Spaceship

Did I tell you how many times I think about you in one day???  I guess more times than the clock is moving. From the 60,000 thoughts the regular people has in a day around 59,990 go to you... and if I drink coffee they double!!!! Around 30% to see how smart you were in the version I knew, about your stories, your life, your trouble. I have so many thoughts on how beautiful you were in the past and how happy and challenging times they were. How my memory has been used to construct you. Around 30% more go to imagine how fantastic and different you should be now, with all the things you should have learned. How wonderful your stories would be, how amazing human being you became or how cute will sound your new accent tones mixed. The last 30% more are divided between the force of those eyes, the joy of your smile, the perfection of your nose and the delicacy of the rest of you. Yes, I'm thinking about the tone of your skin, the delirium in your hips and the a...

You have to make reserves. In the end, these moments will come. It's inevitable. In the end, you cannot be empty. You have to keep something. It's cowardliness,  you would say. It's not fair, can also be argued. It's not complete. You just have to give everything. You have to give the rest, die in the line. And what happen after you're dead. You reached the line, and you gave everything. It was constructed and accomplished or not, there's always tomorrow. What's next?? Living on reserves by now. 

I just need... to feel your skin,  to hear your voice,  to feel your hair,  to talk to your left ear,  to kiss your face,  to admire your eyes,  to get lost in your lips,  to get lost in the perfection of your nose,  to hear your voice,  to close your eyes,  to talk to the other ear,  to feel the bones of your back,  to count your vertebrae,  to touch your shoulders and  to get crazy with that perfume...  and if I make a huuuuge effort, I can do it in 2 hours and 59 minutes per day.

I tried in thousand languages, I tried to avoid the mistakes. I tried up and down, also in inverse. I tried to read it twice, I tried another platform, I tried word by word and I tried the Rubicon. I tried decomposition I tried grammar review I tried google translator I did an interview. They all say the same They're all the words I like I'm starting to panic I'm gonna freak it out. You said 'I love you too.' You the girl of  all my dreams You actually said you care And you just used light green What's this world now What is all about What the exercise of language What I need to take away the doubt I don't know what's the answer now I don't know what to do I'm not sure if the sun will rise tomorrow But you said I love you too Good old times... one day soon

I need you, and I don't want to need you... I miss you, and I don't want to miss you. I want you to play and to dance with me to hug me and to see your smile here and there. I want you and don't want to want you. You're that, and you're not here.

I asked a poet to write about you, in the middle of London, next to the river. It was announced he could write anything on paper, at any rate, all the times I wanted. I told him who you were. I used my best words to describe your soft and shiny hair. I spoke about the darkness of those eyes, the strength living in their colour and the power they have to look. I tried to detail the delicacy of your nose and the softness of your lips. And I stopped there and came back in the sensations you were provoking. I had no words for the miracle of your smile. It was automatic; it should be there. I went down to your neck, soft and clean, always smelling like the sweetest perfume that makes me feel lost. Then your shoulders, then your hands then your breast. I got crazy of telling him about the miracles living in the waist and the storms you provoke in your hips. And then I went on. And then I couldn't stop. Your legs, the way you walk and the incredible sensations you were producing...

Hoy también es el día de las madres de todos los demás. Hoy se puede convertir en la celebración de nuestro mejor apoyo o nuestra peor pesadilla. Hoy también es día de las madres que no quisieron a sus hijos, o de las que los quisieron de más hasta convertirse en sus peores pesadillas, o en reflejos exactos de sus parejas, o en el terror de las parejas. Hoy también es el día de las mujeres que los usaron para beneficiarse de algo, de las que los golpeaban o de las que decidieron que cualquier otra cosa era más importante (un hombre, una profesión, otra familia). Hoy es día de las madres para los niños huérfanos o de madres que se han perdido en la droga o el alcohol.  Hoy también es día de las madres para todos los demás... 

Te quiero... y luego qué? Ya sabía que tú sabías, ya sabía que tú sentías, sabía que éramos de nosotros mismos. Pero qué sigue después? Para qué sirve decirlo?  Te quiero tanto como te he querido siempre, tal vez cada segundo un poco más. Desde el primer momento que vi tus ojos en el corredor, desde el primer instante que te quedaste en mi sonrisa.  Te quiero y no entiendo para qué sirve, cómo funciona, a dónde nos va a llevar. Que te quiero y que me quieres eso está seguro. Pero que lo escribas no quitará el frío de las noches. No va a parar esta ansiedad de saber que no estás. Saber que me quieres no se ha llevado mis miedos, no ha borrado esta frívola costumbre de perder días y noches pensando en ti. Ni aún seguro de que hay algo que no se aleja si te vas. No han transformado tus palabras ni uno de mis alientos, no he podido hacer algo útil del amor. Saber que me quieres me está destrozando. Me gustaba más el hombre que decías que no querías, con el que no existía posibilid...

It had to end. Like the river sweeps the stones, the time wears everything out. It drags the good moments and uses the tears to clean the bad ones. In the end, everything is over. And finishing is part of flourishing. It's the life cycle one more time. But for sure nothing is the same as time goes by. Beginning again is never giving the same results because we are not able to recognise ourselves, we have just changed. That's the flush of good experiences too. I'm sure it was incredible, and I won't have another fantastic time like that, but like everything, it is over and time passed by. And despite what the river had dropped, and besides all the waste is needed to be cleaned. The remainings are close to what we are, and the residuals are part of what it should be gone. We can be just ourselves, you stated disappointed the last night I saw you. Nothing more we need, I said after that.