I fall. I get my knees hurt. And then I get up again. By myself.
You are always there to support me, but that's only physical and not mental. I know everyone's taking care of their own problems but that shouldn't mean you should get people down and only trying to make them see shadows in what they do. I could use encouragement sometimes instead of being condemn every time. That's why most of the time, i rather hear silence.
Maybe I was like this too, maybe I used to do the same thing to you too, but when people change for worse there's something good that might come along too.
People around are just secondary characters, standing there trying to hold the emptiness when I'm already on the ground. All the time they just try to prove me wrong, that I need people to get me up but what they don't know it's that, the only thing they seem to be doing it's to prove me right: you don't try to bring me up from the floor, you just make me fall harder when I'm already standing on my feet.

She couldn't take in the words on the pages of her book. She couldn't hear the words of the songs she played. She couldn't taste her dinner. She couldn't fall asleep.

Last night I dreamed of you and we were so fine.. But then, I woke up and you had left and all I had was a stupid sleeping pad and I felt lonely again. Sometimes I like dreaming because I can be with you but, most of the time I just want a goodnight kiss.

Some nights when she lay in bed , she imagined her way through R.'s day. Other nights she went through what S's could have been. She could see them doing the regular things.  She could picture R. with that tender smile looking behind his old Pentax K100 lens going to the middle of the peasantry life and capturing a men with his hoe working the land above his feet and she could picture S, laying beside him where the sun's blaze touched her body the best, seizing it the prettiest way anyone could.
The thought of her getting close to them again felt more like trying to design a time machine using only the things on her kitchen. She had no idea how to go about it and no faith that such a thing could be done.

E eu, eu sou como a  maré vaza onde as crianças podem brincar e tu és a areia de quem eu corro atrás e volto a fugir. Eu sou o barco que navega em alto mar e tu és o empuxo da água que não me deixa afundar. Eu sou o navegador cansado de tantos dias de viagem e tu és a costa que vejo ao longe, na nublina. Eu sou a chuva, vou e venho conforme as estações.. Tu? Tu és a terra, tu ficas, vês-me partir e esperas que volte pacientemente.
Tu me manques.

December 2012
She first heard the whistle on the outside of her window. A brief and gentle whistle that she couldn't ever make though he tried hard. Then again, other.
Sleepy, she moved slowly her head on the pillow and wondered if someone was being rescued by her prince, but somehow it didn't seem likely.
A while after, between dreams, she seemed to be hearing the whistler whistling like Rue and she felt lucky for that unknown girl and smiled in her sheets. The cough started again and she finally understand , her illness was taking over her.
Suddenly, the phone started ringing and in that silence it sounded like a thunder. She picked it up and answered it still blind.
'Hey beauty, I'm outside. I wanted this to be more romantic, but good God you sleep like a rock. Now, could you finally open the window for me to come in?'
She opened her eyes and run to the window silently opening it and helping him on the climb, while he stared at her from outside, watching her with her messy hair and light smile.
'Jez, you sure look ill, but have no worries, prince charming is coming in and you'll be alright'

'But you love him'

"Do you really think there is only one perfect mate?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Well then how can you be certain to find them? And if you do find them, are they really the one for you or do you only think they are? And what happens if the person you're supposed to be with never appears, or, or she does, but you're too distracted to notice?"
"You learn to pay attention."
"Then let's say God puts two people on earth and they are lucky enough to find one another. But one of them gets hit by lightning. Well then what? Is that it? Or, perchance, you meet someone new and marry all over again. Is that the girl you're supposed to be with or was it the first? And if so, when the two of them were walking side by side were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first or, was the second one supposed to be first? And is everything just chance or are some things meant to be?"
"You can't leave everything to fate, boy. It's got a lot to do. Sometimes you must give it a hand."

That used to feel like home. Now, she had come to feel this set insufferable. It seemed to her that both she and him were insincere, and she felt so bored and ill at ease in that world.. The word itself seemed more heavy than what she could bare and everytime she looked at the ring she felt like he owned her and controled her, she needed her freedom like you need air to breathe.
But everytime she met him surged up in her heart  that same feeling of quickened life that had come upon her that day by the pool when she saw him for the first time. She was conscious herself that her delight sparkled in her eyes and curved her lips into a smile, and she could not quench the expression of this delight.

She felt like her lungs had turned inside out. They wouldn't fill with air. It was urgent what she felt, but she couldn't explain it. She could never make him understand.
This is the man you love, some part of her felt the need to say.
I don't know what that means, the rest of her responded. I don't know how to do that now.
Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Her memories were a prison. The people she loved. She couldn't get away from the hurt of them. She could leave him, walk away and move town, walk forever if she liked, but she couldn't escape what really hurt. Tonight, even the sky felt like a prison.

He used to think weddings were romantic, and they gave him the opportunity to bring up the topic of marriage. She  used to get a certain look, somewhere between anticipation and fear, when he started talking about getting engaged. 

She looked up as he came back in his bedroom to the computer camera again in his oldest jeans and an Abercrombie polo. It was the same thing almost every time he logged on Skype or even just walked back into the room where she was. She felt something, some little clap inside her head like a distant echo of the thunderous knock she had felt a while ago. It wasn't always entirely comfortable.

"You fled from medication  because it only causes pain, you won't go to the doctor who keeps calling you insane, you're lost even when you're going the right way. You mean the world to me even though you might be crazy.

And you said we wouldn't make and look how far we've come. For so long my heart was breaking and now we're standing strong. The things you say you make me fall harder each day, you're a trainwreck but I wouldn't love you if you changed!
We were so different but opposites attract, so my hope kept growing and I never looked back.You're one of a kind and no one can change this heart of mine."

thanks for the song, i love you too

He didn't say anything. He just watched me with that sweet, sad, familiar look that said more about how badly I was hurting him than a dozen screaming matches between us would have.
He was breaking my heart.
- I'm so sorry, Mickey..
He sat down on the bench and held his arms to me. -Bee, come here.
I shook my head. -Mik, I can't..
-I'm not asking anything from you,- he interrupted firmly. -I'm giving you something. Come here.
When I just looked at him in confusion he sighed, reached up, took my hands, and gently  drew my stiff but unresisting body to his lap and into his arms. He held me, resting his cheek on top of my head, like My face was pressed against the crook of his neck and I inhaled his scent. It was the fragrance of my childhood.
And I realized suddenly that while I'd been breathing in familiarity and security, I'd also been relaxing. With a sigh, I curled into him.
-Better? - Mickey murmured.
-Better - I said. -But Mik, I really don't know..
-Don't - His arms tightened around me and then gentled again. -Right now just remember us. Remember what's been like between us for years. I'm here for you, Bee,  I'm fixing you. I'm here, and we belong to each other.
-Why? - I asked, still cradled in his arms. -Why are you still here, still willing to be with me even when I just said..
-Because I love you - he said simply. - I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I'm going to love you for the rest of my life.
Tears stung my eyes and I blinked hard, trying not to cry.
-Hey - he said looking right through me - There isn't anything to do about me. I don't care what you answered. I'm with you. That's it.
I stared at him. Mickey's eyes were bright with tears. He looked so much older than nineteen that it almost scared me. -I don't want to make you sad. - I said. - i don't want to mess up your life.
-Then stop trying to send me away from you.
Okay, I realize it was wrong of me, but instead of answering him and arguing that us being together just couldn't work, I curled up in his arms and let him hold me. Yeah, it was selfish of me, but I lost myself in Mickey and the touch of my past. The way he held me was perfect. He didn't try to make out with me. He didn't try to feel me up or grind against me. He just murmured how much he loved me. He told me everything really would be okay. I could feel his heartbeat against me, the familiarity, our joined past, the strenght of his understanding.

A guy who is crazily, madly in love with you. A guy who sees how incredible and amazing you are, even though you’re not the cheerleader or even close to the prettiest girl in the school. A guy who thinks you’re beautiful, just the way you are. A guy who can really see you. That's you.