I don’t know how, but us human beings are always searching for love. Some of us find its arrival far enough to believe the inexistence of life as it is. Life as it should, maybe, be.
Some of us find life’s sense between events and words. Sometimes finding little sparkles on laughs, plays, handshakes, hugs, communication. But never being enough, we run into words as the only resource we actually have. The only and last resource of confidence with someone, with you, readers. Because, probably we’ll never get to see you being something while reading us. Because, probably we just find love riding with distance everywhere; to places we may have seen, but not introduced ourselves.
Some of us find life’s sense between events and words. Sometimes finding little sparkles on laughs, plays, handshakes, hugs, communication. But never being enough, we run into words as the only resource we actually have. The only and last resource of confidence with someone, with you, readers. Because, probably we’ll never get to see you being something while reading us. Because, probably we just find love riding with distance everywhere; to places we may have seen, but not introduced ourselves.
So, yeah, I drank a little too much just to find something more to carry on.
I can’t find love. Family has always been just another part of love’s journey I ‘m never invited to. And, on my search, I had made so many mistakes with lovers, like making myself feel love. Pushing myself to feel any kind of thing, just in order to receive some any kind of things.
I can’t find love. Family has always been just another part of love’s journey I ‘m never invited to. And, on my search, I had made so many mistakes with lovers, like making myself feel love. Pushing myself to feel any kind of thing, just in order to receive some any kind of things.
I drank a little too much. I’ve waited, searched a little too much. Never found something, just like alcohol does too. Maybe cirrhosis will find its way earlier to me. Maybe, then, I’d be able to forget his damage, his hands and body. His body, and the three year-old mine. Maybe I’ll be able to forget his body’s hands that -so quickly, so fast- took my home throwing me away. Maybe, I’ll be able to forget his body and hands that changed it everything, placing him like the chosen one for protection and… love.
Maybe I will just wake up one day from all this, finding a not homeless life in everything.
Maybe I’ll find love in little sparkles on laughs, plays, handshakes, hugs and communication without finding it so useless.
Till then, thank you for letting me run into words as the ultimate resource. Thank you all for being part of it. Because, probably, I’ll never get to see you all being something while reading me.
Because, probably I just find love riding with distance everywhere; to places I may have seen, but not have introduced myself.
Por Lucie Labra.
