Today, I would like to share one extract of a story with you. I'm gonna post it in Spanish and try my best to translate it, without loosing the feeling. I wasn't always a happy person. Back in my 20's, I suffered a lot from a toxic relationship I was in, and my way of healing from such an awful breakup was thru writing. Was the kind of break ups when you end up without a place to go and need to go back running to your family ashamed of your failures. Today, I'm graceful for that experience as it made me strong and worth-it of the happiness I'm living today. I'm a strong believer of cause and effect. If I haven't learned that lesson back then, my life today wouldn't be as fabulous as it is! So, I'm graceful for all the pain, the heartache, the betrayal... :D Yes I am!
This extract is from a story called "El diario de Sabrina" (Sabrina's Diary). This is a compilation of events that Sabrina lived and how she manage to survive. One night Sabrina was wondering what is love and how difficult is to have feeling for someone...
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Nadie sabe lo que el deseo puede provocar, solo el que lo vive en carne propia. El que sin tenerle cerca, siente su aroma donde quiera que se encuentre. Nadie entiende la humillación de la carne, solo el que desea la piel que no puede tener. El que deja escapar un suspiro en su cercanía. Nadie reconoce lo doloroso del rechazo, solo el que se arrastra por los suelos suplicando un poco de atención. El que haría lo imposible, por migajas de amor. Nadie acepta el significado de otro adiós, solo el que se da por vencido y decide detenerse. El que no tiene ganas de luchar, el que lo ha perdido todo, e interesa volver a caminar. Nadie puede precisar lo que son noches pesadas ni nubladas, solo el que las sufre en silencio. El que piensa y haría lo imposible por llegar cada noche a su lado. Nadie entiende lo que son los gritos del silencio, solo el que se resiste a escucharlo. El que se va y regresa de su sueño, pensando en su piel. Nadie reconoce la sinceridad del frío, ni lo que es vivir a solas, solo el que lame sus heridas a escondidas. El que anhela un cariño ajeno, el que envidia, el que quiere. Nadie acepta el dolor, solo el que se tira a la perdición por su propia voluntad. Nadie puede precisar lo que son las mentiras, un corazón roto y un rostro mojado, solo el que se encapricha en un imposible. El que le ve pasar por su lado –de la mano de otro amor y se siente morir en su interior. El que a la perfección puede describir en detalle su cuerpo, su mirada, su sonrisa, su aroma y su piel –sin haberle tenido. Que en silencio le ha estudiado. Que le bastaría un segundo de su tiempo. El que cree conocerle de siglos. Ese que antes de ser masa, ante de tener memoria, antes de todo, antes… Le conoce. Que le piensa, sin ninguna razón. Sin saber cuándo todo comenzó, como una revelación. Y sin saberlo, el que intenta entenderlo todo en su presencia, creyéndose estallar. El que no necesita excusa. Que con una sola mirada; habla, acaricia, besa e invita. El que quisiera palpar el silencio y soplar el viento. El que cree ser normal. Que de ser necesario, hablaría en otro idioma para ser entendido y gritaría a los cuatro vientos su sentir, sin importarle el qué dirán. El que canta, recita, danza, imagina; solo por una noche entre sus brazos. Aquel que no permitirá que el dolor, quebrante sus planes. El que no sentiría celos, aun descubriéndole en brazos de otro amor. El que está seguro, de que su momento llegará. El que se ha hecho amigo del tiempo y quien será su mejor aliado. El que ve un mundo de Hadas frente a un ataúd. El que se embriaga en las noches para no soñarle, sin éxito aparente porque su recuerdo mora en su memoria. El que no ve el final de algo tan bello, sin haber dado inicio. Que no desea romper la ilusión que está en sus manos. El que ve desaparecer las tardes de sol y las ve llegar en noches de agua salada, por sus lágrimas. El que tira la soga de su propio cuello. Que sabe que la vida como viene, se va. El que piensa que nadie detiene el amor en un lugar. Que sobre la madrugada y su calma, no dice nada.
Translation: No one knows what desire provokes, only those who lives
it in their own flesh and bones. Who without having him around, recognizes his scent. No one understands the humiliation of the flesh, only those
who wants the one that cannot have. No one recognizes how painful rejection is, only those
who crawls on the floor begging for some attention. Who would do anything for
crumbs of love. No one understands the meaning of another goodbye, only those
who give up and decides to let it go away. Who has no desire to fight, those who lost everything, and tried to walk again. No one can define what are heavy or
cloudy nights, only those who suffer in silence. The ones that would do anything to
have one more night beside him. No one understands what the night screams, only
those who refuses to listen. Who comes and goes from their sleeps, thinking only of
his warm skin. No one recognizes the sincerity of the cold, or what living alone
really means, only those who lick her wounds in silence. No one knows how to accept the pain, only those who push themselves to destruction –without any
help. No one can pinpoint what lies are, or a broken heart, or a soaking face, only those who daydream with the impossible. Whoever sees him passed by her side with
another love, and die inside. Only those who can perfectly describe his body, his
eyes, his smile, his scent and skin - without being hers. The one who in silence
has studied him. That would only take a second to recognize him, perfectly.
The one that knows him from centuries ago. That before being mass, memory, and before... knows
him. That needs no reason to think of him. Not knowing when it all began, as a
revelation. And unknowingly trying to understands everything in his presence, while feeling exploding inside. The one that does not need an excuse. That with a single
glance; she talks, caresses, kisses and invites. Those who feel the silence in the
wind blowing. Those who feel “normal”. That if necessary, will speaks in another
language to be understood and shout from the rooftops their feelings, no matter
what people said. Sings, recites, dances, imagines; only for one night in his
arms. Those who does not allow the pain to breaks their plans. Those who are
not jealous, even when their love is in the arms of someone else. Those who are
sure, that the moment is near. Those who knows that time is their best ally. Those
who sees fairies over coffins. Those who gets drunk at night to not dream of him,
without luck -because he lives in you. Those who does not see the end
of something so beautiful, even without being initiated. Those that do not want
to break the illusion that is only in only in their head. Those who tense the rope on
their own neck. Who knows that life as it comes... goes. Those who knows that
nobody holds the love in one place. That on the morning, the tranquility says
nothing.
Is a shame that I'm not that good of a translator, but I hope it doesn't lost the feeling of what I tried to expressed back then. Those were difficult moments, but I learned that everything happens for a reason... Today I'm living that "reason".
I wish you are happy and your life is full of joy. If for some reason you are experiencing a difficult moment, just be assure that everything goes away and you will only keep the memories and the lesson learned!
Besos,
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