Amelia: "Esta servilleta es tuya"

Hola Clara,

Te escribo esta carta en una servilleta estampada con el logo de  mi bistro favorito. El de la esquina de la calle Magdalena, ¿recuerdas? No ha cambiado mucho desde la última vez que frecuentamos aquí. Bueno, te cuento que aún está el mismo florero turquesa con margaritas blancas y amarillas. Clara, decidí regresar porque me hacía falta el aroma del té chai y las conversaciones que tuvimos en nuestros años universitarios. Quise regrasar porque en este bistro lo recuerdo a él. A Xander. Qué cosa como todo eventualmente me revela como aún no lo olvido. Qué ridículo esto Clara. 

Disculpa esta mancha de té. Ahora mismo un chico con cabello rojizo oscuro pasó por mi lado y tuve que mirar. Lo extraño demasiado Clara. Te extraño a tí igual. ¿Qué nos sucedió? Eras mi amiga, mi hermana a quien podía llamar aun a las horas de la madrugada. Te alejaste porque tomé decisiones distintas a las tuyas. Perdóname. Sí, perdóname porque por primera vez no quise ser una sombra tuya. Por primera vez quise ser conocida por mi nombre y no la fama de ser tu amiga. Creo que ambas fuimos ramas de un mismo tronco, pero después de todo, nos separamos. Yo necesito mi propio sol, quizás eso me hace egoísta pero totalmente humana.


Querida Clara, espero que encuentres la felicidad. Yo la tuve y aquí en este bistro recordandote a ti y a él la sigo teniendo. La felicidad no depende de las personas a mi alrededor, depende de mí.

Así que esta taza de té chai es en honor a tí. Y este beso color rojo en la servilleta es mi manera de decirle a Xander, "Te sigo amando, idiota".

Chasing Time

She, was waiting for time. She had been waiting for four years, and yet silence is all she always had. Her hands were sweating, and her heart  pounding hard. The wind kept on singing, and leaves fell everywhere near her. She had flowers in her hair and feet. She wanted a future, but decided for an end. Her companion sat next to her licking her cheek and waiting just as anxious. She looked into her eyes and felt she was, heart broken, but not alone. She breathed in the smell of sea breeze and felt comfort. "This is what makes me", she repeated until truth echoed in her entire body. This moment would change her, this she knew. To let go of familiarity, his scent, the feel of his skin. She was letting go a life of one sided passion.

The gates opened, and four years walked in. He made noise as he ruffled the fallen leaves. He was always so poised and calm, she was the wind, the earth, the sound of laughter. He was the stillness in the night. What do you say when confronted by such a face? The face of a child man, the face of innocence. As they stared into each others eyes, he couldnt help but smile and she couldnt stop the tears.

Life passed through their minds. Their life together, was never a clean canvas. It was color mounted into color, the thickness of it all always made it impossible to start over.  He was realism and she was post impressionism. None, could have found a way to merge. When passion from color wanted to dance with his classic lines, they realized how incredibly odd and different they were. Classic lines, classic needs. Passionate colors, diverse sorrows. He wanted a Vermeer painting, all dark and sullen. She desired Edvard Munch, an emotional experience, a physical trance, to ride naked, to be naked to the world.

Finally, He walked closer to her, seeing how this ruffled her like a tree in the mercy of a tornado. Cruelty comes in all shapes. His was likea soothing  balm. She waited for his body and desired no longer his heart. As he came closer, she closed her eyes and said "This is how you made me". He embraced her, and the proximity took her by surprise and chilled her bones. So many years without passion can leave you numb and when you finally feel something, its intense.

"You know what I'm about to do, dont you?"
"I do."
"Can you give me a reason to continue waiting?"
"I have nothing. Nothing to give you."
"Always so still  and cold"
"Always so emotional and passionate"

Nothing.... 

Without a word. Without a touch. Simply gazing into their past and no future. They had no future to call upon. No hope to save them. Could you have saved them? Could you have convinced them to try? To fight for what used to unite them? What would you have said?

She was waiting for time. But she decided time should try to catch up with her. After all, she is the wind,  the sound of singing leaves, she is the moment someone decides to move on. And that moment, is now.

Art from www.artmajeur.com

                                                     

Diary Entry May 18th, 2008 Nothing lasts forever

Diary, 

     I figured it was about time i ended my story in this book and finally move on to another chapter in my life. Suddenly I have been awakend by questions. What does each rising day mean to you? What are your hopes? Do you even know what you hope for? Well, I do. I've been asking all along for a miracle in someone else, when the miracle had to become true in me first. 

 The thing about pain, is that we are afraid of it..but once the sea is calmed...we realised we have changed. Sometimes for good....always for the best. It was necesary for me to witness some attitudes in me; I stoped praying or singing to God after I heard that he liked someone else. But now it's different, I have learned to be happy with myself and with the fact that I can trust God, even when it hurts. 

Over these past nine months I have learned to face reality with a vulnerable but strong face. I have faced reality this time...and I have realized that nothing is forever or certain, let alone the way we die. And what has cost me a great deal to understand is that its ok if it nothing lasts. It was there for the time being and now this part of my life has its time, place and purpose. 

So, I guess its right to say that Jared had a purpose in my life. Lord have mercy, I am feeling my sarcassam coming up through my vocal chords.  As of now, he apparently is infatuated with a girl I went to bible camp with  a few years ago. He is sickly in love with this person who has rejected him one to many times. It hurts now, dont it Jared?

The thing that has me quite puzzled is the rumor spread around like a open book that says that he has been saying that this girl, is the God send woman for him. Allow me while I take a sip of Grandpas cough medicine in. Gulp...Gulp...Gulp

Hi, I'm back. Well, for those who dont know our tragic history...these were the same words mentioned to me a year ago by a repeted love sick Jared. You know, just because I have a full powered wit and sarcassam from time to time, dont mean I am not fragile or vulnerable. Truth is, I am. Yet, I know that being free of this roller coaster to emotional hell, is actually the salvation I need. It's the molding of clay...that even when set to fire..it transforms to a masterpiece. Nothing lasts forever...and I am fine. Bring on the pain Jared... nothing will stop be from healing. 

Sincerely,
ArwenLyn

Diary Entry: December 24 2007

Diary: 

He onced said he was the boy incapable of loving. He said how blessed he was to have found someone that teached him how to love. So, what happened? Makes me think that Michael is really not a normal person. You dont just say beautiful words and promises in God's name and then break them. He really does not deserve me. I dont ever want to be treated this way again, because for all his words and artificial promises, in the end he acted just like Gregory. Worst in my opinion  because this time around I really gave my all and loved like never before him. I wrote him an email three days ago in the hopes of having a friendship... at least. But still, no answer. Honestly, what happened to him? Why the sudden change? .......

Oh Brother..... He just texted me. This is ridiculous but no matter how many times a day i distract myself with other things, in the end when Im about to sleep, I always think of him. 

I should get out more often....legit.