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Put the suff together

Facebook, Feb 28, 2016

How can I finish missing you?

I’ve thought of the ways that I can finish missing you. It’s not that declaring one morning that it is over, that missing you is not worth anymore. That there’s no profit, no sense and no time to lose you. And you reinforce this idea with the tons of defects that I can find you anytime; you can be rude, disrespectful and annoying. It’s not like subtracting one big portion of the earth and let it go to space. Like shut down the stars and make the moon quite more opaque. It’s not changing the colour of the sky or reversing the way the rivers go. Missing you is not a physical phenomenon or chemical reaction. It’s doable.
And then you realise that the surface of her skin is like the one of the earth. That is soft and imperfect; that has plenty elevations in the right places and depressions with exciting mysteries. That you remember every route of her veins as the infinite map of happiness and that you dreamed with the very exact location of her moles and freckles as unexplored points in the infiniteness of one person. And then you get to the stars in her eyes, and you remember that you have never felt how the light feels until seeing her eyes, and you always see a different image projected in that makes you believe that rabbits can inhabit the moon, and her eyes are reflections of the universe.
After all of that, you think that any physical phenomenon is irrelevant, that she’s the explanation of movement, time, cold and warm. That chemistry is a waste of time if you have never felt her lips and smelled her hair and mathematics are useless after the chaos she represents. The universe is infinite only when you definitively know one person. And it’s a waste of time to stop missing.

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Dear JC, It's peculiar, isn't it, how the mind clings to memories, especially those we wish to forget? Some nights, I find myself ensnared in a web of dreams, each thread woven with echoes of you. You, who dominated my thoughts, still reign in the kingdom of my nighttime musings. I remember, with an unsettling clarity, every encounter, every word, and every smirk. The way your laughter would echo down hallways, a haunting melody that played on all my strings. The cold glint in your eyes as you found new ways to assert your dominance, your power, unyielding and absolute. In these dreams, I revisit those days, each detail meticulously preserved in the museum of my mind. The corridors, once mundane, now seem like twisted labyrinths in my dreams, with you as the ever-present Minotaur, both feared and revered. Sometimes, I wonder if you ever think of those days. Do you ever recall the weight of your words and actions? Or have they dissolved into the ether, insignificant and forgotte...