Para mi corazón basta tu pecho - Pablo Neruda

Para mi corazón basta tu pecho, 
para tu libertad bastan mis alas. 
Desde mi boca llegará hasta el cielo 
lo que estaba dormido sobre tu alma. 

Es en ti la ilusión de cada día.
Llegas como el rocío a las corolas.
Socavas el horizonte con tu ausencia.
Eternamente en fuga como la ola.

He dicho que cantabas en el viento
como los pinos y como los mástiles.
Como ellos eres alta y taciturna.
Y entristeces de pronto, como un viaje.

Acogedora como un viejo camino.
Te pueblan ecos y voces nostálgicas.
Yo desperté y a veces emigran y huyen
pájaros que dormían en tu alma.


PABLO NERUDA 

Temo que aún no te dejo

Veo aún los rastros de tu presencia sobre mi cama;
Tus cabellos finos y ondulados,
se esconden bajo las arrugas de mi frazada, y
se enlazan entre mi cuerpo para ser apreciados
y acariciados por mis dedos al amanecer.

Huelo aún el aroma de tu esencia que
esta ya impregnada en mi almohada
y entre la memoria de mi olfato
y de tu ser.

Toco aún las huellas de tu alma que
me visitan de noche
y soñaban por las mañanas.

Siento aún el sabor de tus labios,
de tus manos,
y del frío de tus pies enredados entre los míos.

Aún mi cuento no terminó con tu salida,
ni mi esperanza
morirá con este forzado despertar.

Soñaré más fuerte con tu ausencia,
y respiraré el aire pesado de mi renacer
el cual me regalaste con tu breve presencia.

Temo que aún no te he dejado de amar.

And since when does one truly know when to let go before it’s too late?

Sometimes, we put ourselves in the line of fire for a special someone because we are led to believe that by showing how persistent we can be, that person will understand that we care for them and that they should give themselves the chance(s) to get to know your worth.  But sometimes, by putting ourselves in that very same line of fire, we (indirectly) deny our very wants and needs and become oblivious to the realization that the person who we’re so very intrigued by does not want to be fought for.

Perhaps you already know this and you’re just refusing to accept it as truth – you’re hopeful and optimistic, (characteristics gifted to you by experience?).  Perhaps you want your efforts to be acknowledged – after all, would you really put forth so much effort if you didn’t care about this person in the first place?  It is safe to assume that no one who is worth your time could be considered unworthy of your dedication or to be a waste of your affection and attention.

You sometimes enter into the given situation wearing a blindfold because you determine, (after close inspection of the nature this person displays), that all this person needs is to remove hers (or his) own “blindfold of fears” so that s/he can learn to acknowledge your efforts and lower the tall defensive walls that impede you from moving past their mystery.  You trust that this person has acknowledged your presence and needs some guidance – you become convinced that only you can offer that service; or rather, you place that responsibility upon yourself and promise to follow through with your conviction.  You learn the meaning of patience, though you do not grow virtuous.  You are not intimidated by this person’s fears and indifference.  You see a light at the end of the very long tunnel, despite the feeling of emotional distance that you experience; despite the bittersweet incommodities that keep you awake at nights.  You disregard your doubts with excuses for the person’s behaviours and forget to entertain your own wants and needs.

There comes a time when one must learn to say ‘enough is enough’ – (you have thought about it many times before, have you not?).  Walking away from something that becomes fruitless is easier in thought than in progress, but trust me when I say that it is not impossible.  When you plant a seed, you water it and keep it company, hoping that time will allow you to see its results.  And yet, sometimes, when the seed refuses to sprout, it is then when you must re-plant the seed on new fertile grounds, or simply leave it to be.  Not all roots grow a stem; neither do all the firm-looking flowers have steady roots.

There is no perfect being out there; just imitations that reflect our desires and the image of our ideal mate.  The one you think is perfect would not make you wait around in between unanswered questions.  The one you think is perfect would not test your patience or leave you to drown in a pool of doubts.  In fact, the one that you think is perfect would never ask such a thing of you – in the end, it is your own decision to stick around that will make you feel doubtful, refused, and alone.

Surround yourself in solitude from time to time and meditate on your actions.  Because, (if science has proven useful to the hopeless romantic), for every action there should be an equal, opposite reaction.  That is not to say that you should give with the hopes of receiving, but do ask yourself the following:  Does this person show as much interest or as much enthusiasm as you do?  If the answer is unclear, meditate some more.  If the answer is ‘no’, then do what is right for you and move on.

With that said, it is never easy to throw in the towel, especially when your heart has become so very attached to the essence of this person.  Sometimes we are so passionate about our ideals that we refuse to see things for the clarity that they show.  We see them in a different light because we are hopeful.  We see them in a different light because love, (or deep infatuation), can be blinding.

I just want you to know that your patience is most likely very much appreciated by the other person, even if it is not verbally expressed at times.  It is certainly not their direct intention to hurt you.  We all need physical or emotional connections; despite how jaded we grow to be due to the incessant hurts that continue to lecture us about our ideals of romance.  And yet, given the benefit of the doubt, the only one thing that can cause you continuous frustration will be your choices.  After all, you are responsible for the life you lead.

Sintiendo tristeza sin entender porque...

Si el viento pudiera quitarme la inexplicable tristeza que últimamente esta sintiendo mi corazón, le agradeceria a las tormentas de la naturaleza que se enfrentan a las ramas inquietas de mis pensamientos nocturnos.
No hay manera discreta de como relatar la sensación de abandonamiento que uno siente cuando la nube cubre la luz que antes sirvió de guía, aún cuando su pasado fue corto.

Que incómodo que es el frío que siento bajo mi pecho; el que amenaza el ritmo duro de mis latidos.  Sangre fría que me protege suena más dulce que el submergido enlace de tiernos momentos que viven puros en mi jóven memoria.

Si fuera fácil deducir que eso pasará, el tiempo no importaría, y los celos que me devoran la humanidad se calmarían tras el simple saber de que volveré a renacer - y si no por primera vez, con seguridad que sigo aún endormido por el dolor de sueños inexplicables.

Los inexpresados y estimados consuelos que acariciaban mi esperanza ahora me servirán para enterrar, (en mi pleno luto), todo lo bueno que tenía ya pensado y narrado bajo los cuentos pintados de mi valor.
La fé diluida lleva menos de los puñados que ayudaban a mi bien querer - no existe la esperanza para aquel quien lleva como destino el título de amigo.