Escribir de lo que no se debe hablar

He pasado demasiado tiempo pensándolo. Tal vez ha sido la última idea complicada que ha vivido en mi cabeza. Tal vez es demasiado para algo que no se debe hablar. No te culpo ni menos me culpo a mí, pero me mata lo que no se debe hablar.

Quisiera no haber sentido lo que no se puede hablar. Quisiera no pensarlo los sábados por la tarde. Recordar tus ojos, sentir tus labios, encontrar la delicia en algo que nunca pensé podría pasar. Quisiera no tener que preguntar qué sentido tenía hacerlo y qué ha pasado por tu cabeza después. Quisiera no conocer qué has sentido tú.

Pero de pronto llegan cosas más arriesgadas a mi mente. De esas tampoco se puede hablar. Has pensado en repetirlo? Yo lo pensé la mañana después, hay días en que no se puede olvidar. Incluso encontré una forma: podemos fingir un accidente, podemos si quieres, no hablar. Para que hacer que pase estaremos ocupados, pero quién sabe, vale la pena intentar.

Qué pasaría después tampoco debemos hablar. Sólo quisiera que pase de nuevo, tal vez sólo por intentar.

En mi vida hay muchas cosas que me matan, unas más rápido que otras aunque de ellas no debiera tampoco callar.

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