"Buongirorno principessa!"

- La Vita è bella. 

CARTA A MÍ MISMA

Querida yo,

Hace tiempo que huyes de uno de tus problemas más antiguos y profundos. Camuflas en él las mil cosas que te pasan y que crees que no es culpa tuya (tal vez no lo sea). Pero ya es hora de empezar a cambiar todo esto. Fíjate que todo, en el fondo, se reduce siempre a lo mismo: tu opinión sobre ti. ¿Por qué?, te preguntarás. Pues bien es simple: porque no ves lo que puedes llegar a ser, lo que ya eres. 

Es decir, el día en que confíes en ti y tengas una buena opinión de ti no volverás a llorar de rabia, no volverás a enfadarte tanto por orgullo, no dejarás en manos de otros tu propia valentía o felicidad. Y resulta que el día es hoy. 

Créetelo. No pasará nada. Créete que vales la pena. Créete que es verdad que eres un poco especial, créete que puedes conseguir lo que quieras, créete que hay gente que te ve guapa, créete que tu cuerpo es digno de que lo deseen, créete que le importas a los demás, créete que lo que escribe tu pluma es bonito. Créete que lo que haces tiene mérito, créete que te quieren; créete que tus problemas también son importantes.

Pero sobretodo, créete que eres, igual que todos, humana y que te equivocas y que la perfección NO existe (además, es muy aburrida).

Hazlo de una vez.

Y puedes decírtelo tú misma. No pasa nada. Y deja de tener miedo de los que critican a tus espaldas, porque ahí es donde se van a quedar.

Te quiero,

yo. (Quiérete tú también)

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LETTER TO MYSELF

Dear me,
It's been a long time you've been running away from one of your older and deeper troubles. You hide in it hundreds of things that happen to you, and you don't like; you think it is not your fault (maybe it isn't). It's time to begin changing all these. Have you realized that, actually, it's always the same? Your oppinion about yourself. Why?, you may ask. Well, it's simple: you can't see what you could be, what you already are.
The day you trust yourself and have a better opinion about you, you won't cry again for such things, you won't feel your pride hurted, you won't let others have the power of owning your courage or hapiness.

Believe it. It is okay, darling. Believe you that you're worth it. Believe it is true you are a bit special, believe you can get whatever you want, believe that there are people who think you're pretty, believe your body is beautiful as it is, believe others care about you, too. Believe what you write is nice. Believe that what you do is worth it, believe others love you; believe that your problems are also important.

But above all, believe that you are, like everyone, human and you can make mistakes and that perfection does not exist (and it's boring).

Do it. It is okay. And you can tell that to yourlself. Stop being afraid of people who critizise behind  your back, because there's where they belong.

I love you,
me. (you should love you too) 

“Hold me close, like I’m the Sun to your Moon. Hold me in your heart”.- Josh Radin.

La historia de amor más triste de todas es la del Sol y la Luna. ¿No os habéis parado nunca a pensar por qué el Sol revoluciona el cielo cada vez que desaparece? Y es cierto, nunca ha existido un amor más puro y terrible que el de estos dos astros. Día y noche, luz y oscuridad, alegría y tristeza. Como siempre, es ella la que lo echa de menos, pero es él quien se pone rojo cuando ella pasea su blanca presencia por el cielo. Fueron los primeros en enamorarse y como todo amor adolescente fue rápido y el más intenso.

El sol estaba de guardia ese día dando vueltas alrededor de los planetas por si alguno necesitaba su luz, cuando se reparó en ella. No era más que una masa gris y con huecos profundos que cuando se cruzaron se iluminó como por arte de magia, él quedó enamorado al instante y ella quería seguirlo para no dejar de brillar. Pero no fue así de fácil: la Tierra, madre imparcial y con el corazón de piedra (ardiente, en el fondo), le prohibió tal cosa, sabiendo que si se acercaba demasiado se iba a quemar. Por más que la Luna insistía, su protectora le negó que escapara y la ató a su alrededor ordenándole girar en torno a ella y permitiéndole solo una vez al mes visitar a su amado (¿dónde creéis que anda la Luna cuando no está en el cielo?). Ella lloró tanto que sus lágrimas cayeron encima la Tierra, que pasó a llamarse el planeta azul porque tres cuartas partes de él eran agua, salada; como las lágrimas.

Y es por esta razón que el Sol enrojece al ver salir a la Luna cada atardecer, cada mañana al verla marchar se enamora de nuevo y llora su ausencia, dejando sus lágrimas en las hojas y flores que intentan consolarlo inútilmente.

¿Cuántos amores perdidos ha visto llorar la Luna? ¿Por qué la gente la mira y suspira y se pone a escribir sus pensamientos más tristes? ¿Por qué la hora más oscura es la de antes del amanecer? ¿Por qué todos nos quedamos mirando las puestas de Sol, intentando entender el mensaje de amor con el que el Sol recibe a la Luna? Por qué. Por qué. Los enamorados lo saben, los que han amado, también. Ellos dos son los primeros y últimos, para siempre, los que inventaron la poesía. “Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.” Neruda no nos contó que fue la Luna quien le susurró estas palabras, amante sabia y perturbada, libre y rodeada de estrellas en medio de la oscuridad.

My stork’s possible oversight

Hey you, yes, the one reading this. I'm feeling very sorry about what happened between us. We used to laugh all day and now we barely talk. What did go wrong? I know it was my fault first, I know that I screwed up a second time but, how can you think that I did all these because I didn’t love you enough? I am a disaster, and I thought you already knew that. Because I don’t know what to do when someone gets angry with me... I just don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t born with that information inside me, or perhaps the stork that brought me here had some trouble during the trip and I fell down the clouds, who knows.

But I swear I was just trying to do things properly. I guess I am not good at that. I DO want to end with this fight.

A friend is someone who‘s there when things go wrong and when things go smoothly, someone you don’t need to be with every time but knows when you need him/her. And yes, I needed you when I was passing through that black tunnel, and yes, you tried to be there. But I was so fucked I didn’t want to bother you with my troubles, so I didn’t tell you about. (And, who cared about my problems, indeed. I felt like NO ONE did.)  I thought I was not worth your attention. I felt nothing. You know what guys? NEVER let someone make you feel inferior. Nobody has the right to make you feel this, unless you let them. I repeat: NO ONE. (All right?) I don’t care if he is your soul mate, I don’t care if is one of your siblings or your best friend; remember these four words no matter what: you are worth it.

The problem was mine; I hope you now can see it. And I beg your pardon for being rude or lying about how I felt. And I want us to be friends again.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

"Amor es como un humo que se forma
con el aliento fiel de los suspiros.
Si se le vivifica, es como un fuego
que en los ojos amantes resplandece.
Humillado, semeja un mar crecido
con el llanto de los enamorados.
¿Y qué más? Es cuerdísima locura,
hiel que oprime, dulzor que reconforta."
- Romeo y Julieta, William Shakespeare.




A tu lado, era primavera en invierno y ahora que te has ido, es invierno en primavera. Todo lo  que me rodea me lleva a ti: los parques, las flores, el viento, el polvo que se lleva y te hace llorar y los martes que sabían a domingos. Y me doy cuenta de que tú y yo fuimos como la primavera: de golpe, sin pensar, te la encuentras en la esquina y cuando quieres saludarla ya se ha ido.

Fuimos como el árbol de esa esquina, de camino a la estación, que florece de repente y es precioso, pero ¿sabes cuánto tiempo dura? Una semana. E incluso cuando acaban de caerse todas flores es bonito el rastro que deja, pero ya no es, sino que era. Los dos cogimos el mismo tren, tú bajaste en Gracia y yo en casa: ocho paradas más tarde que si las doblas dos veces son los meses que llevo pensándote cada día. Y todas las-

Noches en las que me encuentro con sonrisas que te has olvidado en tu lado derecho de la cama, perdidas entre caricias y te quieros susurrados con demasiados besos y poco tiempo -como siempre-. Aunque ese lado ya no sea tuyo. Creo que podrías volver algún día a recogerlos, ¿sabes? ya no los quiero. Ya no quiero tus mentiras disfrazadas de excusas, ni tus textos prometiéndome el mundo, ni que me llames princesa, ni que me pidas que te bese, ni tampoco recordarte. Porque mis ganas de ti están ya muy quemadas, aunque puede que queden brasas aún. Si cojo la ceniza y la soplo, desaparece como si nunca hubiese estado ahí, pero cuando mis lágrimas lloran y la mojan se vuelve negra; tan negra como mi vida cuando decidiste marcharte -la primera vez.

Y supongo que por eso me vuelven loca las flores, las pongo en todas partes y les doy todo el cariño que tú te llevaste. Porque me recuerdan a ti, y a mí, y a lo que fuimos. No solo las pongo en todas partes, sino que cuando se marchitan no las dejo morir sin más, guardo sus pétalos entre las páginas en blanco del libro que nunca terminaremos de escribir. Y allí está la diferencia entre tú y yo: quise guardarte como mis flores y hacerte infinito entre las páginas de nuestros días, sin saber que volver atrás no sirve para nada cuando ya sabes el final del capítulo.

Y ayer al volver nevaban pétalos blancos de las acacias junto a mi casa, como burlándose de mí. Recordándome que mis esperanzas en ti estaban junto con esa alfombra de flores: en el suelo. 

A veces no hay segundas oportunidades; y para nosotros, cariño, ni quintas ni sextas ya. Tal vez, vaya siendo hora de dejar de tropezarse con la misma piedra.

LETTER TO SOMEONE

"The trouble is, you think you have time"- Budha.

Well, it sometimes happens to me. When I’m with other people and I feel like no one cares about this. And with this I mean anything, people can’t see through what we are getting ourselves into. I wanna do things right again, you know? Like in the forgotten times. I just hold that we took the wrong path.

When I got up this morning the first thing that popped into my head was: “I have to study”... kind of sad. But as I want to see it, I’m pursuing my dreams, simply as Will Smith told me one day. “Hey. Don't ever let somebody tell you... You can't do something. Not even me. All right? You got a dream... You gotta protect it. People can't do something themselves, they’re gonna tell you: you can't do it. If you want something, go get it. Period.” All right, I told to myself, let’s do this. And I’m trying to, I swear. But it is not that simple, of course it isn’t. You get up at 6 am in the morning and start school at eight, after six hours of class (which you try to be interested in) you return home and have lunch; and then you have to study and do your homework and when you finish (if you can), guess what, it’s time for dinner. WAIT. I’m a teenager, I have a list of stuff I’m going to do and I can’t even cross out one during all the school year. I want to get lost one day and walk until I find myself, see what makes me feel full; I want to see the daybreak and twilight and paint it somewhere with all that amazing different colours that the Sun love to bring us before saying goodbye or saluting the Moon; I want to look up at the sky full of stars at night and know I am doing what I love; I want to stay up to the break of day writing something beautiful; I want to get up one day, pick a bag and travel to new amazing places and experience new things; I want to learn to play properly an instrument; I want to be in love with my life and get excited about the stupid things; I want to live life, not seeing it pass through my bedroom’s window while I am sitting in front of my desk.

And people tell me that I will be able to do this during summer, that now I have to study. NO. They are wrong, and you know why? Because when in achieving something you love, what takes up more time is the journey and if you finally get it, victory is mayfly. What really will mark your personality and your way of seeing things is what you do in the road. And that is utterly important, because life isn’t the way it is supposed to be, is the way it is. And it’s 10% what happens to you and 90% how you cope with it, which makes the difference. And that is what I’ve been somehow trying to explain to you: people have become listless with life and this way, we are walking towards a black hole that will end up swallowing all our desires. When was the last time you did something new, something you had willing to do for a long time? You see? You can barely remember. And this is what I see: teenagers with surrounded dreams, without faith and without even thinking of getting up and fighting for them. What happened here, guys? Who did this? I’ll tell you, society did this. They want us to think that you are not worth it, if you don’t have a great image, wear fashion clothes, are in great shape or have the newest gadget in the market. TV series, adds, movies let us think that getting what you want is easy with stupid short sequences that show someone who gets it at the first time, without even sweating; this is not reality, just fiction. What we really need to know is that before you get something, you will probably have to go through twelve different oceans, drowning in everyone of them and before water fills your lungs you have to be able to get strength from the inside and keep swimming, because it’s just you going this way and you who wanted this and you who will get to shore save and sound. And the most important thing, failing is part of the journey, what is more: if you find resistance, you are probably doing the right thing.

When you are different from the stereotype that society invented, self-esteem sometimes fades away. And then when you try something and fall at the first time, you think you are a looser. You are not! You are amazing, you are searching for your dreams, don’t quit. And please try to be different from everyone else, what’s the point of being like the rest? There’s no point.

It’s time to begin changing all these. Time to show the very best you have, to live without regrets, to stop living in the past (which leads to nowhere, because you can’t re write the end), to start something and end it, to do things with all your heart, to do what you feel and forget about what other people could gossip about it, to fall in love with one special person who also wants to give it all. To write each other letters again, to realize that what really matters is other’s feelings and not how many what’s app do you have. Just because you live in a space of time where receiving a good morning text is the most romantic thing, you have to forget what is like to look at someone and knowing that above all, he/she wants you because of your personality, in spite of your beauty, money, friends, etc. Time to start worrying about important things and forgetting about how many likes did you get on that photo or how many “friends” do you have on facebook. Come on, Am I the only one who sees this? Does someone still care? We’re teenagers; we’re supposed to run the world.

I needed to write these ideas somewhere. It has taken me two hours that I should have been studying but maybe, and just maybe, you could join me and we could start running to the bright side (even if it’s the opposite way) before it’s too late.

Love,

me.