O Lado B do A

I  wrapped myself in the cloak of invisibility and allowed myself eleven days of silence. Eleven days to grieve, to exist in the emptiness left behind. It feels as if someone reached into my chest, took my heart and lungs, and commanded me to keep living.  But how does one breathe when the air is gone? How does one move when the weight of loss turns every limb to stone? I sit in the stillness, hoping that in the quiet, I might find a way to piece myself back together. But grief is not gentle. It does not wait for permission. It paralyses, flooding every corner of my being with an ache so deep it swallows time itself. I wake, but I do not rise. I exist, but I do not live. The world moves on, indifferent to the storm  unfolding  inside me. And so, I remain here, in the silence, mourning what was, mourning what will never be. In the darkness, a friendly reminder: “it shall pass” - there’s your handwriting on it - one day breath will return, and will find my way back to...

I realized I spent the whole day talking about you. Maybe it’s the rain. If my memory isn’t failing me, I dreamt of you last night—skinny jeans, white shoes, and a red top. That combination looked perfect on you. No, nothing happened. It was just you, standing there, and me, quietly taking in your beauty. This morning, I brushed it off as just a passing scene. But by afternoon, the memories came rushing in, overwhelming me. Someone called me by your name.  Was fun.  Like the rain falling now, I know this will pass. I'm ok. It is just saudade.

If I had to choose between you and you, I’d still choose you. Because here, on this side of the world, no one carries your essence— your elegance, your words. No one gets lost in books the way you do. No one holds your voice. Here, it’s just silence—an empty hum that fades into nothing. And you? You’re the melody in my chaos, the spark that lights the pages of my days. You make the ordinary feel poetic like each moment is worth savoring.

If there’s one thing I regret in all of this, it’s that Saturday morning when I asked you not to come. I’ve cursed every place we went to together, and look at me now—alone and completely lost in my thoughts. I should have fought for us. I should have begged you to stay. I should have encouraged you more, let go of my jealousy, my possessiveness, my anger. I should have changed myself to take care of you. But you loved me as I was, and now I’m so lost without you. I should have made myself your safe place from the very beginning. I should have erased all the lies I told myself, the ones that made me believe I was right when I wasn’t. Look at me now. Full of regret. Please, forgive me for not being strong enough. I should have treated it as just a passing thing, like you said that day, and left it at that. But I couldn’t. I knew it was more. I felt my whole body tremble every time I heard your voice. I knew we were more than just attraction. I felt the fear crawling up my spine, but at ...

It lingered in the space between us, a tension neither of us could name but both felt. Her presence stayed with me long after she left, a quiet warmth I couldn’t shake. The way her eyes held mine, the brush of her hand—too deliberate to ignore. I told myself it was fleeting, that it would pass. But when her absence ached more than her touch ever could, I knew the truth. I craved her. I welcomed the way she unravelled me. It wasn’t a question of right or wrong anymore, only of inevitability. We were standing at the edge, and neither of us could resist the fall.

Now you’re in pain, and I can’t reach you—not by phone, not at work, not through messages, not face to face. It feels like you cleared away the dust but swept me off with the wind. I’m hurting, and I keep hearing you say, “There’s no scenario without pain anymore.” You were so wise. Should we add that to the list? Do we even still have a list? Maybe I should call you “genius”—you always loved that, and I can find it on the list. I’m full of sorrow. Empty. Collecting dust, longing for you to return. What's the point of being loud if you're not here? When you cannot witness my love overflowing? "It's always weird not having you around", you said once. If these words I'm writing could reach you, maybe you'd be surprised by how much I remember. I remember it all. Was never fond of chasing reasons for happiness. Not in the early mornings.  Not at work. Not in life, in general. But knowing I'd share not just breakfast, but the same air as you, that made my h...

I'm still so confused. I keep seeing all the flashes in my mind about everything we went through. I changed my favourite playlist to sad vaibes. Everyone is asking if I'm okay. Is my sadness visible on my face? It’s been painful for the past six days.  Maybe I’m going through what you experienced before. I’m worried about you and the s(h)ituation you're in now.  Did you know they contacted me? I felt attacked.