Al hombre que me dejó en el suelo suplicándole que se quedara

Cómo desearía poder retractarme. Todo. El dolor y la agonía. La desesperación.

La humillación que sientes cuando te lanzas, sólo para ser rechazado. ¿Y por qué?

Cómo permití que me hicieras tanto daño que quise meterme en un agujero y morir del dolor que estallaba donde debería haber estado mi corazón.

In that moment, when you left as I gasped for air, I thought for sure I would never be able to get up off that floor. I laid there, crying and gasping for so long that I’m embarrassed to say.

Dijiste que me amabas, ¿cómo pudiste dejarme así? ¿Cómo pudiste enredarme tanto que necesité que me desenredaras?

¿Cómo pudiste convertir mi rostro, el que tantas veces dijiste que era el más bello que habías visto, en algo completamente irreconocible?

¿Incluso para mí, mi propio rostro un extraño? ¿Cómo pudiste llevarme de amarte a estar desesperada por ti? De tenerte a necesitarte. Del cariño a la obsesión.

How could you do all of that, and then just leave me in a broken pile on the floor? I still don’t know, but I thank God that you did.

If you hadn’t left me, I might still be sobbing on that floor. I might still be chasing you for the love you said was mine, but shared around with whomever was convenient to you at the time.

If you hadn’t left me I might have had to show up at another family Christmas with a black eye that my lies do not explain when the truth is written so clearly on my face.

If you hadn’t left me I might have spent the rest of my life feeling like I wasn’t good enough, like I needed to fight for your attention.

If you hadn’t left me I might still be waiting for you to deliver on the promises you made.

Véase también: Al perderte he ganado mucho más

I’m ashamed and embarrassed to admit that I would never have left you. No matter how many times you left me on the floor, I would have begged you to come back.

No matter how many times you hit me, I would have found a way to blame myself. I wish that weren’t true, but the fact that you had to leave me proves that it is.

Así que, gracias. Gracias por dejarme ir y liberarme del control que tenías sobre mí. Fue lo único que hiciste por mí y te estoy muy, muy agradecida.

To this moment I can’t explain how I let you turn me into the person I saw in the mirror that day. I don’t know how I became such a cliché.

I wish I did, because I didn’t see that for myself. I didn’t see letting anyone have such power over me let alone that they would use that power to hurt me.

I didn’t see you coming until I watched you go, and that scares me because I think if it could happen to me once it could happen to me again.

But it won’t. I won’t let it because I know now the pain of loving you was much greater than the pain of losing you.

I know now that when you get past the rejection, and the desire to fight for something you shouldn’t have to fight for, when you finally let go of a person who brings you nothing but pain, it stings a bit but then the relief comes.

Cuando dejas de sentir el dolor, empiezas a sentirte libre y empiezas a reencontrarte a ti mismo. It doesn’t take as long as you think it will when you’re still on the floor either.

Así que gracias. Gracias por saliendo ese día y no volver jamás. Fue lo mejor que nos pudo pasar y estoy mejor por ello.

I would wish you all the best, but I wouldn’t mean it. I actually hope you’re drowning slowly somewhere in a cesspool of your own making, begging for a lifeline and no one that you haven’t broken is around to throw you one.

por Tia Grace