O começo do fim

Toda história tem um começo, um meio e um fim. Em algumas hitórias, o começo é a melhor parte. As borboletas no estômago, a ânsia da espera pelo próximo telefonema, o próximo encontro...

Em outras histórias, mais raras, o meio é a parte que mais interessa. A familiaridade dos gestos, o entendimento em olhares, a cumplicidade selada com gargalhas e balés noturnos, quando os corpos se comunicam através do toque. Não há mais ânsia, mas há a expectativa do meio dia, quando um almoço orquestrado a quatro mãos e quinze minutos de conversas banais dão a força necessária para terminar o dia, a semana, o mês. Os sorrisos do olhar que te levam para onde você precisa ir.

Poucas histórias têm no fim o seu apse. As grandes tragédias das óperas, em que os amantes se deixam morrer de tanto amor. E as histórias de amores tortos, incompletos, desesperados. Não é o caso dessa hitória.

O fim em si só pode conter um começo, um meio e o ato final, quando todas as luzes se apagam e os protagonistas têm a certeza de que nenhum outro ato trará novamente as luzes a esse palco. Reconhecer e aceitar o começo do fim é definitivamente a parte mais dura.

The things I have always wanted and never asked for, those are the ones I will miss the most. But I guess we, just like in the movie, we will always have Paris... At least I know I will, and I will be back there someday, to make sure the tree still stands there, like we were supposed to.

Some people will try to put you down. Some people will try to make this feel like it is your own fault.

Nobody lives your life for you. Nobody feels what it is like to be in your skin. FUCK all of them.

You feel guilty for what you did in the past? Maybe the present shows it to you what this is all about.

FUCK YOU. FUCK YOUR OPINIONS. FUCK YOU AND ALL OF YOU THINK IS TRUE. YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT WHAT THIS IS LIKE. If you think this is is your fault, this is your problem. I know God loves me. i know I am not guilty. And I know I have always told how much I loved. I told everyone. I might have not told you. I am sorry for that. I should have. I do love you, almost more than anything on Earth. I just cannot do this anymore. I cannot tell you my nightmares anymore. I gotta find more support, otherwise I will crash once and forever.

God is the only one who really knows everything. And He is the only one who can change things for me.

Perhaps it is time to bring the old times back. Just a little different, because I am the woman I am now.

I will never walk out on you. Never. Because I love too much. You will never read this and it is OK. I don't need you to read or know this. You would never understand it.

Just know in your heart that I love you and that this is unconditional. Like it is for everyone else. After all, I know I will eventually die. Of loving too much. And not being able to wait for you to realize that. But I swear the wounds you cause will always heal faster than they can hurt.