I Really Want Not To Think About You

I am in this bar and I wonder how much I would be willing to pay for oblivion. The clothes don’t hurt me, I would sell them all and stay naked.

It wouldn’t be any colder than I feel now anyway, and the cold wouldn’t force me to rest any more than the pain I feel in the space between that glass and my lips.

It burns more than pure alcohol and it keeps the deceptive hope of bites, like dripping on a stone.

I imagine two worlds separated by a huge precipice. In one you find yourself and in the other you are not. And I have the feeling that I can’t live in either of the two.

It’s not the first time that I fall in love

I knew him that way, he was behind the counter and I will try to find an end to my novel. He thought I was suffocating in my grief and I put myself in the shoes of the character that I then imitated. Word for word, letter for letter.

In this character, I locked all my fears and the words I used to caricature them, but they escaped to a place I don’t know.

Now I am in another bar and with my heart broken into a thousand pieces, so small they make me invisible.

I am like a cruel truth, someone you would present yourself to last, after having dismissed all the ideas that you have thought of.

Even if you don’t know all the patches in the world, you can be sure that there are none that can repair the blow of the last fall. Dry, deaf, even innocent.

Love becomes a bubble that you can’t touch or stop looking at, until the worst of silences burst.

During this time, you try to find a way to tell everyone that the person you defended until death is not the same anymore, and that you cannot live like this anymore because that is not the role. that suits you.

This is how reality imposes itself on you little by little, it arrives like waves on the beach, and between each high tide, there are nights for thinking.

Without looking at the clock, I suddenly have the feeling that it is too late and that the waiter who has already started clearing the last tables will not be the inspiration of my life to come.

However, a horrible laziness came over me. Walking to the house looking behind me, opening the gate, taking off my clothes and warming the cold sheets imposes daily life in a world that overwhelms me.

I pay with all the back and forth trips I do all day. The street is frozen and it is easy to slip into it. I see a lion drawn on an illuminated poster and wonder what I will do if one of the others comes my way now.

And then I remember that I am invisible and that there is nothing he could do to me that would hurt me more.

A voice in me calls me a liar. One by one the tears begin to draw slides over my life. So, as I break the silence of the street with my footsteps, I recognize as a piece of heart and begin to fear the lion.

As I realize that life still has things to take away from me, I also gain the certainty that there are reasons for living.

Then sleep invades me, and I start to think about the protagonist of my next novel …

Image by bruniwska