I Really Want Not To Think About You

I find myself in this tavern wondering how much I would be able to pay for oblivion. No clothes hurt, I would even sell them all and stay naked. It does not have to be colder than I feel now and the constipation would not force me to rest more than the pain that I keep in the space between the glass and my lips. Invisible and levitating.

It burns more than pure alcohol and keeps the deceptive hope of the pangs, like dripping on stone. I imagine two worlds separated by a huge cliff. In one you are and in the other you are not and I have the feeling that I cannot live in either of them.

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

This is how I met him, he was behind the bar and I was trying to find the ending to my novel. He thought that he was drowning sorrows and I put myself in the shoes of the character that I later imitated. Word by word, letter by letter.

In that character I locked up all my fears and the words that I used to caricature them, but they only served to make them escape through a place that I do not know. Now I find myself in another bar and with my heart broken into a thousand pieces, so small that they make me invisible.

I am like a cruel truth, someone to whom you would present the last one after having discarded all the ideas that have occurred to you so that you do not have to. To avoid having to reach that moment when everything explodes into the air and you realize that there is no going back.

Meanwhile, you try to find a way to tell everyone that the person you would have defended to the death until yesterday is no longer the same, and you cannot do it anymore because it is not the role that corresponds to you. It is thus, the reality little by little is imposing, it arrives like the waves to the beach and between high and high are the nights to think.

Without looking at the clock, I suddenly have the feeling that it is already very late and that the waiter who has started to clear the last tables is not going to be the inspiration for my next life.

However, a horrible laziness invades me. Walking home looking sideways at my back, opening the door, taking off my clothes and heating the cold sheets imposes an everyday life in my world that overwhelms me.

I pay with the laps of the day and go out to the street. It’s icy and slipping is easy. I see a lion drawn on a lighted sign and he asked me what I would do if one came to meet me now. Then I remember that I am invisible and could not do anything that mattered to me.

A voice inside me calls me a liar. The tears begin one by one to draw slides down my cheek. Thus, as I break the silence of the streets with my steps and recognize a piece of my heart as mine, I begin to fear the lion.

At the same time that I realize that life still has things to take away from me, I also achieve the certainty that there are those to live for.

Featured image courtesy of bruneiwska