LETTER
TWO
JANUARY
4TH
Do
you remember when I used to sing your song Maria? You smiled with those
evergreen eyes of yours. Everyone was looking at you and you were only looking
at me. I never thought I could lose you, never imagined you could leave me to
sink with the ship.
It
is over, I know. You told me so “It is over”.
I
do not hate you, I always knew you were to fly higher and I’m just capable to
drag in the ground. Even if you don’t believe me, I knew it and I stayed
anyway. There were many that would have died just to hold your hand for a day,
you were too much, isn’t it?
Your
favor was a God given gift, I don’t doubt it. The best that ever happened to me
and ever will. You will see grow those
children that were almost mine, next to the man that you belong to, the man
that can provide you sun and earth for you to contemplate from you window.
Maybe in such splendors you would see some ugly bug and makes you think of
me. And think that only yesterday you
were smiling in my arms saying “I love you”. No, no, it wasn’t yesterday. Was a
year ago, no; three years ago, or maybe ten?
Am
no longer capable of measuring time Maria, I already forgot who I am and really
is.
Before
you nothing, none of nothing. Darkness and silence. I try to remember who was I, what I used to
think and what I felt but I can’t. I firmly believe I was born that summer
evening and I died when you jumped on that train.
I
no longer know if what’s left from me truly exists o am just imaging it, is
that my body hurts so bad, coffee has no taste and liquor does not burn. Am a
pile of dust waiting to be spread by the wind.
It’s
over, it’s over and I know, maybe if I say it again am able to believe it.
IT
IS OVER!
I
can’t help it Maria, your eyes, your smooth smile and the rosy skin are sharp
blades in my mind, my hands look for you in the darkness of night and fall in
the abyss of void. You’re with him, in a huge house, full of light and flowers
and he caress your silky hair with his damn soft hands to help you sleep. You
smile at him, you smile at him Maria!
And
am here, on my own with nothing.
Juan
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