Letters

"Life is change, and the change is more scary than emotion. There are not a correct manner to write the sentence and, of course, to assume it. But the reality is that in the changes, all open hatreds are more likely to overwhelm than motivate because hate and fear are usually stronger in humans and more in society.  It should be the opposite, have that fear of facing the vicissitudes in solitude alone. But loneliness still gives sadness despite the peace that it contained. Letter 1: independent of your relativization of loyalty and friendship, what seemed most cheeky to me was not that he had sex with my girlfriend, but that when you felt discovered, you said that I manipulated your wife into hacking into your phone and thus, I conspired against your happiness. In any case, the subject of infidelity, she, my girlfriend, was the one who confessed it, not you, and in any case, I told your if you. If you had love or just desire for her. You said wish. And she, your wife, was the one who sought me out during my illness to bring me a notebook and a CD with all your chats and your insistence on "your little mermaid." However, I never deserved an apology from you, but the lie, the false accusation, the contempt, and the betrayal. 

In letters, humans seek to leave the teachings to others (those intimate, passionate, important, and debatable things that are part of those vicissitudes), but the letters have ceased to exist. Any change is possible if the past and facts are not recognizable and the decisions to affront in this consequent present. The human being then tends to remain silent, waiting for fate or what is around to calm down or simply pass. To turn the page is to be guilty or a victim, or nobody, but not responsible, even for inactivity and stupidity. Letter 2: How many people did you tell that you loved me and that I was the most important thing to you? I had already written to you many letters, and done it many times, but it is not bad once again. But I understood that it was not about the new thing that I should have said but about what you, in theory, consequently should have listened and done. You did it: I slept with him then and with him. Without understanding (and I no longer want to) if it was love or not. Or anger or desire. Or all of the above. The truth is that because of him, even though you took care of me one day, you discarded and humiliated me. Then, nameless, I forgive myself, and I forgive you.

In modern times, at the privileged part of civilization, it is incomprehensible how it is maintained between the victims and the guilt assumed or, even worse, given to others. Of course, referring to the banal, the intimate, that has nothing to do (or perhaps does and has not been recognized) with the rebellion of this humanity. It is opportune and comfortable to blame, or assume blame, or be innocent before others. But, in these modern times, it is not assuming the defense of others (unless there is a profit) or empathy or collaboration, but rather a partnership. Business is business, and the convenience and generally approved is the valid. Letter 3: I will always remember when you told me not to put your hands in the fire, when I put them in it for you, to defend you and take care of you before those who are my enemies today, but now they are your partners. The convenient and opportune thing is not to do anything with me, and of course, I don't count on you at all. I did it because I believed in you, but not anymore. And for that, this letter is a farewell. You deserve to be here, alone. I don't. In any case, I wouldn't ask you to put your hands in the fire for me, but I would ask you to let me know when the others throw the flames on you, at least so that you can run. Take care, and I hope you survive the flames alone.

What is correct, then? What is appropriate? What is convenient for many who eagerly seek, cling to the anxiety of their ignorance and stupidity? However, there are humans whose principles are extraordinary and rare. That which is extraordinary is change, is life. That is why they bother, and that is why they are despised because what has a value cannot have a price. Letter 4: I loved watching you read, but I know that this letter may end up forgotten while your life passes, how you decide to live it. Because in the end, it is a decision, and you decided that it had no value for you. But even so, I think you loved me, but everything conspired (there, yes) both they, those who wanted your body and your lips, like them, those who wanted you to be like them: wretched.  And, of course, that you and I would not walk more together holding hands. Are you happy because fate decided for you? I no longer wait for your answer, despite all my signs that I was here, waiting for you to throw yourself hard, for me, towards me. For me, you will never be little, much less a mermaid, but an extraordinary woman."