Thursday, April 10, 2008

I remember how was like to start the adventure. THE adventure. Turning my back to everything, the only things that were capable of making me feel safe. My home, the few friends I keep keeping through the years, the family that was sad for letting me go, but proud at the same time; because someone capable of making such a move it's sort of a hero. What I haven't told them is that I never went away because I'm an adventurer, but because there were some questions I was questing, of fear, of death.

At the time I was bringing death inside me in form of fear. The fear that covered my skin was my mask for the long months that would come, and the mask that would fall out near the end, near the time to get the train back. At that time I felt loved. Loved and missed by my friends and people I knew that once and again were telling me I was deeply missed. But I felt loved by my family most of all. It seem to me their days couldn't just go on without me. They couldn't live without me, or they could but without the freedom, because the baby wasn't in here. And I felt alive, because every single day I was living a new dream, every single day I could be what I am without being tired of walking because there was no far away there, no fear, no death.

I was waiting to see you to realize she left forever. Because I cried listening you crying. But there's was no clear impact. I couldn't feal much more than an empty hole on the knowledge of the living people. But she was gone, and I felt in one side sadness, because I wanted to be there, here, and pride for being strong enough for letting me stay there, or acceptance for not being able to do nothing more.

But until now she's here. I can't let her go, because I wasn't here to hold her hand one last time, or to see her die, or to see her saying goodbye. All I have is one letter, capable of being more immortal than one single moment, but it can't really touch my skin, and heart, and soul.

So she's here, still. On a last letter.

And I felt wanted when I was there. On a classroom I felt loved, I felt I could be there forever, because my sisters said how much I was missed, the laugh on the corners of the house, my smile, and a dark room with a movie on the laptop. And my mom, she was always so caring and she loved me there, more than she can show now.

Now in here, nobody gives me value. I'm just back to stay. I'm real again, and so what I was I will never be again. Loved, cared, missed in fantasy, in distance, in soul.