Ruptures and reencuentros

There is a strong overwhelming sadness when you begin to let go of something you love; sadness and anguish seeps into you, winds and spins down into your soul, to erupt, para derramarse, to flood your entire being.  There is so much that ties me to people and to places.  There are certain places that I love beyond measure and beyond articulation, it astounds me.  It overwhelms and inspires me.  When it comes to a place and experience like Mexico City, I have become so enamored that the thought of having to relinquish my plans of establishing myself there more permanently frightens and overwhelms me.  But what else is there?  What comes next?  What happens when I let you go?

I don’t know what to work for, other than for my own happiness.  I am living now, I lived yesterday, I will -maybe- live tomorrow.  I am only aware and present that I am living this exact fleeting precise past instant. I am here and I have everything here, with me. When it comes to ruptures, sometimes I prefer to block people, hoping they’d forget me, so I could forget them.  I think it becomes easier not to feel certain people so present if they themselves separate my image and smell and taste from their senses and memory. And that scares me also.  Because, once they forget me, who will I be?  What will I be? This is always possible.  This always happens.  And we still exist.  They still exist, too.  You exist separately, like you did all along, always independently.  No one belongs to any one, somewhere along the time shared and given, we forget because at a certain point we seemed to have fused together.  But we all live parallel lives; we all exist independently; you were someone before you met him; you were someone before you visited Mexico City; Mexico City was Mexico City before you; he was himself before he met you.  This is the law of history and destiny since always.  You are now a different person, perhaps more beautiful perhaps more enlightened perhaps more aware.

But then there are people you adore and love and although you may  not see them often, you adore and love just the same.  So why is there a need for a rupture?  Perhaps because it is more like a departure. Depart but leave the goodbye open for new hellos, new convergences and renewed embraces.  Sometimes I oscillate between goodbye forever or be with me always but perhaps life need not be so extreme. Leave it open to new encuentros.  El amor es eso; they will return, you will return, love always returns.

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bbautistanidia

Soy mujer que escribe, mujer que ama. Viviendo entre México, D.F. y Los Ángeles, California, soy perpetuamente una mujer y amante transfronterista. Soy la mujer que vive y piensa y algún día, como escribió Giocondo Belli, mis ojos encenderán luciérnagas.

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