Yet another year passed, and I still love you.

[En Català]

I wrote these words a long time ago. It talks about my broken heart.
Maybe I dramatized a bit, cheesy enough for a writer of my level 😉

I realized I love you a long time ago.

I’ve been lucky, though. First months were terrible; you took all my breaths, seconds and nights. The following weeks were lighter; you took half of my sleep, and a few days a week. Now, I see a slight gleam, and I don’t think of you that often.

But then, by chance, we meet.

None of us really wants these encounters, neither to avoid them. We come across, we timidly ask for each other’s life. We pretend that we don’t care much, and we talk with other people. But inside us the blood pressure increases, and the heart beats noisier. The skin chills and a knit in the pit of the stomach appears.

At the end of the night,- and after a few drinks – we look at the eyes, and we both realize that we missed each other. We whisper a few words that don’t say much and mean a lot; and we say goodbye, ‘see you soon’. Perhaps ‘soon’ means next week, or next year, we don’t have a clue. Because none of us is planning these encounters, neither avoiding them.

The days after the shake are unbearable.

We exchange a few messages, pretending that we’ve got something to say to each other…  but we only fear how long the ‘soon’ will be. And silence takes over for a day, for a week, for a few months, until I realize yet another year passed, and I still love you.

 

This post ends here. The lines below are written in Catalan for those who don't speak English.
Feel free to comment about it at the bottom of the page :)

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I ja ha passat un altre any, i encara t’estimo.

Vaig escriure aquestes paraules fa molt temps. Parlen del meu cor trencat.
He dramatitzat la història una miqueta, només perquè sigui suficientment cursi per a una escriptora del meu nivell 😉

Ja fa molt de temps vaig ser conscient que t’estimo.

Però he tingut sort. Els primers mesos van ser terribles; em prenies cada inhalació, cada segon i cada nit. Les següents setmanes foren més lleugeres; només eres present en la meitat dels somnis, i més aviat pocs dies a la setmana. Ara veig una petita llum, i ja no penso en tu gaire sovint. 

I llavors, topem.

Cap dels dos desitja aquestes trobades, però tampoc les evitem. Ens creuem i, tímidament, ens preguntem per les respectives vides. Pretenem que no ens importa gaire, i parlem amb altra gent. Però a dins, la sang raja més de pressa, i el cor batega més sorollós. La pell s’esgarrifa, i l’estómac es tanca.

Al final de la nit, – i després d’algunes copes – ens mirem als ulls, i ens adonem que ens anyorem. Xiuxiuegem algunes paraules que no diuen massa cosa, però que volen dir molt; i ens diem adéu ‘fins aviat’. Potser ‘aviat’ vol dir la setmana vinent, o l’any vinent, no en tenim ni idea. Perquè cap dels dos planeja aquestes trobades, però tampoc les evitem.

Els dies posteriors a la sacsejada són insuportables.

Intercanviem alguns missatges, pretenem que tenim alguna cosa a dir-nos, però només tenim por de quan lluny l”aviat’ serà. I el silenci es fa palès per un dia, per una setmana, per uns pocs mesos… fins que m’adono que ja ha passat un altre any, i encara t’estimo.

 

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1 Comment

  1. Segueix escrivint, per que ho fas molt be. AH!! Pero aquest noi no sho mereix!! Molts petonets > El 7 oct 2016, a les 1:40, Serendipity is a way of life va escriure: > >

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