on regrets and stones

And then is when I realized: there was not much I was sorry about. There was not many things that I really regret. Perhaps, that was one of the few things I do regret. To not regret enough.

Unfortunately, I always lived in the present. Preoccupied with the stones I stumbled in my path. Always looking down to not tripped. Though never picking any of them. Collecting was never a thing for me. It makes you heavy. It makes you slow. I just wanted to walk. To move forward. To see what was ahead, ahead of me. I, for some reason, spent too much time craving to live my immediate future, that I forgot, and keep forgetting, to look back, to value and understand that some stones are worth to pack.

come, time

She was short and had small lips. Her eyes, they were dunes stretched by the wind. But her smile. Oh, her smile. It was just like the ocean. No matter what I did, I was always lost. It drawn me. And at times, it made me drown.

I won’t say I was not in love. Because I was. I won’t say I’ve forgotten her. Because that’s a lie. I carry her, everyday, within me. I see myself, everytime, in her smile.

The time, the distance. Two villains in the story. Two friends that held knives in my back. Two circunstances that tried to make her memory fade away. Though, it was the warm of her eyes that from time to time assured me: that moment is no so far.

I don’t live out of memories. She is real, so do I. So, we must collide. And thus, despite time waits no one, we wait for the moment it catches us. We are waiting for you.

So, please, come, time.