La hora de la cena

Se ha pasado la hora de la cena. Se ha pasado el tiempo que siempre le había dedicado. En un inicio, siempre estaba ahí para platicarle sobre su día. Desesperada, no entiende que pasa. ¿Amé demasiado? ¿Amé muy poco? A veces quisiera poder decirle la verdad. Sentarme con ella a tomar el té y decirle por qué. Me gustaría mirarla a los ojos y contarle, con el corazón en la mano, por qué no llega a la hora de la cena. Nunca he sido de las personas que habla claramente. Nunca he dicho realmente que siento. Ella si. Ella le dice cuanto lo ama, cuanto lo extraña y cuanto está dispuesta a dejar por él. Ella dejó todo atrás. Dejó su independencia, sus tacones, sus días de fiesta. También se deshizo de todas esas cosas que a él no le gustan y se llenó de lo que él adora. Encontró espacio para guardar todos esas cosas que una vez amó y cerró las gavetas. No miró atrás. Lo amaba. Lo ama. Él intentó hacer la mitad de lo que ella hizo por él. De verdad, lo vi intentar una y otra vez no desear que ella fuera diferente. Quería amarla por quien era y como era. Por un momento, breve, lo logró. Esos días, siempre llegaba a la hora de la cena.  La gente cambia. El instinto más escondido siempre regresa. Las cosas que nunca dejas salir son las que terminan rompiendo esa persona que construyes para el resto del mundo. Si tan sólo pudiera decirle que, de verdad, intentó no amarme. No hubo manera de no encontrarnos. Algo debía pasar. Disfrazados, comenzamos a jugar. No pasa nada cuando no dices nada. Cuando no hay quien si quiera susurre un nombre, esa persona no existe. Así jugamos, a no decir, a no verbalizar lo que pasaba y a no recordar nada. Hasta que un día, a la hora de la cena, decidío decir lo que pasaba. Me lo dijo y de pronto, me di cuenta de lo que hacía. Me di cuenta que jamás cambiaría para ser esa mujer que él esperaba. ¿Por qué no lo amaba como ella? ¿Por qué me le había metido hasta los huesos? ¿Por qué no lo necesitaba? Me pidió que lo amara. Me pidió que dejara caer las barreras que he construido y le enseñara realmente quien soy. Mañana, estará con ella, a la hora de la cena.

A bad day

Most of the time, I can live normally. Every day, I think less and less about you. Somedays, the good days, I don't have a single thought regarding you. Those days, I actually think I can love again. Those goods days make me say yes to dates and talk to people. I even let them tell me things I only let myself hear from you. These good days are becoming more and more common. I'm starting to have more good days than bad ones. 

Today was not a good day. Today, I thought of how much I miss your lips. I remembered you how my heart trembled with just the sight of you. Oh, no, it was not a good day. I kept hearing your voice. I kept feeling your hands on me. I kept feeling my skin crawl because of your absence. 

Then you came. Like you always do. You made me remember why I can't think of being with someone else. You made me realize why I am so confused, so broken. 

I thought I was letting you go. I even made a statement out of it. I had this thing confusing me, and I thought I was finally getting rid of you and feeling for someone else. 

Then you looked at me. It is like you never left. I continue to ignore what keeps me from getting back to you. Just this moment. Please don't take that away from me. 

My ego was bruised and you came back to fix it. You made sure no else had that kind of power over me. You just make it better by making it worse. You heal me to leave me, once again, in the highest tower. Today, it's ok for me to have a bad day. Today, I need to remember you by and think of you. Because you did hurt me. You made me remember what it feels to be hurt, not bruised. You bring back all this darkness and loneliness. You make me realize I can't cry for someone else because you used up all the tears I had. 

I have been hurt by you. Nobody else can touch me. Nobody else can make me tremble with anger, despair, and love. I thought I was getting rid of you. I guess today its OK to hold on just a little stronger. 

Feeling unwanted and crazy is just not pretty. I've been that kind of girl too many times. These thoughts, this darknes after you said you never meant to hurt me, have rushed back in. I've been trying to let go of that hurt I went through after you said goodbye. That pain after you came back and made me think I was imagining things. It all came back. 

I did it again. I was the crazy one again. I was the one that thought was important for someone who just was not as invested. I hate myself when I become that person. I am not used to it. You had taught me well. You had made me this impenetrable bitch that no one could ever touch. 

I let my guard down because I thought I had all those things I had with you. I had even more. I had some more things that made me think I was important or wanted. 

I am still that nice girl no one wants to hurt. I am still this pathetic toy no one ever wanted to break but played incesantly with. I hate that girl. I hate being the nice little girl people find smart and funny. It sucks to be the one they feel bad after hurting. I hate people trying to make it all right afterwards. I hate being pittied. I hate being thought as fragile. I've been through so much crap they have no idea. They still think I need protection.. 

I do not work well as a victim. It makes all my darkeness take over. All these twisted thoughts come flooding back in. I am too special, I am too nice, I am not what you wanted, what he wants. Why can't you just man up and say it? Why do you have to feel like a good person after you've used someone? Be a fucking man about it an accept it. "I thought this was just us playing", "I thought you just wanted sex", "I am not interested, thank you". Be the fucking jerk you are and get it over with. Step down from your high horse, I do not need saving. 

I don't do well as a victim. I don't do well as a poor little girl who needs protection because she's too emotional. I don't want it. I don't need it. I hope people would just stop trying to not hurt me. Pretending to care, when you actually don't, is far more hurtful. I do not need protecting. I don't want it. Go pitty some other girl who actually wants to be protected. 

Potential

You drive me crazy. You have all this potential. You apparently have no idea you are totally the kind of man I could fall in love with. This, drives me mad crazy. I wish I could be this open book. I wish I had no fears and no darkness. I have even thought that you don't like me because of that. I think it is mainly because of this craziness you don't seem to stop talking to me. 

I'd like to think I have a strange power that just draws you to me. I think you are just amused by me. I am weird and funny and you are bored. However, I see the darkness too. I see you are not quite as composed as you portray yourself to be. I like that. 

I have this crazy idea where I truly believe our demons could play very well together. They could play in a way people warn us demons should not play. But I like that. I honestly do like the possibility of burning. I have never wanted a dull life. You have all this potential, and still you'll never know. You will never use it because, maybe, you need more or want something different. I could understand that too. 

Maybe is this darkness and potential in me that keeps you out. Maybe you are evolved and don't need that kind of darkness anymore. Maybe we should have met when you weren't trying to be normal. I don't know. Maybe you are far more concient of this possibility you know better. Who knows. I will never know.