Para o homem que me deixou no chão a implorar-lhe que ficasse

Oh, como eu gostaria de poder voltar atrás. Tudo isso. A dor e a agonia. O desespero.

A humilhação que sentimos quando nos atiramos para o ar, apenas para sermos rejeitados. E para quê?

Como é que eu permiti que me magoasses tanto que eu quisesse rastejar para um buraco e morrer com a dor a explodir onde o meu coração deveria estar.

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.

Disseste que me amavas, então como pudeste deixar-me assim? Como pudeste torcer-me tanto que precisei de ti para me desembaraçar?

Como pudeste transformar o meu rosto, aquele que tantas vezes disseste ser o rosto mais bonito que alguma vez tinhas visto, em algo completamente irreconhecível?

Mesmo para mim, o meu próprio rosto é um estranho? Como pudeste levar-me de te amar a estar desesperada por ti? De ter-te a precisar de ti. Do carinho à obsessão.

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.

Ver também: Ao perder-te, ganhei muito mais

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.

Por isso, obrigado. Obrigado por me deixares ir e por me libertares do domínio que tinhas sobre mim. Foi a única coisa que fizeste por mim e estou-te muito, muito grata.

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.

Quando deixamos de sentir a dor, começamos a sentir-nos livres e começamos a reencontrar-se a si próprio. It doesn’t take as long as you think it will when you’re still on the floor either.

Por isso, obrigado. Obrigado por partindo nesse dia e nunca mais voltar. Foi a melhor coisa que nos podia ter acontecido e estou melhor por isso.

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