A Strange Mourning

As he was sitting in a plastic chair in the hospital corridor, his head hanging down to his chest and his eyes numb from too many tears, he heard a noise. At first it didn't register at all, he was too far away, his mind at least was, but after a few minutes something inside his head clicked and he started wondering that this soft rustling sound, like the wind blowing autumn leaves across a breezy meadow, seemed out of place. Could there be a storm blowing outside? It was clear when he arrived earlier in the day, but even if it was a possible scenario, it was very unlikely and that wasn't the sound he was hearing. This was no storm, it was like walking in the Gavington Woods near home on a whimsy autumn afternoon, he could even smell the oak in the air!
And this at last made him lift up his head with his eyes closed, already sensing a clarity and a notion of open space that he shouldn't be sensing in a hospital corridor, and after a deep breath it made him open his eyes and look around.
As his reddened eyes adjusted to the clarity he found himself sitting in the middle of a small clearing, a tree stump under him and the light of the sun coming through the thin canopy above, igniting the morning fog all around him.
"Where the hell am I?..."

It's all in the details

Ainda hoje me surpreende a importância dos pormenores.

Ao fim de tantos anos a viver dentro desta minha cabeça constantemente em rebuliço, constantemente a observar tudo e todos e a perder-me em mundos que vou criando e esquecendo com uma volatilidade ridícula, ainda me surpreende como há simples pormenores que fazem parar e sorrir.

Bem sei, é parvo. É parvo pensar que as coisas possam perder a importância com o tempo mesmo quando há pensamentos e viagens a voar a mil à hora aqui dentro. Mas não sei explicar. Surpreende-me.

E surpreendem-me tanto o reparar como os pormenores em si. Surpreende-me a capacidade que um simples detalhe, um momento que para tantos passa despercebido, tem de provocar um branco, uma limpeza brutal em todo o pandemónio na minha cabeça e fazer-me sorrir.

E quem diz sorrir diz outras coisas menos viris!

Hoje falo disto porque me esqueci da música que estava a ouvir ao ver a cara dos cromos que a tocavam a deixarem-se perder no som, a rirem ou a praguejarem quando se enganavam. Aqueles gesticulares de quem explica ao colega do lado "Sim sim, eu perdi-me. Sim naquela parte. Não, a outra!", e tudo sem falar!

Digo hoje também porque uns sorrisos de galhofa ao telefone me lembraram de cumplicidades e conversas e silêncios e parvoíces em geral. Me lembraram da importância que uma só pessoa pode ter, da volta de 180 graus que uma forma diferente de pensar deu à minha vida e me contagiou e relembrou de olhar o mundo à procura de alguma magia. Da esperança que uns segundos de silêncio preocupado me deram depois da vida trocar as voltas e mudar as regras do jogo e ver que há quem fique mesmo quando tudo muda.

E falo disto também porque cada vez mais nos últimos tempos tenho estado atento aos pormenores genuínos de quem está à minha volta. Da gargalhada desbravada ao sorriso sacana de quem trama alguma, da aleatoriedade do sentido de humor à partilha do que se ouve e se lê de especial por aí, da lealdade de quem até há pouco tempo era "só mais um" ao companheirismo dos amigos de longa data e da família que está lá sempre.

Cada vez mais estou certo que a beleza desta vida está nestes pormenores.

Valentine

There is no meaning nor life when the other half of your soul disapears from your world. Like a thread that is woven between two people, creating a fragile balance, a codependency upon each other's existence, that when is cut, or even simply fades, lurches one's path in life with a strength and a depth that leaves you gasping. Breathlessly lost in a deepening well.

Vindication

Sometimes there is just no vindication.
There is no feeling of peace, no magical state of mind in which everything is right with the world and everybody that matters loves you.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you fight to keep true to yourself, to do what you think is best for the people that most matter to you, there is no unbiased opinion of what you did to pat you on the back and whisper "you did the right thing".
And it's not about being a martyr, it's not about being universally loved or recognized as a nice guy. It's about not being wrongfully accused, it's about not being misinterpreted, it's about recognizing the intent as it should be, not as what is easier to handle.
Because the lack of vindication comes from a need to paint the world as a "me against everyone" scenario, basically if you hurt someone you are a bad guy, and that's it. Black and white. And the world, life! they're not like that. Life is not a battlefield in which you either make the other person happy or you're out to get them.
And the need for vindication derives from this important distinction: it's not black and white, it can be gray. It's not what you need to believe that is the truth, it's the facts that are the truth. The words that need to be said DO matter, they're not just random bullshit or pre-rehearsed lies.
Maybe all of this realization comes from deeper things, from needs rooted deep in you. But the truth is that there is nothing wrong in wanting people to recognize for what you are and to appreciate the things you do for them even if it hurts them.
And vindication should come at some time, not as a vendetta but as driver for a sense of justice, for a sense of rightness, for peace of mind.
But it won't.
And this is not a self commiseration kind of statement like "oh life is just like that" and so forth. No, in a relationship between two people, be it love or friendship, when at least one of them is invested in it there is bound to be collateral damage when things happen. It's not a matter of lack of maturity, it's just a matter of saying the quasi-impossibly right things at the almost-as-impossibly right time.
This I can say does not happen very often.
The fact of the matter is: you can't make everybody keep liking you no matter what happens and you don't have the right to expect everyone to see things as you see them.
Despite all of this, the need for vindication will be there. The need to explain, the need to make them see what you did, what you meant, what you felt. The need to make them listen and the need to make them understand. But it's just something you'll have to learn how to live with.
Because sometimes there is just no vindication. And that's ok, because life goes on and people move on and so should you. And so should I.