IT HURT
Everything seems absurd to me, a gross lie. I am more and more lost and unsuccessfully looking outside and searching inside for a way out, a way to escape from this reality. Useless, my life hurts and I'm getting further away from him. Patience has long since run out. Tiredness is unbearable and without realizing it I fall and fall trying to hold on to something or someone to stop me before losing myself in the abyss. I can not anymore.
I am an accurate target in which he targets with his attacks and out-of-tones. I won't complain, Not everything is bad, boredom and routine have been imposed in our lives for some time and we no longer have any interest in arguing. The days and nights go by immersed in painful silences and an enormous indifference.
I fight to be, feeling that I am not. He is by my side, pulling down every one of my efforts to survive, reminding me in each of their looks that “I am not”. Techniques, books, exercises… my search has no end. I go blind and look up to the sky desperate, crying of pure sadness and with the feeling that this life passes me in white, that I won't be able to do what I came to do because I just don't know what it's about. And meanwhile, him by my side, as hurtful and unpleasant as ever. I try to make my life as best I can knowing that by his side I have little to live. I'm not looking forward to anything. I don't feel like hearing it or seeing it. We share the routine but I could share it with anyone. We don't love each other. I think he doesn't know, so much is the distance that separates us. And me, cowardice has overcome me, I only hope that another body in another life can finish what I have not been able to do in this. Maybe he hates me for that. I can't stand. I'm a fucking coward. I am satisfied with avoiding arguments and fights. The absence of conflict has become the objective to be met.
I try to get excited on my own and try to defend myself from life, of the misunderstandings that always accompany it and the hidden intentions that all existence contains. I haven't believed in what I see for a long time, I know that nothing is what it seems, that words hide mysterious intentions that I must unveil. As for him, I prefer to take him as a teacher than as an executioner. But it hurts.
Concepción Hernández. All rights reserved.