lunes, 15 de junio de 2015

Dear you

Last night I had a dream. A dream I could have invented as the best scenario for a happy storyline. You are aware of the fact that I do write, although you haven't read me yet; not even know the kind of ideas I pour into the paper. Up to this point you should suspect that among this mess of down to Earth cells that compose what I am, I hold an inexhaustible dreamer. Well, the truth is that I am prone to seek refuge up in the clouds, where the air and the constellations, the smell and the silence are familiar to me. Long time ago, I designed all those patrons for me to have a place I could feel comfortable in, far from this reality I failed to understand. I made myself strong this way; I didn't need anyone here and disappointment was not that hard to bare as I would find support and love on my own mind.

Later, I learned it wouldn't be enough. I understood that if I didn't want to become bitter, ruined inside, it was precise for me to start sharing the painful load I was carrying with someone else. And I did. That's how I found out that sharing was a precious thing, whichever the level. I talked to a lot of people, some of them unknown and I started to feel lighter. I wasn't cautios, I enjoyed talking freely as for once I had the chance... but I put knives on their hands so they could hurt me at their will; and some of them did.

That's how I made the difference between what I could freely talk about -which is basically anything that cannot turn against me- and what I should lock in a drawer and dust every now and then while I am safe in my old refuge.

I am open, willing to talk and listen to anyone because I value the fact of sharing, I value words about oneself. But, after all these years, I hadn't found myself so unprotected. This time, I unconsciously put a gun on your hand and I am trusting you not to pull the trigger. I am exposing myself to you: heart and guts, body and soul. I don't really know if I am waiting for an answer or it would rather be a question... what I know for sure is that indiference is out of the list. The fact is that I expect something; I've realized pulling the trigger hurts the same as not even noticing the gun on your own hand.

I'm gonna confess you something: I don't want to go back up there in search of calm. It is a great place to imagine but implies me running away from reality. I've always been in search for beauty and I've created the most beautiful and perfect poems in there. But I've realized, and meeting you is part of the reason, that real imperfections hold more beauty than perfection itself... just because it's real.

I told you I saw you in my dreams last night and I understand you don't give as much importance to words as I do, but I hope you have it into account for what I've told you. You'll have to become a good listener if you want to reveal the truth beneath my speech, the reasons beneath my behaviour.