Diario: 28.03.17

Pensé que lo tenía resuelto… o al menos algo resuelto. Nunca deja de sorprenderme mi… inocencia.

Nunca pensé que la evasión era un tema en mi vida. Por el contrario, pensaba que siempre lograba “afrontar” relativamente bien los problemas que se me presentaban.

Durante las semanas pasadas he estado abordando y analizando el tema con mi psicólogo. Siento que en los últimos dos meses he avanzado más con él que durante todo el tiempo que estuve con mi psicóloga anterior. No podría estar más feliz y satisfecha. En fin…

Llegué a la conclusión de que la dificultad que en mí supone afrontar ciertos temas con las personas, es realmente una cuestión importante en mi vida. ¿De dónde viene? Aún no estoy segura de ello, pero sé por qué. Hasta dónde lo he pensado, la dificultad viene por el miedo a hacer enojar/incomodar/molestar a la otra persona. Es un miedo de que la otra persona “cambie su percepción de mí”, me vea mal, o simplemente cualquier connotación negativa similar. Es un miedo que me ha llevado a su vez a cierta tolerancia al enojo. Es una dificultad para expresar que algo me molesta, por miedo a cómo la otra persona reaccionará.

No me refiero a que siempre me guarde las cosas y nunca diga qué me molesta o cómo me siento. Si lo hago cierta parte de las veces… lo importante y/o preocupante a tomar en cuenta es la dificultad que me causa afrontar… el miedo que está debajo, la preocupación sobre qué pensara de mí la otra persona.

Bueno, un paso a la vez.

 

-B

 

Shortstory: Between reality

I always loved to walk under the moonlight, like in the movies, or books. I know it is a cliché, and I hate it so much, maybe because it reminds me how usual I am, and like everybody else, I crave uniqueness.

That very night, I wasn’t sad, or happy, I just was… Everything seemed okey, and I wanted to think. I watched my clock, and it said 11:00pm, but it felt like 3:00 in the morning.

I laid over there. I didn’t care if anybody could see me. Those matters never affected me anyway. However, suddenly someone arrived and sat right next to me. It was him. The whole scene felt like a book or a Hollywood kind of movie, when someone arrives like that as a result of fate, or some other stupid thing. I’ve never believe in fate.

-Let me ask you a simple question, please. -He said, as he smiled.

-Well, you are already here. Why not -I said with a tiny touch of sarcasm in my words. Actually, I wasn’t surprised at all that he came out of nowhere.

-I noticed that you come here every two nights… What do you do here?

-I just think.

-Do you ever think about me?

-No -I said- I just think in my life, myself, the mistakes I’ve made and the things I want to see differently… I am only certain in one little thing in this very moment of my life: I still have a lot of work to do in myself. I’m my biggest project.

Then, he smiled again. I always loved that smile, and he knew it.

-Well, I aways think about you, you know? I think in how intelligent you are, how deep your thoughts are and…

-And I couldn’t care less.

I wasn’t angry or anything. I didn’t mean to be rude, I just didn’t care. And, as I heard those silly words, I couldn’t be able to dismiss this thought: people often say how senseless men are, or stupid. But that’s not true. They always know what they are doing. And I strongly believe they use every word carefully. I’m not saying that they mean what they say, of course not, that’s naive. But they know the purpose of their words. They always say what they think we want to hear. And most of the time they fulfill. Women? We are pretty simple, we like attention and pretty words. It’s like the basis of our nature. And as a result of that, we have to be conscious of that structure.

With maturity, it comes the ability to differentiate when people say what they really mean, or if they are saying what they think we want to hear. Most of the time it’s not that difficult, you just have to ignore some of your senses, and see between reality.

 

-B