Remember, and then, just forget it. Right?
And so it is. Or it was. I just don’t know nothing anymore. And there was such beauty in the world. I forgot what it meant to be “beautiful” and the days started to become grayer. And the more I tried to put some colors on it, I managed to give a red tone, anger red. So I decided to stop trying to have a colored version of my life.
I was wondering the other day, whether he feels the same way I do. Many things could be much simpler. But life is not simple. And it always keep turning away from where we wanted it to be. I guess it is just the way it was supposed to be. I mean, now I doubt if there is ‘something supposed to be’.
I looked inside his eyes, and there was nothing there. They were dead eyes. His smiled, but his eyes were not there anymore. I thought I could die in his arms. I thought we were going to be together forever. Together forever. What a joke! There were so many things I thought it would be. And suddenly, remembering all those things, silly things, I guess I am ready to go on my own now. But where to go in the middle of all of this? I cannot figure it out right now. I just want to go home, but home is not home. And his dead eyes in my head. I’d prefer his anger, rather this lifeless struggle.
Seven years ago, we were all so beautiful, and we were so much anxious about the life ahead. Some things could be different by then. I knew I could do some real life changing things, but I kept going, without thinking too much. I could apply for any college I wanted. I could turn into everything. And what I did not know by then is that the unknown future can change if you think about it. But the past is unchangeable. Unchangeable. It is so difficult to think about it.
Is there some life trying to come up in those eyes? Why bother now? It will be over soon. But it hurts a little. Okay, who am I trying to deceive? There is nothing more hurtful than those dead eyes. I am trying to cry, desperately. Maybe if I cry a little, if discrete tears come to my face, his eyes might show me something. But to cry is so difficult. I am desperate to cry. I am desperate.
And the moment I woke up, I knew something was wrong. He was different. By then, I of course tried to keep it cool, keep it nice. Although I knew we were not happy, I thought maybe it was supposed to be like this. Relationships. Almost seven years, soon will just turn into dust.
I wanted to shout out my feelings, I wanted to make he see what his eyed could not, because of their absence of life. What if I slapped him in his face? Like those women who wake up people who were dead.
What to do? What to do?
‘Honey, could you please pass me the salt’
‘Of course, dear.’
‘You know, I was thinking about our 7 years anniversary. They say Buenos Aires is a romantic city. Would it be possible for you to travel with me next October?’
‘Well, I guess so.’
Everything was alright.