The first few pages of something I tried to write were filled with true words, but not true enough for me to even consider it worthy of my own recognition. I mean, I could easily post it and claim that those words are the true reflex of what’s going on inside my chest. That would be partly true, but not entirely, because, I confess, I held myself a little bit; I kept on constantly telling myself not to go too far, not to push it, and by “push it”, I mean revealing what’s trying to come out. That is the hardest part when you’re opening yourself up: trying to hold in most of what’s trying to come out.
Well, I figured I’d simply open the doors, let this paper be colored with truth and smiles. We can’t be afraid of living, nor can we be afraid of doing what makes us feel amazing, and I can tell you right now that the feeling I get when I write all these words is magnificent, and when I analyze it, I come to the conclusion that it is so because I get to relive the moments I shared with you.
Because it wasn’t just a mere holding hands or ordinary gazes every now and then; it wasn’t just intense kissing or holding each other with affection. It was all a trigger for the body chemistry, it was the making of pillars to lean on mid day, when things are harsh and the occasionalities are trying to shrink you, or in the middle of the night, when the silence is way too loud for a passionate soul to put up with.
Don’t get me wrong, we all have our sadnesses inside, our doubts and fears, and we deal with them on a daily basis. But it’s that light on the way that just appears every now and then that makes us keep going; that makes us breathe and smile with certainty, ready for the next challenge. And that is, at least, what happened when I held you close, feeling you, and it’s what’s happening to me right now.
I’ll remember the sight of your unique eyes – the eyes I remember by heart, each color and trace – and I’ll just realize that, whenever I lay by your side, holding you, we’re close enough for the body harmony to become something trivial, both hearts understanding each other, communicating with their sounds and pauses, and their different intensities being like keys that open the door to a plan that is simply not intelligible to our conscious self, but only to our core, which only shows itself when our chest is full, our eyes are closed and our heart is about to burst. And, just so you know, I’ve been face to face with my core when I was with you.
I haven’t looked inside your eyes long enough to know if my words make you smile, nor have I had time enough to know what afflicts you or pleases you, but I know that holding in thoughts and words is just not worth it. By opening myself up like this, I did good to a person that smiles when sees you smiling: myself.