Skip to main content

Heartbreak

The little boy did not want to be her friend anymore. That was the thing! He just did not want to play with her. She told her mom. Moms are the only ones who understand those things. "Did he tell you he doesn't want to be your friend?", she asked. "Yes." A big fat tear formed and was dripping from the corner of her eye. "He doesn't want to play with me anymore." The mom caressed her hair. Why doesn't he like me mom?" Tears continued falling, one fat one after the other. It impressed the mom how tears could be so heavy and fat. She was silent. "Well, if he doesn't want to play with you, there is nothing you can do, sweetie!" 

The little girl raised her head and her big brown eyes starred at her mom. She could see the despair in them. "Despair... How could that be? So young!" Yet, there it was! She recognized it. 
- You can play with your other friends! You have so many friends! You have so many people who love you! 
- But why doesn't he want to play with me, mom? Why? 
She sobbed a little and the mom was quiet again. "Why? Isn't that always the question? Will there ever be an answer to this question?" But she was the mom, she had to say something. 
- You know, if you play with your other friends, if you just forget about him for a while, I'm sure with time he will realize what a good friend you are and he will certainly want to play with you again!
- You think so?
-  I do! I think so!

The mom dried up the girl's tears and held her in her arms for a while. "Little kids can be cruel.", she thought to herself while she tucked her little girl in bed and kissed her good night: "It will be alright, sweetie!" And she reflected upon her adult life, the choices she had to make, the things she did not get to choose, the lovers that walked away, the losses she had to endure, stuff she could only accept and understand as a part of life. She looked at the little girl who had fallen asleep and hoped this was not going to be her first heartbreak. A fat tear clouded her sight and fell through the corner of her eye.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The kind of person who lights candles

  I am the kind of person who lights candles. This is now, not then. it is a recently acquired habit, one that has done me well. I light up candles every day. In the beginning of each class I set up an intention, I focus and I light the candle. I ask myself to be the light, to be the container, not the conduit. I am now the kind of person Who walks barefoot on the grass of my backyard and lets herself shower in the improbable rain of Brasilia in May.  The four elements rest now on my desk making my therapist smile when told about them, making her proud of myself and my journey. I am the kind of person that feels the connection with the elements, and nature and the universe, so new. I am again a newborn being. And it is not the first time, I have once died and it’s no secret. This time, however, I did not have to die. I had only to shed the old skin, the one who served me no more. I am still the kind of person who looks in the mirror and who wonders who this new being is. This new self
Post a Comment
Read more

No espelho

  Olhei hoje para o espelho e me vi mais serena, me enxerguei com mais leveza. Não que esteja de fato mais leve, eu acho. Ou será que estou? Tenho ainda infinitas incertezas e dúvidas aos milhares, mas a imagem que me olhou de volta do espelho, não me olha com tristeza, dor pânico.     A imagem que vejo nesse espelho é de     calma, no olhar certa paz, talvez de se entender humana, imperfeita e aceitar essa condição.     Aqui, deste lado que estou, me observando no espelho, sinto ainda o coração encolher como se uma mão o quisesse esmagar. Encolhe-se para sobreviver e expande-se em seguida. Ao encolher-se, a respiração dá uma pausa e uma bolha de cristal sobe em refluxo, pausando ali no meio da goela. Assim que pode, o coração retorna a seu pulsar, seu ir e vir. Permanecem ali as dúvidas, as exigências, as demandas, mas também os desejos de só ser, irresponsavelmente ser e atender a cada quimera. Porque a vida é curta! A vida é sopro!    E o outro? Os outros? Todos os outros?  É precis
Post a Comment
Read more

Sobre os artistas - Para Bruno Sandes

  Créditos da imagem: Jacobs School of Music Marketing and Publicity
Post a Comment
Read more