13 de febrero de 2015

The nameless feeling

   He was the man of her life. He was so for over a decade. And yet, thousands of miles separated them. That was the official excuse.

Since she knew him, she felt something special, different, pure and sincere. That nameless feeling had become part of her daily life, sometimes walking next to her as a guide dog, sometimes pointing a gun to her head as a simple but ruthless thief. She had learned to live with it, sometimes on the surface, sometimes in the depths of her soul ... but there it was day after day, without ever disappear.

They tried to be together, but fate always kept an Ace up its sleeve, an Ace of clubs, black and rough, hitting her with increasing force.
Occasionally they met again, picking one the pieces of the other, comforting themselves, licking their wounds.
But there was always a return ticket that ended their brief life together.

Then she returned home, her routine, just to face again the nameless feeling, to relearn how to live with it. To mourn in the shower for hours.

Time passed by and decreased that emptiness; the feeling was sinking every night a little more. No it could never disappear, but almost fell into oblivion. And she went on.

Suddenly one morning she wakes up missing him too much. Looks up the phone and discovers a message from him. They say nonsense, but in the blanks they call each other loudly. Absence is too large, too painful, it burns, and they agree to meet again.

She wants to think that this time will be different, which may follow a new path together. But that will not happen. He will come, yes, but with another return ticket. They will live happily few days and then everything will fade, to wake up in the solitude of her room once again.

That nameless feeling is so large that it can not be written in words, even dipping her pen into an inkwell blood. She has never felt or will feel the same for someone else. She sleeps every night hugging her resignation.

"It's better to love and have lost than never have loved" they say, but what kind of life awaits to anyone who knows the man of your life is not going to stay? How can you live with that absurd and impossible fate?

Looking out the window and watching the rain obscuring the crystals with the comfort of a few days together, pretending that everything is fine, that they are happy, and that this ride will last forever.

And waking up in an empty bed.

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