It was weird to realize the world had not stopped spinning.
Everyone was still living their normal lives and here I was feeling like my whole world had crumbled.
This is the thing about a broken heart. It can be torn into millions of pieces and no one has to know, no one probably will, anyway.
Mine was broken.
I didn't even feel like I had a heart anymore. I barely felt like a person, anyway. I stared at the mirror and saw nothing, felt nothing. Who was that person?
Where had all my dreams gone? I know I had them at some point. What was I living for? I had no answers. I just saw a blank stare. There was nothing there to be proud of or to fight for.
I wanted to give up.
I was weak, lonely and broken.
sexta-feira, 10 de novembro de 2017
quarta-feira, 11 de outubro de 2017
dor
Verdades e saudades.
Palavras ditas e mentiras.
Por que se escondeu?
Por trás de tudo isso
um segredo
sombrio.
Sonhos se dissolvem
momentos que seus beijos
não devolvem.
fugir parece a melhor opção,
mas não cicatrizaria
as feridas no meu
coração
vulnerável
Palavras ditas e mentiras.
Por que se escondeu?
Por trás de tudo isso
um segredo
sombrio.
Sonhos se dissolvem
momentos que seus beijos
não devolvem.
fugir parece a melhor opção,
mas não cicatrizaria
as feridas no meu
coração
vulnerável
quarta-feira, 30 de abril de 2014
Anxiety
Falta de ar, coração acelerado, mãos suadas e sensação de desmaio.
Não era a primeira vez que eu tinha essas sensações. Não era a primeira vez que eu questionava o que havia de errado comigo. Não era a primeira, nem a segunda, nem a terceira.
Fechei os olhos e me forcei a respirar regularmente, tentando compassar meu coração. Senti aquele frio na espinha chegando até as pontas dos dedos. "Você não é louca", repeti.
Não pude evitar, logo estava pensando em minha última crise. A pior da minha vida. Me lembrei dos meus braços e rosto arranhados, me lembrei do barulho que fazia tentando buscar oxigênio para levar aos pulmões e do jeito que tinha que me segurar para não cair em pedaços. Me lembrei das lágrimas mais doloridas, do desespero e do escuro, da impotência, da desesperança. Me lembrei de como ele ficou bravo e escondeu as facas da cozinha e das noites em claro. Me lembrei da desilusão que ele teve quando me viu assim, nua, machucada, em pedaços. E foi aquele momento que eu senti dor de verdade.
Ele nunca entenderia, e eu não podia contar pra ninguém. Me senti sozinha, fraca. Louca. Doente.
Tive medo de estar louca. As outras pessoas me pareciam tão normais e pareciam saber lidar tão bem com situações mais difíceis que a minha. Por que eu era tão fraca? Tive ódio de mim, do meu emocional abalado.
Quando me recuperei e melhorei jurei que não passaria por isso de novo. Mudei de atitude, fiz o que os médicos mandaram, emagreci, comecei a fazer exercícios físicos, reduzi minha carga horária.
Então por que eu estava assim de novo? Estava me esforçando tanto para ser positiva, mas eu podia sentir o controle fugindo de mim. Já não tinha mais vontade de nada e me sentia fraca. Meu corpo estava reagindo mais uma vez. Chorei. Senti medo. Medo de perder o controle. Medo de estar doente. Medo de dessa vez não conseguir me recuperar.
segunda-feira, 24 de fevereiro de 2014
estupor.
Hoje eu quero chorar. Hoje cansei de ser forte. As vezes parece ser em vão.
Ninguém entenderia. Ninguém consegue sentir a decepção do outro. Ninguém. Aí você se sente só. Por que se ninguém pode sentir o mesmo que você, como podem te entender? E aí você nem perde tempo tentando explicar, porque eles simplesmente não entendem.
É aí que você se isola. Guarda cada dor, cada lágrima, cada sentimento dentro de si. Pode até se trancar no banheiro e chorar. Mas até o reflexo no espelho te julga. E as lágrimas nunca são suficientes pra aliviar a dor.
Voce pode ter ideias malucas, como fugir, se machucar, morrer, desistir. Mas no funda sabe que nada disso adiantaria porque está preso dentro de si. Nem mesmo a morte pode te libertar.
É desesperador. Parece que vai perder o controle e a sanidade. Por um momento sua cabeça gira e você não respira. E então passa. E fica o estupor. Nada de lágrimas mais. Somente o vazio. O medo. E de repente tudo o que você quer é não sentir mais nada.
Ninguém entenderia. Ninguém consegue sentir a decepção do outro. Ninguém. Aí você se sente só. Por que se ninguém pode sentir o mesmo que você, como podem te entender? E aí você nem perde tempo tentando explicar, porque eles simplesmente não entendem.
É aí que você se isola. Guarda cada dor, cada lágrima, cada sentimento dentro de si. Pode até se trancar no banheiro e chorar. Mas até o reflexo no espelho te julga. E as lágrimas nunca são suficientes pra aliviar a dor.
Voce pode ter ideias malucas, como fugir, se machucar, morrer, desistir. Mas no funda sabe que nada disso adiantaria porque está preso dentro de si. Nem mesmo a morte pode te libertar.
É desesperador. Parece que vai perder o controle e a sanidade. Por um momento sua cabeça gira e você não respira. E então passa. E fica o estupor. Nada de lágrimas mais. Somente o vazio. O medo. E de repente tudo o que você quer é não sentir mais nada.
domingo, 24 de novembro de 2013
Crawling
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
There's something inside me
That pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self control I fear, is never ending
That pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self control I fear, is never ending
Controlling, I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that it's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before, so insecure
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that it's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before, so insecure
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
(Distracting)
Against my will
Distracting, reacting
(Distracting)
Against my will
I stand beside my own reflection
(My own reflection)
It's haunting, how I can't seem
(Haunting)
To find myself again
(My own reflection)
It's haunting, how I can't seem
(Haunting)
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that it's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before, so, insecure
(Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that it's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before, so, insecure
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing, confusing what is real
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing, confusing what is real
(There's something inside me
That pulls beneath the surface, consuming)
Confusing what is real
(This lack of self control I fear, is never ending, controlling)
Confusing what is real
That pulls beneath the surface, consuming)
Confusing what is real
(This lack of self control I fear, is never ending, controlling)
Confusing what is real
quinta-feira, 14 de novembro de 2013
Impotência
-INJUSTIÇA!!!!- ela gritou batendo a porta de casa.
Jogou os sapatos na parede, deixando marcas e se controlou para não quebrar nada, cedendo e caindo no chão. Abraçou os joelhos e chorou.
Chorou aquele choro doído, que desfigura o rosto e deixa os olhos, nariz e boca inchados e vermelhos. Tudo a irritava. Alguma parte dentro dela se incomodava com a parede que acabara de sujar e se irritava pensando que teria que limpar mais tarde. Essa mesma parte a considerava ingrata e pirracenta. Essa parte era racional. Essa parte estava escondida, sem forças.
Enquanto isso, sua outra parte urrava de raiva, de indignação. Ela sentia o sangue correndo pelos braços, chegando às mãos e às pontas dos dedos. Parecia que toda a sua raiva se transformava em força, em instinto animal. Ela queria quebrar tudo, queria bater em alguém, matar alguém. Queria jogar tudo na parede e se jogar junto. Ela rangeu os dentes tentando se controlar. A memória da janela que ela teve que pagar caro para consertar ainda estava fresca na cabeça. Chorou.
Impotente.
Jogou os sapatos na parede, deixando marcas e se controlou para não quebrar nada, cedendo e caindo no chão. Abraçou os joelhos e chorou.
Chorou aquele choro doído, que desfigura o rosto e deixa os olhos, nariz e boca inchados e vermelhos. Tudo a irritava. Alguma parte dentro dela se incomodava com a parede que acabara de sujar e se irritava pensando que teria que limpar mais tarde. Essa mesma parte a considerava ingrata e pirracenta. Essa parte era racional. Essa parte estava escondida, sem forças.
Enquanto isso, sua outra parte urrava de raiva, de indignação. Ela sentia o sangue correndo pelos braços, chegando às mãos e às pontas dos dedos. Parecia que toda a sua raiva se transformava em força, em instinto animal. Ela queria quebrar tudo, queria bater em alguém, matar alguém. Queria jogar tudo na parede e se jogar junto. Ela rangeu os dentes tentando se controlar. A memória da janela que ela teve que pagar caro para consertar ainda estava fresca na cabeça. Chorou.
Impotente.
domingo, 11 de agosto de 2013
sexta-feira, 26 de abril de 2013
No, she screamed. Her face was completely wet, transfigured from crying. She sobbed. On and on she went.
''I can't do this anymore." She said for the hundredth time. "I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I can't do this. I just can't."
He looked alarmed at first. But as the scene repeated itself week after week, he grew used to it. He thought it was foolish. Just a cry for attention - literally.
She burned inside. She felt weak. She had no friends anymore. None. And now when she tried to talk to him, he gave her the same pep talk, not caring all that much. That hurt. But she couldn't blame him. Who would ever stand that?? She was unbearable, annoying, even boring. So predictable. So weak.
So weak, she thought again, as she lay on the floor, arm wrapped around her body, trying to breathe, feeling tears run down like razor blades. So weak.
She could see no point in living anymore. Like so many times before, she felt stuck. She never thought her enemies would be people she loved most. They were killing her. Her own parents. Her grandma, who was once her best friend. Her 'best' friends. And she had fought for too long.
And now it was time for her to go.
She got the kitchen knife not believing what she was about to do. She ran it through her wrist. Once, twice. It wasn't working. For the third time. And finally the blade cut through her skin. A dark red thick liquid ran down her arm. She let the knife fall. And finally surrendered to the pain.
''I can't do this anymore." She said for the hundredth time. "I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I can't do this. I just can't."
He looked alarmed at first. But as the scene repeated itself week after week, he grew used to it. He thought it was foolish. Just a cry for attention - literally.
She burned inside. She felt weak. She had no friends anymore. None. And now when she tried to talk to him, he gave her the same pep talk, not caring all that much. That hurt. But she couldn't blame him. Who would ever stand that?? She was unbearable, annoying, even boring. So predictable. So weak.
So weak, she thought again, as she lay on the floor, arm wrapped around her body, trying to breathe, feeling tears run down like razor blades. So weak.
She could see no point in living anymore. Like so many times before, she felt stuck. She never thought her enemies would be people she loved most. They were killing her. Her own parents. Her grandma, who was once her best friend. Her 'best' friends. And she had fought for too long.
And now it was time for her to go.
She got the kitchen knife not believing what she was about to do. She ran it through her wrist. Once, twice. It wasn't working. For the third time. And finally the blade cut through her skin. A dark red thick liquid ran down her arm. She let the knife fall. And finally surrendered to the pain.
sexta-feira, 26 de outubro de 2012
Nao sei por onde começar.
A vida tem pregado peças em mim. Odeio crescer. O que eu faço? Não posso fugir disso. Socorro!
Estou sozinha. Tão sozinha...
Me perco no meio de papéis e mais papéis.
Tenho tomado decisões difíceis. Casamento não é tão fácil assim. Me enganei por mais de um ano. Não posso me enganar mais.
Estou exausta de tentar.
E não tenho nenhuma perspectiva de melhora. Só vai ficar mais difícil.
Não aguento mais chorar. Choro todos os dias.
Não foi isso que eu sonhei pra mim.
Não posso mudar nada.
Quero fugir. Fugir de tudo, de todos.
Não tenho mais amigos.
Minha família não entende nada.
Meu marido nunca está em casa.
Finalmente consegui a solidão que tanto quis um dia.
E não me sinto mais confortável assim,
A vida tem pregado peças em mim. Odeio crescer. O que eu faço? Não posso fugir disso. Socorro!
Estou sozinha. Tão sozinha...
Me perco no meio de papéis e mais papéis.
Tenho tomado decisões difíceis. Casamento não é tão fácil assim. Me enganei por mais de um ano. Não posso me enganar mais.
Estou exausta de tentar.
E não tenho nenhuma perspectiva de melhora. Só vai ficar mais difícil.
Não aguento mais chorar. Choro todos os dias.
Não foi isso que eu sonhei pra mim.
Não posso mudar nada.
Quero fugir. Fugir de tudo, de todos.
Não tenho mais amigos.
Minha família não entende nada.
Meu marido nunca está em casa.
Finalmente consegui a solidão que tanto quis um dia.
E não me sinto mais confortável assim,
quarta-feira, 10 de outubro de 2012
disappointmet.
I don't know about you, but sometimes I wonder what the hell I'm really doing here.
It can be confusing sometimes to measure up to people's expectations and to know if that's even worth it.
Life is difficult. Not bad. Just difficult.
I know I am blessed daily, however, I'm not one hundred percent happy. While it only depends on me choosing being happy, I know I have to make choices in order for this to be real. Right now I can't change anything.
I got married really young. I got a great job for my age. I got into the best university, for free. And still, none of this really seems to matter sometimes.
I never see my husband. Ever. I can't talk to him or tell him about my day or how I feel without feeling that I'm using up his time. I hardly have friends anymore. I feel lonely at times. And silly for feeling this way.
My job is ok. But I know I can be so much more. I wanna find something I am passionate about and great at. Some people do. Why can't I?
I don't want to live a miserable life working everydayn stuck in the same routine just because of money or because I don't want to get out of my comfort zone.
I WANT TO LIVE.
I dropped out of college. Finally. I don't know why it took me so long to do it. Those past three years have been good and heavy. Heavy because I didn't allow myself to admit that I didn't like it, I would never be happy at it and that I could choose something else.
If I had to summarise everybody's reaction in one word it would be disappointment. I think my mom wanted me to find happiness in the same place she did. But I'm so different. That was SO not what would make me happy.
My grandma loved to show off saying that her first granddaughter studied at UFMG- such a false status. That means absolutely nothing to me. She pretended to support me when I told her, but I'm sure she was just hoping I would see the light and change my mind.
My dad swears I'll regret it.
My grandpa is in denial. Pretending not to see it.
My in-laws thought I had lost my mind and think I am settling for being a housewife.
My husband supported me, but I can see in his eyes that he is afraid for my decision, he doesn't like it and doesn't approve of my wishes.
I JUST WANT FREEDOM.
I don't want the same routine everyday. I don't want to live everyday the same way. I want to be wild and do crazy things. I want to fully live. To live the way I didn't when I was a child or a teen. I want to stop holding myself back. I want to be fearless, like I used to think I was. I want to make my own choices. To allow myself to be happy. To be my own self. Not the rule. The exception. I want to stop finding cornflakes.
Is that too much to ask?
It can be confusing sometimes to measure up to people's expectations and to know if that's even worth it.
Life is difficult. Not bad. Just difficult.
I know I am blessed daily, however, I'm not one hundred percent happy. While it only depends on me choosing being happy, I know I have to make choices in order for this to be real. Right now I can't change anything.
I got married really young. I got a great job for my age. I got into the best university, for free. And still, none of this really seems to matter sometimes.
I never see my husband. Ever. I can't talk to him or tell him about my day or how I feel without feeling that I'm using up his time. I hardly have friends anymore. I feel lonely at times. And silly for feeling this way.
My job is ok. But I know I can be so much more. I wanna find something I am passionate about and great at. Some people do. Why can't I?
I don't want to live a miserable life working everydayn stuck in the same routine just because of money or because I don't want to get out of my comfort zone.
I WANT TO LIVE.
I dropped out of college. Finally. I don't know why it took me so long to do it. Those past three years have been good and heavy. Heavy because I didn't allow myself to admit that I didn't like it, I would never be happy at it and that I could choose something else.
If I had to summarise everybody's reaction in one word it would be disappointment. I think my mom wanted me to find happiness in the same place she did. But I'm so different. That was SO not what would make me happy.
My grandma loved to show off saying that her first granddaughter studied at UFMG- such a false status. That means absolutely nothing to me. She pretended to support me when I told her, but I'm sure she was just hoping I would see the light and change my mind.
My dad swears I'll regret it.
My grandpa is in denial. Pretending not to see it.
My in-laws thought I had lost my mind and think I am settling for being a housewife.
My husband supported me, but I can see in his eyes that he is afraid for my decision, he doesn't like it and doesn't approve of my wishes.
I JUST WANT FREEDOM.
I don't want the same routine everyday. I don't want to live everyday the same way. I want to be wild and do crazy things. I want to fully live. To live the way I didn't when I was a child or a teen. I want to stop holding myself back. I want to be fearless, like I used to think I was. I want to make my own choices. To allow myself to be happy. To be my own self. Not the rule. The exception. I want to stop finding cornflakes.
Is that too much to ask?
quarta-feira, 30 de maio de 2012
segunda-feira, 21 de maio de 2012
Rated R
Then she smiled.
His world just stopped when she smiled like that. That was the smile he loved. The true one. A loving one. A caring one.
He knew he was out of line for even considering itm but what he wanted to do was to break rules. Today nothing mattered to him. He couldn't stand any pressure anymore. Not half a second had passed. His heart was thumpering faster by the sight of her.
He touched her face very lightly with his fingertips. She closed her eyes at his touch, sighing. It was almost as if she was surrendering too, willing to break rules.
He slid his hand to her neck, pulling her close. Holding her face an inch from his. Her lips parted. Her hands were suddenly on his hair, fiercefully, bringing his lips to hers.
He felt her lips on his, her tongue, her teeth. His hands slid down to her shoulders; her coat was coming off with, revealing her only piece of clothing. An old tank top. So old that he could see the shape of her breasts and belly underneath it.
He grabbed her by her tights, pulling her to his lap, feeling every part of her, undoing the buttons of her jeans. He pressed his lips against her lips, then down to her chin, her jaw and to her neck. She gasped. He felt encouraged. She threw her head back as if asking him to keep going. He went down to her belly and then up again, bringing his hands up with him, taking off her tank top. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
She didn't fight it. She couldn't function anymore. She just wanted him to get all of her clothes off.
She hugged him, andripped his shirt off too, sliding her hands down his chest, feeling every inch of his warm skin. She desired him. She hungered him.
She remembered of the sea. That beautiful blue horizon. So peaceful. So private. So fine. The waves coming and going, coming and going.
Rules had bee broken. They didn't care. She she laid on his shoulder, feeling his arms caressing her, lightly. Not so hungry anymore. Not so passionate. But loving. Caring. Just like her smile.
He knew he was out of line for even considering itm but what he wanted to do was to break rules. Today nothing mattered to him. He couldn't stand any pressure anymore. Not half a second had passed. His heart was thumpering faster by the sight of her.
He touched her face very lightly with his fingertips. She closed her eyes at his touch, sighing. It was almost as if she was surrendering too, willing to break rules.
He slid his hand to her neck, pulling her close. Holding her face an inch from his. Her lips parted. Her hands were suddenly on his hair, fiercefully, bringing his lips to hers.
He felt her lips on his, her tongue, her teeth. His hands slid down to her shoulders; her coat was coming off with, revealing her only piece of clothing. An old tank top. So old that he could see the shape of her breasts and belly underneath it.
He grabbed her by her tights, pulling her to his lap, feeling every part of her, undoing the buttons of her jeans. He pressed his lips against her lips, then down to her chin, her jaw and to her neck. She gasped. He felt encouraged. She threw her head back as if asking him to keep going. He went down to her belly and then up again, bringing his hands up with him, taking off her tank top. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
She didn't fight it. She couldn't function anymore. She just wanted him to get all of her clothes off.
She hugged him, andripped his shirt off too, sliding her hands down his chest, feeling every inch of his warm skin. She desired him. She hungered him.
She remembered of the sea. That beautiful blue horizon. So peaceful. So private. So fine. The waves coming and going, coming and going.
Rules had bee broken. They didn't care. She she laid on his shoulder, feeling his arms caressing her, lightly. Not so hungry anymore. Not so passionate. But loving. Caring. Just like her smile.
sábado, 12 de maio de 2012
segunda-feira, 9 de abril de 2012
I don't know what I'm doing here
How is it that after almost 3 years of torture in college I still don't know what the hell I am doing here. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL????
I hate it. I hate me. Nobody really gets it. I have no freaking idea where my life is heading. WHAT AM I GOOD AT?? WHAT? WHY THE HELL AM I HERE?
I still have no idea what I wanna do with my life. What am I passionate about? IDON'TKNOW. I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA.
I am 20. married. and i am lost. LOST. confused. so freaking dizzy. so tired of pretending.
I just have to stand this 4 year torture (well, in my case, many more than 4) to get a shitty paper. honestly. WHY?
I hate this building. I hate the subjects. I hate having to watch classes.
Why are people so judgemental, telling me that I can't drop out. SO WHAT? What if I drop out? What if I lose my freaking job? It's going nowhere. My problem is that I can't picture myself in 2 years, or in 5 or in 10. I don't see myself having a big carreer and being successful, rich and satisfied by doing the same thing I am doing now in 20 years. So what is the next step? What is a diplomma going to change? What difference does it make?
Is that really what I want? I DONT KNOW.
I AM 20. NOT 40.
I DONT HAVE TO KNOW.
I just wanna be let go.
I hate it. I hate me. Nobody really gets it. I have no freaking idea where my life is heading. WHAT AM I GOOD AT?? WHAT? WHY THE HELL AM I HERE?
I still have no idea what I wanna do with my life. What am I passionate about? IDON'TKNOW. I HAVE NO FREAKING IDEA.
I am 20. married. and i am lost. LOST. confused. so freaking dizzy. so tired of pretending.
I just have to stand this 4 year torture (well, in my case, many more than 4) to get a shitty paper. honestly. WHY?
I hate this building. I hate the subjects. I hate having to watch classes.
Why are people so judgemental, telling me that I can't drop out. SO WHAT? What if I drop out? What if I lose my freaking job? It's going nowhere. My problem is that I can't picture myself in 2 years, or in 5 or in 10. I don't see myself having a big carreer and being successful, rich and satisfied by doing the same thing I am doing now in 20 years. So what is the next step? What is a diplomma going to change? What difference does it make?
Is that really what I want? I DONT KNOW.
I AM 20. NOT 40.
I DONT HAVE TO KNOW.
I just wanna be let go.
quarta-feira, 7 de março de 2012
at the end of the day it's just cornflakes
I haven't written anything in awhile. I noticed a long time ago, that I only feel the need to write when life isn't going exactly well.
Well, exactly 8 months ago, I got married to the love of my life. I was so lucky to find him. He is patient, loving, caring, hard working, smart, fun, funny. We match perfectly. Since then, life has been kind of wonderful. I have expirienced joy and happiness like I never had before.
But for the past month, things have taken a turn. I don't know why, but everything (but my marriage) is falling apart.
For the first time we are having money issues, which is funny, because when we got married, we earned less than half as much as we do now. We work hard and study and pay our bills, and somehow, at the end of the month we have absolutely nothing left. We owe our parents some money -- not much, but enough to bother me. And our car broke, and we don't really have the money to get it fixed.
But I wish that were the only problem.
When I got into college, I had a lot of trouble figuring out what I wanted and what to do then. Before that, getting into college was my only goal and I didn't have any further plans. That was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And when I reached it, I realized it was just cornflakes.
I have faced that disappointing feeling many times in my life. But I think I am facing it now again. In my job.
When I got this job, it was everything I wanted, something I never thought I would get so fast - and I did.
But now that I've been there for about 8 months, I am starting to see that there's no pot of gold. It's not that I don't like it. It just isn't all that I thought it was.
My husband has been the only reason I have to be happy.
I feel so weak. I've felt this way before, but at least I had some sort of finish line. Now I don't. My only goal now is to graduate, and that will only happen in 2 years. I hate college.
But then what? What's gonna happen after that? We don't have plans... I'm desparate to get out of here. I don't know where I'd go, but I just want to be some place else. Is this crazy?
All I know is that I'm sick of seeking my pot of gold. For all I know I found diamonds when I married my husband. But is it wrong to want more? Cause I do. And I'm sick of being played by a bowl of cornflakes.
Well, exactly 8 months ago, I got married to the love of my life. I was so lucky to find him. He is patient, loving, caring, hard working, smart, fun, funny. We match perfectly. Since then, life has been kind of wonderful. I have expirienced joy and happiness like I never had before.
But for the past month, things have taken a turn. I don't know why, but everything (but my marriage) is falling apart.
For the first time we are having money issues, which is funny, because when we got married, we earned less than half as much as we do now. We work hard and study and pay our bills, and somehow, at the end of the month we have absolutely nothing left. We owe our parents some money -- not much, but enough to bother me. And our car broke, and we don't really have the money to get it fixed.
But I wish that were the only problem.
When I got into college, I had a lot of trouble figuring out what I wanted and what to do then. Before that, getting into college was my only goal and I didn't have any further plans. That was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And when I reached it, I realized it was just cornflakes.
I have faced that disappointing feeling many times in my life. But I think I am facing it now again. In my job.
When I got this job, it was everything I wanted, something I never thought I would get so fast - and I did.
But now that I've been there for about 8 months, I am starting to see that there's no pot of gold. It's not that I don't like it. It just isn't all that I thought it was.
My husband has been the only reason I have to be happy.
I feel so weak. I've felt this way before, but at least I had some sort of finish line. Now I don't. My only goal now is to graduate, and that will only happen in 2 years. I hate college.
But then what? What's gonna happen after that? We don't have plans... I'm desparate to get out of here. I don't know where I'd go, but I just want to be some place else. Is this crazy?
All I know is that I'm sick of seeking my pot of gold. For all I know I found diamonds when I married my husband. But is it wrong to want more? Cause I do. And I'm sick of being played by a bowl of cornflakes.
segunda-feira, 22 de agosto de 2011
Ele entrou no quarto silenciosamente, tentando não acordá-la. Trocou de roupa, fechou a cortina e saiu novamente.
Passado algum tempo ouviu o som de passos, uma porta fechando e em seguida a descarga. Ela estava acordada. Ele se dirigiu até o quarto e deitou ao seu lado. Percebendo que algo não estava bem, ele começou a contar sobre seu dia, e mansamente ganhou. Ela se deitou sobre seu peito e ele sentiu lagrimas silenciosas descendo pelo rosto dela.
Passado algum tempo ouviu o som de passos, uma porta fechando e em seguida a descarga. Ela estava acordada. Ele se dirigiu até o quarto e deitou ao seu lado. Percebendo que algo não estava bem, ele começou a contar sobre seu dia, e mansamente ganhou. Ela se deitou sobre seu peito e ele sentiu lagrimas silenciosas descendo pelo rosto dela.
sábado, 20 de agosto de 2011
terça-feira, 7 de junho de 2011
Here I am. Sitting in front of the computer, trying to figure out why I am so stressed out again.
This thought always leads to many others, it gets me questioning and wondering what I am doing to my life.
I've been going through a very hard phase. Things are not very easy. I keep feeling alone and scared and like no one understands me. Everybody keeps saying I need to be patient and I need to be calm and enjoy every minute of it. But I just can't.
I can't deal with all this pressure. Call me whatever you want. I know people keep saying I have to grow up, but he's known from the very begining that I feel too immature.
Sometimes I feel like I am skipping stages. Important stages. And that hurts. It's like being forced to grow. Phisically, I mean.
I know people think I am childish, spoilled, unready... But what does that matter?
Can the future really be so much worse than all this? I don't think so. All I want is to be alone with him. If I didn't love him so much, I would have given up already.
This thought always leads to many others, it gets me questioning and wondering what I am doing to my life.
I've been going through a very hard phase. Things are not very easy. I keep feeling alone and scared and like no one understands me. Everybody keeps saying I need to be patient and I need to be calm and enjoy every minute of it. But I just can't.
I can't deal with all this pressure. Call me whatever you want. I know people keep saying I have to grow up, but he's known from the very begining that I feel too immature.
Sometimes I feel like I am skipping stages. Important stages. And that hurts. It's like being forced to grow. Phisically, I mean.
I know people think I am childish, spoilled, unready... But what does that matter?
Can the future really be so much worse than all this? I don't think so. All I want is to be alone with him. If I didn't love him so much, I would have given up already.
sábado, 14 de maio de 2011
Eu Ando Pela Fé
Hinos Sud
Farei convênios sagrado e os guardarei
Do sacerdócio essa benção eu receberei
Viverei de modo a merecer a exaltação.
Aumentando o testemunho sempre mais
Eu tenho fé, sou filha de pais celestes
Divina sou por natureza herança
O Santo Espírito revela meus dons minha missão
Vou buscar conhecimento crescer e aprender.
Eu sei que um dia ante o pai vou ter que responder.
Pelo bem ou mal que praticar, por tudo que escolher.
A minha integridade, eu posso demonstrar
Se boas obras praticar e o reino edificar.
Eu tenho fé, sou filha de pais celestes
Divina sou por natureza herança
E depois que Deus provar-me,
Face a face o verei, mais hoje aqui
Eu ando pela fé
Sim, hoje aqui eu ando pela fé
Hinos Sud
Farei convênios sagrado e os guardarei
Do sacerdócio essa benção eu receberei
Viverei de modo a merecer a exaltação.
Aumentando o testemunho sempre mais
Eu tenho fé, sou filha de pais celestes
Divina sou por natureza herança
O Santo Espírito revela meus dons minha missão
Vou buscar conhecimento crescer e aprender.
Eu sei que um dia ante o pai vou ter que responder.
Pelo bem ou mal que praticar, por tudo que escolher.
A minha integridade, eu posso demonstrar
Se boas obras praticar e o reino edificar.
Eu tenho fé, sou filha de pais celestes
Divina sou por natureza herança
E depois que Deus provar-me,
Face a face o verei, mais hoje aqui
Eu ando pela fé
Sim, hoje aqui eu ando pela fé
segunda-feira, 25 de abril de 2011
Breaking Dawn (adapted)
"I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes. Keeping them shut, I stumbled my way to my room.
"You'd think I was shoving bamboo splinters under your nails"
I paid no attention to her. I was in my happy place.
In my happy place, the whole wedding mess was over and done. Behind me. Already repressed and forgotten.
We were alone, just Thiago and me. The setting was fuzzy and constantly in flux. But I wasn't especially concerned about the where part.
Thiago and I were together, and I'd fulfilled my side of our compromise perfectly. I'd married him.
I didn'tcare for that moment that the whole town was talking about me. I didn't think about the spectale I would have to star in much too soon. I didn't worry about tripping on my train or giggling at the wrong moment or being too young or the staring audience.
I was with Thiago in my happy place."
"You'd think I was shoving bamboo splinters under your nails"
I paid no attention to her. I was in my happy place.
In my happy place, the whole wedding mess was over and done. Behind me. Already repressed and forgotten.
We were alone, just Thiago and me. The setting was fuzzy and constantly in flux. But I wasn't especially concerned about the where part.
Thiago and I were together, and I'd fulfilled my side of our compromise perfectly. I'd married him.
I didn'tcare for that moment that the whole town was talking about me. I didn't think about the spectale I would have to star in much too soon. I didn't worry about tripping on my train or giggling at the wrong moment or being too young or the staring audience.
I was with Thiago in my happy place."
terça-feira, 19 de abril de 2011
Desligou o telefone com um no na garganta e lagrimas de odio nos olhos. odio de si mesma.
pegou o telefone para ligar para uma de suas amigas e desabafar. mas para quem ela ligaria? quem ouviria mais uma vez suas magoas, tudo que ela guardava para si, nao querendo lidar com os problemas? ela nao tinha mais pra quem ligar. nao tinha coragem. ela abandonara suas amigas - e seu amigo. e agora teria de lidar com isso sozinha.
sozinha... ela pensou. eu gostava tanto disso antes.. era tao bom o sentimento de estar so, sem ter que dividir nada com ninguem. era o que ela fazia antes.. se recolhia em seu quarto e ficava feliz. nunca sentia solidao. ela gostava de ficar la, quieta, sem expllicar nada pra ninguem. era onde ela se encaixava melhor... era o que ela fazia antes quando ela ficava triste ou com raiva.
nunca chorava. por que entao agora parecia uma peneira? chorando a todo o tempo, aquele choro amargo que doi la no fundo? pqe se deixava magoar tao facilmente...
era tao melhor antes... quando ninguem havia derrubado suas paredes e a deixado vulneravel.
pegou o telefone para ligar para uma de suas amigas e desabafar. mas para quem ela ligaria? quem ouviria mais uma vez suas magoas, tudo que ela guardava para si, nao querendo lidar com os problemas? ela nao tinha mais pra quem ligar. nao tinha coragem. ela abandonara suas amigas - e seu amigo. e agora teria de lidar com isso sozinha.
sozinha... ela pensou. eu gostava tanto disso antes.. era tao bom o sentimento de estar so, sem ter que dividir nada com ninguem. era o que ela fazia antes.. se recolhia em seu quarto e ficava feliz. nunca sentia solidao. ela gostava de ficar la, quieta, sem expllicar nada pra ninguem. era onde ela se encaixava melhor... era o que ela fazia antes quando ela ficava triste ou com raiva.
nunca chorava. por que entao agora parecia uma peneira? chorando a todo o tempo, aquele choro amargo que doi la no fundo? pqe se deixava magoar tao facilmente...
era tao melhor antes... quando ninguem havia derrubado suas paredes e a deixado vulneravel.
quarta-feira, 6 de abril de 2011
Não sei como começar. Na verdade, nem deveria estar aqui... Mas há tanto tempo que eu não sinto o impulso e a necessidade de extravasar publicamente meus sentimentos que eu não pude resistir. Estou exausta! Mentalmente e fisicamente. Acho que nunca estive tão saturada na minha vida. Corro de um lado para o outro, sem conseguir descansar e não é o suficiente. Sempre tem alguma coisa faltando. As olheiras já estão se tornando permanentes. Meus olhos lacrimejam o dia inteiro e meu corpo inteiro dói de exaustão. Era para ser agradável... A sensação de não desperdiçar o meu tempo e fazer um bilhão de coisas. Mas estou me sentindo frustrada.Quanto mais eu faço, mais eu corro, mais tenho pra fazer e mais as pessoas me cobram. Não vou me assustar se eu parecer uma noiva cadáver no meu casamento. Nesse ritmo eu estarei com olheiras escuras e magra vestindo o vestido mais lindo que alguém já viu.
sábado, 5 de março de 2011
Quando o último soluço passou e a última lágrima secou, ela se levantou para olhar no espelho.
Continuou a olhar sua imagem, tentando entender o que estava errado ali. Dirigiu-se lentamente até a cozinha e pegou um comprimido, daqueles que te derruba quase instantaneamente. Tomou, voltou para o quarto e se deitou.
Assim ela dormiria um sono tranquilo. Um sono sem sonhos.
segunda-feira, 28 de fevereiro de 2011
Parachute
(Ingrid Michaelson)
I don't tell anyone about the things that we have planned
I won't tell anybody, Won't tell anybody
They wanna push me down, they wanna see you fall down
I won't tell anybody that you turn the world around
I won't tell anybody that your voice is my favorite sound
I won't tell anybody, Won't tell anybody
They wanna see us fall, they wanna see us fall down
I don't need a parachute, baby if I've got you
Baby if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)
Don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night
And, you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight
Just hold onto me, I'll hold onto you
It's you and me up against the world, it's you and me
I don't believe anything, don't trust anyone but me
But I believe you when you say were never gonna fall
Hand behind my neck, arm around my waist
Never let me hit the ground, you'll never let me crash
I don't need a parachute, baby if I've got you
Baby if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)
[ Ingrid Michaelson Lyrics are found on www.dapslyrics.com ]
I don't need a parachute, baby if I've got you
Baby if I've got you, I don't need a parachute
You're gonna catch me, You're gonna catch if I fall (Down, down, down)
I won't fall out of love
segunda-feira, 21 de fevereiro de 2011
As I read the lines of that book compulsively , I started remembering what it felt like to forget yourself and surrender to the magic of a book.
It felt so good to spend a whole day reading again. Some people might call that waste of time, but to me, it was much better than doing many other things.
I could relate so easily to the main character. More than anyone could possibly imagine. It was like she was me, and the author had changed tiny bits just to make it more interesting.
It was funny how I could feel her own emotions as I swept through the pages of that book.
And how in love I was with him. EC.
sábado, 19 de fevereiro de 2011
Olha, eu tenho um problema muito sério. seríssimo, eu diria. Toas as vezes que eu começo a olhar fotos e ler diários antigos, eu fico nostágica. Acho que não existe ninguém mais nostálgica do que eu no mundo.
Hoje eu tava pensando nas coisas que a gente passa... A infância, a adolescência, os amores, as conquistas, o amadurecimento... Como o tempo é traiçoeiro. Ele passa sem que a gente veja. Quando a gente vê, aquela fase passou. Puff. Já era.
Me lembro quando era criança e não entendia o que era passado. E minha amiga flaou "5 minutos atrás já é passado. Tudo antes disso é passado". E passado pra mim significava tanto. Eu ficava olhando o relógio, pra ver passar os tais 5 minutos pra dizer que o passado tinha acontecido.
Agora eu queria que o passado não existisse. Queria poder reviver tudo. Cada dia, cada fase... Mudar algumas coisas, mas deixar outras exatamente como foram.
É assustador pensar que vou me casar daqui a pouco. Sei que já falie disso... mas pensar nessa nova fase é como me despedir da minha vida agora. Minha vida de solteira, minha adolescência, minha irresponsabilidade, meu desajeito...
Queria poder apertar um botão pra reviver certos momentos... Rever certas pessoas.. Voltar a certos lugares.
Ah, como seria bom...
domingo, 26 de dezembro de 2010
2010 está acabando. Parece que foi ontem o Natal do ano passado..
Como não escrevo nada há quase 3 meses, pensei em aproveitar minha última oportunidade do ano para postar algumas coisas.
Esse natal foi o mais estranho de todos. Foi triste, na verdade. Além de não ter as tadições de sempre, foi meu último natal solteira. Não que passar o proximo natal casada seja uma coisa ruim... Mas é que o natal sempre foi a minha época preferida. Sabe aquelas mesmas tradições todo ano que vce tem desde pequena? Arrumar as árvores das casas das avós com os primos, pintar a janela da casa da vovó (pelo menos esse ano eu pintei), jantar dia 24 na vovó Pininha, abrir presentes.. Acordar dia 25 e achar um tanto de presentes na árvore, ir pra casa da vovó, almoçar lá, abrir mais presentes, ficar lá o dia todo, sem preocupações... Não teve nada disso esse ano. Quero dizer, não foi ruim. Mas não teve cara de natal; e como o ano acaba sem natal mais uma vez?
Acho que na verdade, o tempo tá passando rápido demais. E ao mesmo tempo que isso é bom, eu não quero aceitar isso. Dói pensar que essa fase da minha vida está chegando ao fim. Estou literalmente contando os dias para o início da próxima fase da minha vida, ao lado da pessoa que eu amo, a pessoa que eu escolhi para passar o resto da vida. É assustador, empolgante, desesperador, feliz e triste. Acho que agora minha ficha ta caindo.
Daqui pouco mais de 6 meses, eu vou ter que assumir minha vida, criar minhas próprias tradições... E eu vou sentir falta do agora. Mesmo com todas as partes ruins... Vou sentir falta de cada brincadeira, de cada momento, cada refeição em família.
Como mudei ao longo desse ano. Olha só, to aqui, na frente do computador chorando. Isso era tão difícil de acontecer.. Ultimamente sou a pessoa mais chorona do mundo. Não por ter motivos pra chorar, mas por que me permiti me envolver mais, sentir mais, viver mais. Amadureci um bocado, aprendi a lidar com certas coisas... estou aceitando mais responsabilidades, aprendendo o que significa ser responsável por aquilo que cativamos... Não é fácil. Mas é a melhor coisa do mudno.
2011 está chegando. Vai ser um ano "bombante"!! E eu mal posso esperar!
Que venha 2011 (:
Como não escrevo nada há quase 3 meses, pensei em aproveitar minha última oportunidade do ano para postar algumas coisas.
Esse natal foi o mais estranho de todos. Foi triste, na verdade. Além de não ter as tadições de sempre, foi meu último natal solteira. Não que passar o proximo natal casada seja uma coisa ruim... Mas é que o natal sempre foi a minha época preferida. Sabe aquelas mesmas tradições todo ano que vce tem desde pequena? Arrumar as árvores das casas das avós com os primos, pintar a janela da casa da vovó (pelo menos esse ano eu pintei), jantar dia 24 na vovó Pininha, abrir presentes.. Acordar dia 25 e achar um tanto de presentes na árvore, ir pra casa da vovó, almoçar lá, abrir mais presentes, ficar lá o dia todo, sem preocupações... Não teve nada disso esse ano. Quero dizer, não foi ruim. Mas não teve cara de natal; e como o ano acaba sem natal mais uma vez?
Acho que na verdade, o tempo tá passando rápido demais. E ao mesmo tempo que isso é bom, eu não quero aceitar isso. Dói pensar que essa fase da minha vida está chegando ao fim. Estou literalmente contando os dias para o início da próxima fase da minha vida, ao lado da pessoa que eu amo, a pessoa que eu escolhi para passar o resto da vida. É assustador, empolgante, desesperador, feliz e triste. Acho que agora minha ficha ta caindo.
Daqui pouco mais de 6 meses, eu vou ter que assumir minha vida, criar minhas próprias tradições... E eu vou sentir falta do agora. Mesmo com todas as partes ruins... Vou sentir falta de cada brincadeira, de cada momento, cada refeição em família.
Como mudei ao longo desse ano. Olha só, to aqui, na frente do computador chorando. Isso era tão difícil de acontecer.. Ultimamente sou a pessoa mais chorona do mundo. Não por ter motivos pra chorar, mas por que me permiti me envolver mais, sentir mais, viver mais. Amadureci um bocado, aprendi a lidar com certas coisas... estou aceitando mais responsabilidades, aprendendo o que significa ser responsável por aquilo que cativamos... Não é fácil. Mas é a melhor coisa do mudno.
2011 está chegando. Vai ser um ano "bombante"!! E eu mal posso esperar!
Que venha 2011 (:
domingo, 3 de outubro de 2010
My first love
(Camilla)
2 days ago, my boyfriend came to meet me at work and, as i gathered my things to leave, he saw me grabbing very carefully one of the copies I had of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. He made a face and asked ''that again?''. I simply said ''yes'', bracing myself for the reprehension that would certainly come next.
2 days ago, my boyfriend came to meet me at work and, as i gathered my things to leave, he saw me grabbing very carefully one of the copies I had of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. He made a face and asked ''that again?''. I simply said ''yes'', bracing myself for the reprehension that would certainly come next.
Just like my mom, dad, grandmother, friends, siblings, and everyone I knew, he thought I was wasting my time rereading one of my favourite books.
I was on my 90th time. Yes. ninetieth. I had read all the 7 Harry Potter books together 90 times. And nobody really understood what it was that appealed to me like that. Really, an orphan wizard who had survived a killing curse... Why did I find it that interesting?
So, last night, I watched JK Rowling's interview on Oprah. Even though I have never gotten close to know her, and she doesn't even know I exist, I just felt so much love and gratitude towards her.
That woman earned every dime she got.
And I don't speak only for her wild imagination and capacity of description and turning the most ordinary things turn into the most extraordinary.
To me, a good writer is someone who makes the readers dive into the books and live and feel every emotion written in there. She manage to do that in a way that s goes beyond description.
I am going to share my experience reading those amazing books.
I first started when I was 9 or 10. My dad had bought the first 3 or 4 books, which were the ones that were out, and told me to read the first one.
I had always been fascinated by reading, so I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the first one and swam in its pages. It took me a while to read the whole book. Honestly, I didn't LOVE it, at first. I liked it enough to want to know the rest of the story.
So I started reading the second one. I couldn't go through the 1st chapter. I started it once, twice, three times, four and gave up.
Soon after that, the first movie was released. As I watched it, I remembered how wonderful that world was. As a child, that was a completely different and possible world. So, excited for the second movie to come out, I grabbed the Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and forced myself to read the first chapter. After that, I fell in love with the story. It was just fantastic.
When I was done with the second book, I quickly started the third one. My dad had only just started the fourth and I said to him ''You'd better hurry, dad. I'll want to read that one as soon as I finish The Prisoner of Azkaban." So we made a bet. If I finished reading the whole book before he'd read 200 pages of the next one, I would read it first. But if he was already on page 200, I would have to wait till he was done.
I finished the whole book in 3 days, and my dad was still on the first chapter of The Goblet of Fire. It was late at night and I had to sneak into his room to grab the fourth book. It was by far the longest book I had ever read, but I read it so fast and so effortlessly, that when I was done, I was craving for more.
But the fifth book wouldn't come out for months. And even after it did, I would still have to wait for the Portuguese version. I was only eleven, after all, and I had just begun to read actual books in English. I wasn't ready for Harry Potter yet. So, as I waited I reread the 4 books that were already out.
Once, twice, three times each. My parents didn't care at first. They thought it was good that I was reading. And I still read other kinds of books, like Pollyana, o Diario de Anne Frank, Uma Rua como Aquela, A Princesinha...
In November of 2003, the Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was released. I could not wait to read it, but my dad couldn't buy it for me. My cousin got the book and when she was done reading it, she lent it to me. I read all the 702 pages in THREE days. 3 days. I am not even kidding. It was during my summer vacation, so I just spent all 72 hours reading. No sleep, no food, no anything, really.
Obviously, as soon as I finished the book, I wanted the next one. But I would have to wait for 2 years. Well, or one year and a half. It would come out in English in July of 2005, whereas in Portuguese, only 4 months later.
My aunt came to Brazil, bringing her third book in English, and I asked her if I could keep it for a while, to try and read it. At first, I couldn't understand much. I didn't have enough vocabulary to read it. So I put it aside.
During this year and a half, I read all five books over and over again. When I had read the third one 5 times in Portuguese, I switched to the English version. It still wasn't easy. There were many words I didn't know and I have never been a big fan of dictionaries. But I pushed myself through those pages and when I was halfway through it, I could understand almost everything.
In July of 2005 I bought the sixth book in English, for I was unable to wait for the Portuguese one to come out.
The year of 2005 was when I turned 14 and started having some problems with my self-esteem, my relationships and I felt really insecure. Reading was a way I had found to forget my problems. It was so simple to me. Whenever something bad would happen, the only thing I had to do was grab a book and start reading. It was like taking a plane to go to a place very far away and live someone elses's life.
Throughout all of 2005 and 2006 I would read compulsevely, in order to escape. When I say compulsevely, I mean during class, during meals, during night. It got to a point where my dad had to forbid me to read. Has anyone ever heard of something like that? A father taking away his daughter's books so she wouldn't read anymore? That just drove me more insane. I went to my school library and got the fourth book. I even satayed longer at school - the school I hated more than anything else in the world - to read it. And when I was at home, I would hide in the bathroom to read it. Eventually my dad found out and after a long long fight, he gave in.
After that, as my life started falling into place and I went to a different school, I eased the addiction a little bit. I still couldn't go without it, but it was getting better. Well, I could not wait foe the sixth book in Portuguese, so I read the whole thing in English. I understood all of it. And as I waited for the seventh, I kept reading the 6 first books over and over.
Then the seventh one came out. My parents were in China, and they got it for me in English. When I held it, there was a mixture of feelings... I did not know whether I wanted to read it or not. After all that waiting and expectation, I couldn't bear the idea of Harry Potter being over. I read it slowly. Getting halfway through it and starting it again. Dying to know the end. It took me 4 months to be brave enough to do it and as I read the last words "all was well" I could feel the peace JK Rowling tried to pass over to her fans. After all those years, even though the books were finished, everything was fine. I'll admit I cried for a long long time, thinking of never being able to wait for another book to come out.
But as I reread them, it feels like I am reading them for the first time. Feeling all the emotions in there, living the expectations, the mistery, the pain...
And all is well.
terça-feira, 28 de setembro de 2010
Goodbye, Jake.
(Stephenie Meyer)
There was just enough time for me to quiet the sobs - hold them back but not end them. The tears didn't slow. I couldn't seem to find any handle to even begin to work on those.
"What happened to you?"
I must look worse than I'd imagined.
"Nothing, Dad. I... just had to talk to Jacob about... some things that were hard. I'm fine"
"Was this really the best time?" He asked.
"Probably not, Dad, but I didn't have any alternatives - it just got to the point where I had to choose... Sometimes, there isn't any way to compromise."
He shook his head slowly. "How did he handle it?"
I didn't answer.
He looked at my face for a minute and then nodded. That must have been answer enough.
"I hope you didn't mess up his recovery."
"He's a quick healer", I mumbled.
"He's a quick healer", I mumbled.
Charlie sighed.
I could feel the control slipping.
"I'll be in my room."
And I realized that I'd been wrong all along about the magnets. It had not been Edward and Jacob that I'd been trying to force together, it was the two parts of myself, Edward's Bella and Jacob's Bella. But they could not exist together, and I never should have tried.
I'd done so much damage.
At some point in the night, I remembered the promise I'd made to myself early this morning - that I would never make Edward see me shed another tear for Jacob Black. The thought brought on a round of hysteria which frightened Edward more than the weeping. But it passed, too, when it had run its course.
Edward said little; he just held me on the bed and let me ruin his shirt, staining it with salt water.
It took longer than I thought it would for that smaller, broken part of me to cry herself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. Unconsciousness did not bring full relief from the pain, just a numbing, dulling ease, like medicine. Made it more bearable. But it was still there; I was aware of it, even asleep, and that helped me to make the adjustments I needed to make.
The morning brought with it, if not a brighter outlook, as least a measure of control, some acceptance. Instinctively, I knew that the new tear in my heart would always ache. That was just going to be a part of me now. Time would make it easier - that's what everyone always said. But I didn't care if time healed me or not, so long as Jacob could get better. Could be happy again.
When I woke up, there was no disorientation. I opened my eyes - finally dry - and met his anxious gaze.
"Hey," I said. My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat.
He didn't answer. He watched me, waiting for it to start.
"No, I'm fine," I promised. "That won't happen again."
His eyes tightened at my words.
"I'm sorry that you had to see that," I said. "That wasn't fair to you."
He put his hands on either side of my face.
"Bella . . . are you sure ? Did you make the right choice? I've never seen you in so much pain -" His voice broke on the last word.
I touched his lips. "Yes."
"I don't know. . . ." His brow creased. "If it hurts you so much, how can it possibly be the right thing for you?"
"Edward, I know who I can't live without."
"But . . ."
I shook my head. "You don't understand. You may be brave enough or strong enough to live without me, if that's what's best. But I could never be that self-sacrificing. I have to be with you. It's the only way I can live."
He still looked dubious. I should never have let him stay with me last night. But I had needed him so much. . . .
"Hand me that book, will you?" I asked, pointing over his shoulder.
His eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but he gave it to me quickly.
"This again?" he asked.
"I just wanted to find this one part I remembered . . . to see how she said it. . . ." I flipped through the book, finding the page I wanted easily. The corner was dog-eared from the many times I'd stopped here. "Cathy's a monster, but there were a few things she got right," I muttered. I read the lines quietly, mostly to myself. "'If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.'" I nodded, again to myself. "I know exactly what she means. And I know who I can't live without."
Edward took the book from my hands and flipped it across the room - it landed with a light thud on my desk. He wrapped his arms around my waist.
A small smile lit his perfect face, though worry still lined his forehead. "Heathcliff had his moments, too," he said. He didn't need the book to get it word perfect. He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, "'I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!'"
"
Yes," I said quietly. "That's my point."
domingo, 12 de setembro de 2010
Midnight Sun
(Stephenie Meyer)
It was odd how endearing her anger was. Like a furious kitten, soft and harmless, and so unaware of her own vulnerability
Just like a kitten that believes it's a tiger.
It was odd how endearing her anger was. Like a furious kitten, soft and harmless, and so unaware of her own vulnerability
Just like a kitten that believes it's a tiger.
sexta-feira, 27 de agosto de 2010
R.I.P. Frenesi
Estou de luto.
Ainda não aceito entrar no http://frenesibr.blogspot.com/ e ver a msg
O blog que você estava procurando não foi encontrado.
Não sei o que vou fazer sem o meu blog de cabeceira. =/
quinta-feira, 19 de agosto de 2010
Today was a fairytale
(By Milla)
Levantou-se e se conformou. Fora um sonho. Uma coisa completamente irreal. Não adiantava ficar pensando naquilo. Não era hora, é claro. Era tão nova. Foi fazer o que tinha que fazer, tentando ocupar sua mente com coisas mais concretas. Afinal, isso não importava, não era? Ela não devia ficar aliviada de ter sido apenas um sonho? Ela era diferente da maior parte das garotas de sua idade - da maior parte das garotas de qualquer idade, na verdade. Qual é o dia mais sonhado por toda menina? O dia que todas mais esperam, o dia em que elas ganham o ''felizes para sempre'' que tanto sonharam? Mas ela não era assim.
De fato, ela era o contrário. Ela nunca fantasiara sobre o dia do seu casamento. Ela tinha outros planos. Aquilo seria apenas um detalhe. Se casar para quê?, ela pensava. Atar sua vida a de outra pessoa, perder toda a liberdade, possivelmente fazer sacrificios, ficar cozinhando e passando para um homem que provavelmente nem reconheceria metade do seu esforço? Por que alguém iria querer isso?
Ela tinha outros planos. Se formar, viajar, estudar fora, aprender várias linguas, morar 5 anos na Europa, escrever, escrever e escrever (mesmo que ninguém fosse ler nada do que ela escrevesse), conhecer outras pessoas, várias culturas, ser bem sucedida na vida profissional e academica, ser independente, não dever satisfação a ninguém... Depois, quem sabe, se a vida lhe apresentasse a oportunidade, ela se casaria, teria filhos, constituiria uma familia...
Mas de repente, esses seus planos foram colocados em espera.
Ela não havia excluido a possibilidade de stick with it. Mas ela sabia que se ela continuasse no caminho que ela tomara, ele a levaria a uma outra vida, completamente diferente. Ela se casaria cedo, faria mil sacrifícios, estudaria e trabalharia para poder contruir uma vida com seu marido e logo, teria filhos, teria que sacrificar muito de sua vida profissional para se dedicar a eles. Era uma perspectiva assustadora. Ela tinha medo, muito medo de tudo aquilo. Então ela não deveria ficar desapontada de aquilo ter sido apenas um sonho. Devia suspirar aliviada.
Mas não suspirou. Tentou esquecer, apenas. Mas aquilo martelava na sua cabeça ainda.
2 dias depois seu namorado a buscou em casa para levá-la para jantar. Mas quem a levou de volta para casa foi seu noivo. E, mesmo sabendo de tudo em que aquilo implicava, mesmo que aquilo não fosse o que ela havia planejado anos antes, ela não podia parar de sorrir.
E, como as outras meninas, ela mal podia esperar para o seu ''felizes para sempre''.
domingo, 15 de agosto de 2010
segunda-feira, 9 de agosto de 2010
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