Mariposa K

I proclaimed you my wife in a phone call, it was a bit rushed, like a heatwave, but in the middle of November, I could afford to finger the future with your hands and that silver ring you wear, even though you had already told me not to. I believed, I proclaimed. The power of the voice, the power of thought. 
What happened in the next 24 hours, will remain in the privacy of the heavens inside a room.
I spare the long, tangled details, the music of dark tones, like those gothic and perreadoras songs you love, but two months later the dismal end has already materialized.
It hurts
Pain
Suffer
Cry
Staring at the sky as I drive, and a sad Beck song plays.
I think today of all the behaviors and mistakes that led from that high point of our intimacy to this immense ocean that today distances us and will not go away.
Because you told me enough, and that you don't want to have contact of any kind with me,
I became the bad guy in your story and our story.
Although I don't know why, maybe it's the planetary arrogance, that tells me that in March or April there maybe that unexpected miracle or blessing.
But I am adamant, today more than ever, I must work on my behavior, my mistakes, my particular way of ruining myself in relationships and I want, I decide, to be alone.
It hurts
Pain
Suffer
Cry
It's a road of ups and downs. I loved you like nobody else, and I drove me crazy for you, it's true. But as the good Jung says: "It is not possible to awaken to consciousness without pain. People are capable of doing anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own soul. No one becomes enlightened by fantasizing figures of light, but by making his darkness conscious."
I am very dark, maybe that's the real reason why my mother calls me black.

Oh, mom!!, that story is harder, but that will be for another time.