.

Mãezinha (como era chamada por muitos) nos ensinou o que não estava nos livros - ética, gentilezas, sorrisos, a tratar as pessoas de forma carinhosa e com boas palavras, a ouvirmos boa música e que rímel, lápis nos olhos e blush, faz bem a toda mulher. 

Apesar de eu não ser tão empenhada aos estudos e aos instrumentos, como minha irmã, sempre que eu chegava com uma ideia maluca de aprender a tocar violão ou mesmo saxofone, ela me apoiava; mesmo sabendo que minha loucura sempre foi pelas bolas de futebol, handebol, basquete, bicicletas e skates...

Enfim, hoje não trago um texto triste. Só decidi compartilhar um ou outro detalhe da nossa riquíssima história. Pra te lembrar, meu amigo, que você, que ainda tem sua mãe por perto, carrega um tesouro ao seu lado. E lembrar a mim mesma, que mesmo não tendo mais mãezinha pra me coçar as costas, também carrego um tesouro, no meu peito, e tatuado em minha costela.

Amor de mãe. Tem explicação?

Continuar

A calmaria das manhãs sempre a acompanhava, era como se as luzes do sol do domingo de manhã fizessem parte de sua pele e quando era exposta a sua luz quase avermelhada projetava uma sombra tão grande que, quem olhasse, jamais poderia dizer que pertencia a um corpo tão pequeno.


Ela caminhava em passos decididos e firmes e tranquilos. Observava cada milímetro à sua frente: calçava sempre grandes saltos, e não queria arriscar vê-los presos em uma fresta. Jamais temia um tombo, já que todos os passos sempre foram firmes, temia era estragar o calçado, que a acompanhava para todos os lados. Trazia nos olhos o rímel preto e o lápis sempre marcado, olhos estes, cheios dos dias que passou longe, de chuvas e trovoadas, trazia a paisagem de lugares distantes e impensáveis, que talvez nunca estivera, olhos cheios de dissabores, mas com muito mais amores.


Em frente ao espelho, a princesa em sua torre solitária, anacrônica, agredia a paisagem ao mesmo tempo em que a tornava única, inigualável. Foi ela a responsável por tantas aventuras de infância, não só minhas, mas dos primos, quase meus irmãos, e dos tios, quase filhos dela... foi ela o argumento de tantas mães para convocar os filhos de volta para casa, foi - e ainda o é - a silenciosa guardiã de mistérios que confundem-se entre fantasia e ficção.

 **

A véspera de ano novo deixara a noite vazia, as pessoas histéricas, mas o cachorro, seu companheirinho, este não, estava calmo, fora do normal. Na visita olhávamo-la, enquanto enfermeiras caminhavam e sempre esticavam os olhos pro quarto, querendo saber como a ‘dona da luz’ estava aquele dia.

Já havia se despedido de todo mundo durante o ano que passara, e já havia avisado que aquele seria seu último, que sabia daquilo. Para aquela noite, ela havia preparado tudo, pensado em tudo. Convenceu-nos que deveríamos sair, nos divertir. Convenceu a tia que ela precisava descansar, que estava tudo bem. E fomos, e aceitamos, e acreditamos.

Ela era assim, inspirava segurança, confiança. E também se foi assim, segura e confiante.

**

Hoje à noite, enquanto caminhava, sentia vir a suave e gélida brisa e o cheiro de terra molhada, da chuva que se aproximava, do mato, e ouvia ao longe o canto de algum pássaro que, estranhamente, permanecia acordado. Revia muros e cercas, revia cores que eu sequer conhecia. Vinha dela, talvez?

Parei por um momento, segurei Joaquim e deixei meus pulmões serem invadidos pelo frescor da garoa, como se puxasse em minhas narinas a própria pureza da água que começava a cair do céu.

E era hora de voltar, enxugar os olhos e terminar a noite, para amanhã recomeçar.

... Continuar ...

When it happens

At a certain point in our lives, we are blessed with someone who we think will forever stay with us. We fight our hearts out to make the relationship work. Plans and goals that we have charted for ourselves when we were younger start to change and we start to envision a future with that special person. We miss drinking sessions so we could be with our special someone. We literally brave heavy rains just so we could make that movie date happen. We were happy doing all these until fate takes a turn and things start to change. You feel all drained and exhausted. Every single thing you do for your partner slowly becomes an effort. Appreciation is no longer felt. Things slowly fall apart. 

We get torn. We get broken. We get shattered. But things are bound to fall where they truly belong. If it’s meant to be lost, hearts will certainly break but you should also be forever thankful that someone like him came into your life. If the person stays, learn from the experience. If he worth holding on to, fighting for and living for, I see no reason why you should overwhelm yourself with the pain of the possibility of losing your partner. 

Remember: No storm can break two hearts that are meant to be together. If he is meant for you, trust the heavens that your other half will find her way back to you. And more importantly, do your part to make your relationship with your partner work. Love isn’t a one way thing. It takes two people in love to make a relationship work. If one falls out of love, live the pain but not for too long. Cupid’s arrow might miss you when it’s time to meet the right one. 

Hearts love. Hearts break. Hearts learn. When it’s time to love, give your all and regret nothing. When it’s time to let go, cherish memories but always make room for a greater love that’s bound to stay forever.

Today I think I found my way and the right one found me in the way. Today I feel blessed. And I'll fight for it. Just for today... and tomorrow I'll think this way too... living one day at a time. And I can do it because the one who is with me today allows me to think like this. I can live one day at a time, and I can feel all the emotions... with love.

Good bye

It's true. It was my fault going away. The fault is mine having let you in, sit and do whatever you wanted here. My fault look at love with those needy eyes, I end up fooling myself about what really is and what it seems to be. I am guilty of wanting too much and end up accepting - every time - the second best, the almost amazing, what gets first.

I am guilyt, I don't deny, but, I'm sorry, this time I wont be ALMOST happy, half complete.

Get my message. Leave, please, just as I did.

I took the first step, so, please, continue the way, 'cause mine is so clear now.

I'm just in love. I just can be myself as I trully am.

'Good bye my lover, good bye my friend'.

About the scars, about how really life is

Admit it. We all have scars that we’ve been concealing. Scars that kept us from doing what we’ve always wanted to do with our lives. There are the physical scars that kept us from wearing that beautiful, supposedly flattering dress. There are the pimple scars that need tons of concealers, the kind of scars your crush cannot and should not see. And there are the emotional scars that we’re trying to mask because we don’t want the world to see our weaknesses. Whatever our life stories are, we all have scars we’re too embarrassed to show the world. 

But scarred people are beautiful. Scars make us human. Scars make us beautifully flawed. Scars make our stories. Scars make us real.

So why feel embarrassed? Why keep it? No one’s made into perfection. We all have beautiful and triumphant stories to tell. People showing off perfect and flawless personalities scare me. Because they have nothing to share. They have nothing to prove to the world. Because they have a lousy life. And I don’t wanna spend my life with people living too-good-to-be-true lives because I will learn nothing from them. They don’t inspire me. The people who inspire me are those who’ve faced insurmountable hurdles. Because they have real stories and emotions to tell. Because they’ve been bruised yet learned from it and still see life’s magnificence. I love people who have laughed, cried, loved and lost. I love people who had their hearts broken yet managed to give more love. I love people who tripped, fell down, stepped up and rose for a better life. I love people with bruised egos because they learn to be humble. I love people with proud scars. Because they have lived life trying-to-be-perfect people have not. 

Life is a bitch at times but it is during these times that we are challenged. We are challenged to become better persons. We are challenged to become the best that we can be. And 10 years from now, when you look back you will thank your scars for it. You will appreciate the beauty of your scars. 

So just live life. Let it be. Love your scars. Show it to the world. Every life has a wonderful story behind it. Use it to inspire people and not to be embarrassed.

I have pimple scars to prove that I once lived a stressful life and patiently worked a job I never wanted to because I have a living to maintain. 

I have a heart that was broken into pieces and have been stitched countless times. And that just made more room for more love to give.

I have a life scarred with embarrassments, lousy decisions and immature actions. And it made me realize that life isn’t all bad. There are always lessons to be learned, experiences to cherish and moments worth telling to my grandchildren.

Scarred people are the most beautiful people. Don’t envy Ms. Barbie Doll because for all we know, she’s dealing with bigger problems than you do. 

So show your scars and be proud of them. They make them you. They show the beauty in you that perfection can never give.

What a madness

"With so much potential to end up with my life, do you know what he wants? To make me happy. What a disgrace. The young man wants to make me happy. And end up with the wonderful feeling of being miserable. And take away from me the only thing I can do right in life, which is suffering. Years of improvement and he wants to change the whole scheme. The young man wants to make me happy. What a madness, isn't it?" (From Tati Bernardi)

. DEFINITELY .

Searching for the right one is oftentimes what most people have been doing all their lives. How can I blame them? There’s an undefined rush in searching and searching and searching. In every new date comes a renewed hope that this person could be the one. For some, finding the right person comes easily. For others, searching becomes a painstaking process. They search hopefully only to get their hearts broken in the end. And I feel there is something amiss in this scenario. The searching just eats up most of the hopeless romantic’s time without knowing that he has already found what he has been searching for. It has been there all along. Waiting to be discovered, waiting to be felt. And this is even a sadder scenario. Some people search too much that they miss out on what could have been really right for them. They search too much that they miss out on the chance of becoming the right person for somebody. Yes, there is fun in searching. There is a high in every spark of hope of maybe finding the right one. But it’s more fun when you’re being with the right person. It’s a cliche, but I really believe in the old adage to just let love find you. Let fate do its work. That way, you won’t be overlooking a wonderful person that might just be the one. 

True, there are days when I feel there is something missing in my 'story'. There are days that could have been made better, days when we could have been more perfect for each other. I could have searched to find that missing piece. But I didn’t. Because I know that that missing piece can be filled one of these days. It’s a work in progress. I have stopped being too idealistic and eventually learned to love a moment at a time, a day at a time.

There’s  no time to waste. If you know you are with the right person already, be brave enough to stay. And save both your lives. 

When the time comes that you know you’re with the right person and be asked if s/he is already the one you want to spend your life with, I hope you will all have only one answer: DEFINITELY. No Maybe’s.

stayin' is harder

Every day, we are faced with minute life battles that fate requires us to face. Admit it, it’s not easy going through this life on our own. At certain points in our ironically mundane yet crazy lives, we are humbly on our knees begging the heavens to send us someone who will make us feel complete. Someone who will make us whole, someone with whom we could share half of life’s burdens with and someone whom we can spend forever with.


We all need a better half to be happily insane with. And when we find that person, things are no longer the same. Life suddenly takes a 360-degree turn. Priorities change, goals are re-aligned, decisions are influenced and dreams begin to consist of having a happy family.


Many people think that falling in love is the best feeling in the world. This is where (I guess) many people go wrong. It is staying in love that makes the best feeling in the world. Falling in love is easy. It is staying in love that requires a lot of effort. It is in staying in love despite imperfections, flaws and quirks that makes a relationship last. You fall in love because you like a lot of things about a person. You stay in love because you choose to. Love is not always a bed of roses. Relationships are tested by time, personalities, characters, differences, sweet times and bad times.


While destiny and fate would make up a good plot in any love story, it is a courageous choice that make up a good hero / heroine. Love is not all about random, cute and pretty things. It is not about taking your partner to a fancy dinner or showering her with gifts. Love is staying with your partner when things don’t go your way. It is holding your partner’s hands when the world begins crumbling down. It is hugging and kissing your partner when insecurities get in the way of the relationship. It is simply being at your partner’s side when harsh realities start sinking in and choosing to not let go.


I wouldn’t mind being constantly wooed by my partner. Hell, I’m the easiest person to please. I’m already happy with chocolates, sweet nothings or even just a cheap dinner date. But if the guy will choose to leave or abandon me when I’m at my most unlovable self, he can have somebody to give the chocolates to and spend dinner with. I don’t need to be showered with lavish gifts. I only need a guy who will choose to stay with me when things go rocky, a guy who would tell me I’m pretty even when there are pimples scattered all over my face, a guy who will love me at my worst state. In short, I need a real man. I’m sure you do, too. Because only a real man is capable of choosing to love you despite an ugly face, aura, mood, state of mind, situation and circumstance. And this is the only man who deserves your best self - a beautiful face, aura, mood, state of mind, situation and circumstance.


Out of the 6,000,000,000 people in the world, there is only one out there. If you haven’t met him / her yet, smile because you’re both gazing at the same sky. Promise me you won’t let go when your lives cross. Make the right choice. Hold on. Stay in love. Live a happy life together. Finding 1 out of the 6,000,000,000 people who gives meaning to your life and to your world is no easy task. So, please. Do yourself and the whole world a favor. Choose the right thing.

Nights like this

Nights like this give me good time to write a little bit. Nights that I cant sleep I dont know why. Nights I keep walking around, changing the channels on TV, surfing on some webpages... nights I really try to understad what is going on.

Some days i just wake up like this... electric, ‘turned on’... and I keep like that all day long... nonstoping speaking, working, etc. And these nights make me think about myself. Today I just realize some things inside of me have died, to reborn. And I’ve been saying around that the old me is lost and I’m not sure if I want to find it again. My life has been passing so fast since that day and the chance to solve my problems too. My inside problems.

Some people say I’m too angry, others say I’m too anxious and there are others that say i’m like a witch, or cold. All of them are right, but none of them know what really goes inside of me.

She knew it. Only my mom did. No one else could do it again, ‘till now. Not even my dad, or my sister or my first real love. All of them know me. Not as much as she knew.

And, it’s weird, but on the last few days I just walk everyday complete... feeling that everything is mine, everything is new, and now it makes me think that the loneliness is filled with something that I can’t explain. I thought I would never be able to feel like that again. 

I’m lying if I say I dont know your smelling anymore, that I don’t remember the fine lines on your face, and, for some reason I still will having my little legs entwined with other ones. I know I need some stops now, but I cant do it, and I stumble on my way back home. I bump with people I shouldnt, I kick obstacles ‘cause i’m to anxious to see them.

I just decided – dont know how – I stoped believing in everlasting love since I realized eternity is for those who have extra time, and MY life is too short. I want my bed empty in the morning because i’m full of me, but at night I want perfect curves, complete ones, me that i’m not ‘given’ to hugs, want someone who completes me with a perfect hug, more perfect than I could ever tues.

And if the sex is better, I wish I can have someone with the arms like yours. Someone who can love me the way you did in the beginning, remember? But a little deepier, more sensitive, more... boyfriend. I wish I can have someone with all your qualities - those I almost dont remember aymore - and none of your defects (...)

I turned away from you and now I send everyone away from me because I decided I want to be a highway, not a dead-end alley. One day, perhaps, someone who enjoys adrenalin, good songs and soccer comes here, near me, and starts covering my things with pictures of amazing places and people, writing me love letters. Maybe he can come and bring people to socialize in a colorful party, and then, without me knowing, I just close my highway with big trees and flexible gates, celebrating my new way.

A writer already says ‘when you open your arms to life, loves of death lose their place in the embrace’. So, I keep smiling, and you should too. Now I’m free, opened and looking at everything is around me. Our happiness would never be the same, today I see, as soon as your love is full of blockings and mine, of curiosity. I hope both of us can be happy. You exploring someone’s love and me… the life.  

Pólen

Ainda que sentir doa, prefiro fazê-lo a viver no meio, insatisfeita, domada, rodeada por palavras nocivas, de sentido dúbio e objeto atassalhador. 'No more' passos embalados um a um, indicando 'ande', 'coma', 'acorde'. Quero a estática (se é você quem me tira o sentido), quero a fome (se é você quem me alimenta), quero a insônia (se é você quem não me deixa dormir).

De tudo isso, quero que você entenda que se continuar a enxergar tudo como tem enxergado, vai acabar se encontrando lá na frente com tantas experiências (ou nem tantas, assim) reclamando todos os passos que você precisava ter dado e não deu. Quero muito que você veja que se não parar de olhar para os outros, nunca vai enxergar tudo o que pode e merece ser. Não use espelhos.

Não seja mais espectador da sua própria vida, perceba que ela é aquilo que a gente faz dela. Quero muito que você acredite que o tempo passa, mais vezes do que eu em seu Facebook, e que o remorso pode acompanhar todos os tantos dias de sua vida.

Acredite que não é suficiente conhecer os sentimentos, todos eles estão descritos no dicionário, você não precisa descrevê-los mais uma vez. Os tais precisam merecem ser vividos, ou 'at least' respeitados.

Te falo tanto de sentimentos, e tantas vezes. Em uma delas gostaria muito que você visse que o imaterial dura muito mais do que o carro do ano ou todas as tecnologias das quais você tanto discorre com paixão.

Somos muito mais do que só comer, dormir ou fazer sexo. Somos realizar, saber, construir. De dentro pra fora.

A vida te espera, 'gato'. Mas não espera pra sempre. E se ela passar por você, acredite, sua Ferrari não vai ser suficiente para persegui-la.

A vida já não me espera mais. Ela não precisa. Já a exerguei, quando entendi que dá muito trabalho catalogar as mágoas.

Parecem tantas palavras, né? E podem ser... às vezes preciso mesmo de tantas para dizer tão pouco. Por medo. Outras vezes são tão poucas as palavras, se não o silêncio, que faço minha propriedade, para dizer tão pouco. 

Who cares? 

O que eu precisava expor já foi feito, antes e muito melhor, por tantos que viveram e/ou vivem sentimentos como o que carrego aqui.

Nenhuma palavra vence a força da falta de atitude. Atitude meu rapaz.

Então cá estou, vivendo este inverno para que, um pouco mais a frente, possa enxergar o sol em algum céu, ou as estrelas numa noite agradável, deixando que sua luz caia sobre meu rosto e meus cabelos louros.

E, porque não, que algumas nuvens escuras venham até mim, para que, quando eu as notar, não me esqueça que por detrás delas há um céu.

E rumo a este céu preparo meu vôo.

E enquanto em terra, quando minhas estrelas chegarem, do meio da rua te acenarei e direi quão linda é a rosa que o 'petit prince' ainda cultiva. E te darei meu pólen. E esperarei que o fecunde.

About me

Lets do it.

I'm not as smart as i'd like to be, as pretty as we both would like and not so available as any star sign can imply. I have my days and the days that are mine. The most part of my hours is not mine, i think too much about what doesnt belong to me, but i produce when nobody expects. I live from passion, i feed myself from sighs, i run out of what life is. I wear masks that i dont know, but as much as i can, i walk naked of me. I dont pretend liking who i dislike, i dont pretend knowing what i dont know. I learned to be frank but not impolite: if you dont want to know what i think, dont ask.
 

Today i like some songs and tomorrow i cant handle most of them: things change, life changes, and i keep on dancing as its partner. Dont wait from me the same attitude i had before, about the same things. I woke up to some realities, i see so many others. I want you to me, but i wont wait the time it is necessary: new scenarios are always revealing themselves, day after day.

I think sleeping a lost of time. Dreaming is essential and you can do it awake.

I believe people are more important than things, no matter the thing a person offers. But not anyone: the most part of the ones i met is dispensable. The ones who remain, no way.

I still dont like movies. Stone me.

I prefer Kit Kat, dark chocolate, sweet wine, hot days and Smirnoff Ice. Would you like to lable me for this? Be my guest.

I dont know how to pretend i dont want somebody to show i want. This game i dont know how to play. I dont want to learn it. If you prefer like this, bet your chips in another.

I really liked "Wear Sunscreen". But i hate the fuss is made over it. I consider "The little prince" wonderful, but in my game of saying truth, i hate when people quote it indiscriminately. I listen to what i listen to, i think what i think, and i dont look for your approval. Is it okay for you?

Yes, i'm contradictory. Or not.

Oh, yes... how many lines are enough to sorround someone completely?

I'm tired of human being. I'm tired of being human. I want only to be, no matter what, and if necessary. Like this.

Thats, then, who i am. Thats what i am.

At least for now.

10 almoços não celebrados

Suspirei. A casa de veraneio, como assim gostava de chamar, parecia acanhada ao me receber. Já não tinha mais o mesmo cheiro de antes, já havia muitas outras coisas novas, as quais ela não colocaria se estivesse aqui.

Não há piscina, como assim preferia. Abri as janelas, depois de soltar as travas e pude ver cada um dos minúsculos grãos de poeira, que brilhavam em saudação sob a luz do final da tarde. Lembrei que as noites já não têm o carinho nas costas, o beijo e o “eu te amo, te adoro, te venero”. O futebol ou a corrida aos finais de semana são acompanhados só por mim, sem ela. Não há mais tapetes na sala, nem o brigadeirão que ela fazia.

Tentei encontrar o carinho, disse “eu te amo” várias vezes e fiz sozinha o famoso brigadeirão, mas nada mais é como antigamente.

Inspirei o cheiro de umidade e solidão, e percebi o óbvio: a vida não tem o mesmo curso para todos, e é preciso que haja aqueles que dão sentido ao que os outros fazem... são os que seguem solitários por toda jornada. Entendi que talvez algumas coisas não me estão reservadas, e que é essa aceitação que, enfim, poderia me dar a paz de espírito que me fora roubada há 9 anos, em meio ao turbilhão da adolescência.

10 dias das mães sem ela. Acendi as luzes, abri o vinho. Começaria agora.

Naquela noite

Acordou com o coração acelerado, peito apertado, encharcada em suor, enquanto o relógio marcava alguma hora perdida da madrugada e a TV exibia, para ninguém, "Corujão do Esporte".

Sentou-se no colchão (porque as camas ficaram para os casais, e sobrou-lhe o chão para dormir) e, de repente, sentiu-se invadida por todos os sons daquela cidade estranha (bonita, porém estranha)... alguém andando no quarto acima, o holofote da boate que insistia em ficar rodando, carros com risos altos e passos daqueles que estavam vagando por ali.

Apoiou a cabeça nas mãos, passou-as pelos cabelos; sentia escorrer pelos braços o suor tenso, sentia subir-lhe pela nuca o arrepio da ansiedade. Seus olhos queimavam como brasas vivas, enquanto avistava a bela noite, estrelada, calma, e ainda assim, sentia como se uma tempestade fosse anunciada, distante.

Doía-lhe a cabeça. Contraiu-se. Esticou os braços e agarrou as únicas pílulas que o médico lhe autorizara ingerir. Tomou tantas quantas pudesse, sem correr o risco de lhe fazer mal. Todas, num único gole d'água.

Ar. Precisava de ar. Tentou fechar os olhos e controlar a respiração, tentou imaginar-se em algum lugar verde, com vento soprando, com pequenas pétalas de flores se soltando e flutuando junto às borboletas, dia adentro.

Mas o coração não se aquietava. O dia viria. Ainda que lutasse, que não o quisesse, o dia viria.

Então, antes dele, vestiu os shorts e a blusinha surrada, enfiou os pés no confortável chinelo e saiu, evitando o elevador, decidiu ir pelas escadas, entregando-se aos suspiros da noite que, teimosa, parecia não ter fim.

Passou a guarita, desejou boa noite (sem resposta) e foi reto, sem rumo. Sem dar-se conta estava ali, beirando a praia, sozinha, naquela escuridão. Ela, que evitava as areias sempre que podia, decidiu sentar-se no deque e contemplar alguma coisa, coisa tal que sequer passava pela sua cabeça. O mar. A brisa. Até mesmo a areia.

E foi naquela noite que, depois de 1/4 de século, conseguiu entender o que se escondia na imensidão do que estava à sua frente; do que estava sob as areias sem os guarda sóis e as pessoas, e as bolas, e as crianças e o monte de carrinhos disto e daquilo.

E entendeu que gostava, sim, daquilo tudo, mas que somente conseguia captar a riqueza daquela natureza se estivesse daquele jeito, aflita, sem saber o porque. Só conseguiria desfrutar de toda aquela magia se estivesse olhando pra dentro de si, sem pensar em ninguém nem em nada.

E foi naquela noite que, não mais aversa, agora descalça, andou pela areia, onde o estrondo do mar lhe convidava, parecendo a única coisa, no meio de todo o turbilhão de sentimentos, que fazia algum sentido.

Sob o forte vento da praia, ergueu as mãos, segurou os cabelos, fechou os olhos, sorriu seu melhor sorriso e entendeu que estava de volta ao recomeço.

Naquela noite, a menina que pensava ser feliz somente com pessoas ao seu redor, se tornou a mulher que podia, entendendo-se a si mesma, se bastar.

Naquela noite, sobre as areias da praia.

My choice

You were slowly going out of my life, and now I need an immediate solace. I don't know if I miss you 'coz I don't know what I feel anymore. You took away from me anything that was ours and took away from me everything that was mine, you took me out of my way, out of my zone, out of my route. You took me out of where I was, took me away from anywhere you thought I didn't fit and I was just accepting, going, being taken of from there to here, any moment, wandering through life without needing.

You were mine for so long that I'm scared to allow hurting everything that has to hurt. And you were mine for so long that sometimes looks like everything was wasted between us, 'til the pain.

You knew me a girl and watched me turning in woman. You read all of my texts about other people, other pains, you were there all the moments of my life when I thought only your approval was important. You saw in me my shattered sadness and told me so many times that you were the glue which was hold my castle of dreams stood up. But, later, you rode on top of my dreams, blocking any view I could have for them, making me think that over the rainbow of your smile there was nothing else to be found.

You saw in me qualities that nobody, 'til then, had had the sensitivity to find, you knew my good morning and good night eyes, my hapiness eyes, my missing ones, the sadness ones... You knew my mouth that compresses when life disagrees with me and I don't have other choice but tie my crying on the nose. You allowed me to see yourself under the armor that the people know, you lay down with me in so many places that your heavy leg, that blocked my blood every single night, became my leg too, and then, after a while, not even my blood mind having it's destiny blocked by you.

You loved me so much that, even not being able to love me completely, you didn't want to let me go and you were killing our love little by little, using against me all the things that, one day, were all the things I could offer as charming to you. You pulled all my limits and made me discover parts of myself that I didn't know they were there, you brought the best and worst, brought that butterfly feelings.

You were truly mine, were mine with everything, were mine day and night for all these days we shared. For all these years, I lived more you then myself. Everyday I woke up in the morning I needed to know what you were needing, even before I could remember that I was also a person and need things, too.

I walked away because, even if I tried, cried, prayed, whised, begged, begged lowered, kneel down, scremed, whispered and thought, I realized my need of you would never be met, because, in some way that until now I don't know, you stole me from myself and my serach was endless because it was not accurate.

And for the first time, in so many years, I understood that I was needing me, not you.

And even while I get down on my knees and gather the pieces of me, I can't deny that many of them are completely yours. We messed ourselves so much that only Alanis' songs could explain my feeling of having my head over feet. You are always going to be part of what is inside me and, even with skeptical eyes, all beautiful we had will never change.

"Only love is not enough", we repeated that so many times. And I needed not to see you in my life anymore, this way I could try to start any phrase, any conversation, any thought and any text with any other word that wasn't YOU.

And my old speech (that is yours) would be said with your tone of voice (which I know all tones) that for me, our love is a bunch of  exaggerated experiences to turn, in the end, a beautifl text.

I, however, disagree. For me our love was true and it's a shame it ended this way, gathered in a bunch of sad words on the floor, with no glue.

My castle collapsed and I chose to rebuild my world without you. By choice, not by lack of love.

And now I've got to tell you, I've been living softly and I've been discovering myself, with other people, and I've allowed myself to be loved, to be wooed. And I'm getting happier and happier. And I wish you can find your happines. Alone. 'Cause now, I don't feel responsible for it anymore.

As Muhammad Ali said " I know where I'm going and I know the truth, and I don't have to be what you want me to be. I'm free to be what I want".

About the shells, the pearls and memories

All loves are empty shells, all hearts are broken one day. But, when we find someone to lay on our side and count stars with us, it's like a pearl sprung inside the shell and made us forget about dark and lonely. I know you're afraid and I also am, but life came to be lived and if one day someone steals your pearl, you must have a certainty: you won't die and when you less expect, another pearl springs.
Our love is stupid, but it's good. Those who chose to hide from it for security don't hurt themselves, it's a fact, but also never count stars at dawn nor, in the end of life, have a necklace of memories to tell.

Inadequate

January 1st, 05h00 a.m.

Look at the time.

Was this my gift?

An insomnia and an uneasy stomach, taking the pains of my heart that refuses to go through this again. The fear of facing a "new year" not so happy, of facing a "new year" not so easy, of facing a "new year" with no love.

I'm sorry, my dear, it's not your choice. Wine and pillows on hand: Here we go.

Between a sob and another, there is always a break for breathing.

Wish ME a happy 2011.