Sometimes we don’t see it but life is always in a cont down. What you do today matter tomorrow, who we touch, who we see…. How we treat everyone.
Tomorrow will always remind you of today… and today will always make you imagine a tomorrow.
She knew that before she left, her husband was asleep with her son and she knew it was then…. She’d never meet anyone as important as them but she´d never had the chance to live if she stayed.
She picked up the small suitcase under the bed, she left a letter… it would qualify as a book if it weren’t for the lack of plot. She was in love with them both and someday she’d give them what their dreams gave them then.
That’s how we all live, every day, every month, and every minute. We’re always thinking about today but…. What about tomorrow, what about the rest.
He woke up that morning and cried, like he had never done so. There with his son in arms he knew she would come back. He also knew he’d wait forever.
Like a bird, she wasn’t made to be kept in a cage.
Aren’t we all birds somehow? I am…
The boy didn’t realize the absence until it was time for lunch. He knew he wouldn’t wait forever. A mother is meant to be kept by your side until you feel free to leave.
His mother was different but right then he didn’t appreciate different. Even when he was too...
She thought about them every day, every minute and every month, but she couldn’t leave, not yet.
Isn’t it always like that… we want more… and more… and more… more of this, more of that and we fail to see that sometimes our dreams and our hopes are there at the reach of our hands.
Yes… Im a dreamer… a lover… a thinker but there are dreams far more beautiful in reality and we fail to see them. Dreams that are there, at the reach of our hands. In the color of a tree, in the touch of the breeze, in the blink of an eye, in the texture of a skin, in the smell of something familiar.
Years later she realized that…. That her time there was done
Once she went back and she smelled the air, touched the door knob she realized it was locked.
Like a bird who comes to get food after a long absence realizes that the owner has forgotten to put water and food in the pot.
The man now was long dead and the son far away in not so loving arms that treated him barely well. The husband had died of ancient long forgotten heart problems. He never stopped loving her, the only thing she managed to find out was the phone number of the sons house.
She went and found out she had been left a surprise.
She had been left a letter… it would qualify as a book if it weren’t for the lack of plot. He had died adoring her and waiting as always for her to come back to him. She had never been there in mind or heart, only by whiles. She had always been thinking, imagining, dreaming and writing… When she was there in the whole of her senses he felt in heaven. She was the woman of his dreams and he wrote that he had learned a bit of her and died by her side. He had dreamt her there before death.
The son smiled at her. He didn’t see her as a mother but his father had taught him to love her none the less, he had written it all down for her. The father spoke and the son wrote. Two hearts and a death writing a tune for her.
She always regretted not being there.
Don’t you think that sometimes seeing your life as a dream is better than dreaming a life? The colors you don’t appreciate shine bright, the traffic jams you find let you see the details in the trees by your side… the details in the sky where the sun doesn’t even shine.
We need to learn to see lights and colors, feelings and emotions where we don’t usually see them or else we might be the ones who lose the love of their lives.