On being intense and letting you go

On Sunday, there was a bit of who we were still left on that last conversation. Perhaps, it was the nicest conversation we’ve had in a while. Both of us were calm. We were talking about things that weren’t personal, things that didn’t hurt as much. They did hurt me because I knew that we were beating around the bush. We were avoiding being us. It was like talking to you when we first met and our baggage wasn’t hanging over our heads.

That intensity you like in my writings is the part of me that I want to transform. My soul is so used to feeling too much, that it hurts being alive. I see so many beautiful things around me. Nature is so perfect. Even though Florida is so flat, I can see beauty is so many places. It’s time for me to go for a walk and let fresh air touch my skin.

There’s a tango song in the background. Mano a Mano. We’re even, that’s what that means. That’s true. We learned so much with each other. There were so many beautiful moments. We were so many remarkable songs and dances, a stunning smile in the middle of a storm, our first time in the ocean. We were wild like nature, with its uncontrollable urges, beauty and revelations. We were in a rush to love, but we were also out of balance. In our love, just like in our dances, you had a hard time to find me. That’s why I felt like I was dancing and loving alone sometimes.

My eyes are green again. My skin looks older. I only have one orchid flower left. My tango shoes are isolated in a corner of my sunroom. I need a cup of tea and a good book. What are the things I want?

Maybe that intensity is always going to be there. After all, you cannot take away someone’s essence. I cannot leave my little girl behind. She’s the one who feeds on the beauty of life and makes me smile. And maybe I will deal with that intensity in a better way. And then the flower is going to blossom again.

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