Saturday, September 02, 2006
Your Absence
I have written about you before, when I was still raw with the pain of missing you, and I wish I could tell you that I read these melodramatic passages today and feel the solace as fresh as the day you left me, but I threw out all those papers and cleared my desk of all your photographs, the books you gave me, the silly knick knacks that men buy for men and that you bought for me, and it has all now been in the garbage for nearly six years so it is unlikely I will find those things again. Today, all I can say about your absence is that it has jaded me, and for that I no longer love you.
3 comments:
The feelings don't go away easily I noticed. I too must "throw away" the objects to those feelings too. Jaded, yet, if we are wise we learn from it, and perhaps begin to collect new photo's and knick knacks from someone who can and will love you the way you deserve to be. Hang in there.
Ernesto, why did you change the end of this piece in English? Were you ashamed of your bitterness, or the strength of your feelings? Not just at the end, but throughout, the Spanish is more honest, and more complex than the English. Your English is too good for the difference to just have been linguistic.
your writing is pure poetry
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