Hoje me perguntaram se ainda gosto de você. Minha resposta, com olhares ao horizonte, foi que não acho que jamais gostarei de alguém assim. Indeed, I did say I do. Not that it changes anything. The real truth is that I messed up, you messed up and it is all far away past. But I am fully aware that I keep messing up every single moment in which I even care about replying to such questions or to rationalize such feelings.
Not that love is suppose to fade; nor that this kind of feelings is the one and only manifestation of love. No, not at all. Not that you are perfect (or for the sake of my argument, were perfect), not that you cared about me better than anyone else, not that you fulfill my dreams, not that you share my thoughts. But for some uncountable reasons you kept your place. (And the bells rise in a symphony: Silly C, silly C..).
Could it be diverse: Maybe. Maybe the entire path could have been diferent. So many maybes. Maybe one could be alive, maybe one could be near, maybe one could be none, maybe the eyes could have seen more and the heart have felt less. Maybe... Maybe one day there would not be you standing with that white shirt of yours seting all my breakable belongings while I was being the most annoying of all the superfecial creatures ever. But you were. And you felt for me. And from that moment on all the things were damned to be the way they are nowadays...or maybe not. Maybe we did screwed them up in a way they shouldn´t have been.
In any case, enquanto tento racionalizar o que não tem razão eu me torno um ambulante soco no estômago. E ainda devo ressaltar que jamais chego a ponto algum com tais interpretações. Sim, tudo isso sequer parece fazer sentido. Time passed by and one moves on. Curso natural das coisas. You did.(...)
E mais um dia se esvai. E que venha outro!! Porque nada melhor do que um pouco de curry para variar o paladar. Além do mais, se da pimenta e da canela restam permanentemente as memórias do passado, nada como um novo sabor para temperar os meandros da vida no presente e no futuro.
E em um cantinho discreto remanerá a sua essência (bom, ao menos a essência do que fomos. E talvez um pouquinho daquela do que não fomos também.) E mais dia menos dia estes textos se esvairão.
Not that love is suppose to fade; nor that this kind of feelings is the one and only manifestation of love. No, not at all. Not that you are perfect (or for the sake of my argument, were perfect), not that you cared about me better than anyone else, not that you fulfill my dreams, not that you share my thoughts. But for some uncountable reasons you kept your place. (And the bells rise in a symphony: Silly C, silly C..).
Could it be diverse: Maybe. Maybe the entire path could have been diferent. So many maybes. Maybe one could be alive, maybe one could be near, maybe one could be none, maybe the eyes could have seen more and the heart have felt less. Maybe... Maybe one day there would not be you standing with that white shirt of yours seting all my breakable belongings while I was being the most annoying of all the superfecial creatures ever. But you were. And you felt for me. And from that moment on all the things were damned to be the way they are nowadays...or maybe not. Maybe we did screwed them up in a way they shouldn´t have been.
In any case, enquanto tento racionalizar o que não tem razão eu me torno um ambulante soco no estômago. E ainda devo ressaltar que jamais chego a ponto algum com tais interpretações. Sim, tudo isso sequer parece fazer sentido. Time passed by and one moves on. Curso natural das coisas. You did.(...)
E mais um dia se esvai. E que venha outro!! Porque nada melhor do que um pouco de curry para variar o paladar. Além do mais, se da pimenta e da canela restam permanentemente as memórias do passado, nada como um novo sabor para temperar os meandros da vida no presente e no futuro.
E em um cantinho discreto remanerá a sua essência (bom, ao menos a essência do que fomos. E talvez um pouquinho daquela do que não fomos também.) E mais dia menos dia estes textos se esvairão.
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