valer a pena

Será que vale a pena lutar para termos aquilo que uma vez tivémos? Vale a pena lutar por uma pessoa que não luta por nós? Por uma relação que já passou? Vale a pena fazer pazes para voltar ao que era? Será que vale a pena? Ou somos nós que queremos o que nos é conhecido, familiar, em vez do estranho, do desconhecido? O que aconteceu ao deixar o passado para trás? Não será melhor assim? Afinal de contas já experimentámos tudo o que já passou. Vale a pena querer isso tudo outra vez? E se o que tiver para vir for melhor? E se é no desconhecido que eu vou encontrar a felicidade? E se não for?

Phone Call.

- Why are you calling me, Thomas?
- It still kills me when you call me Thomas...
- Thomas... Tom... What do you want this time?
- You know what I want. I need you.
- Thomas... I have already told you I think it is too late. We had our chance... our opportunity... And we both lost it. Thomas, really...
- Listen to me and listen to me good.
- I am listening...
- It is never too late to realise what is important in life and fight for it and I will fight for you.
- Do you promise?
- I promise. Do you trust me?
- I do.

A verdade

Deitada no grande sofá vermelho, ela admira o tecto pintado à mão da sala onde se encontra. Ao lado, está uma secretária de madeira antiga, onde por detrás desta, está uma senhora sentada, concentrada e constantemente a escrever num ficheiro. De vez em quando tira os óculos de estilo anos 50 dos olhos e olha-a com o máximo de atenção, reparando nas expressões que lhe devolve.
Nesta sala só se ouve o tiquetaque do ponteiro do relógio, que marca pesadamente os segundos, e a voz dela, que lhe parece um pouco mais indecisa hoje que das outras vezes que ali se deitou.
O tema é sempre o mesmo. Em todas as sessões que tem. Relações pessoais e sociais.
Muitas das relações que teve, acabaram de igual forma. De repente e sem qualquer explicação por parte da outra pessoa. Ela estava notavelmente abalada com a recente ruptura e tinha-se deixado ir abaixo. Estava deitada naquela sala exactamente para não se perder na sua tristeza.
O relógio marcavam as dessazeis horas e os vinte e cinco minutos. Os cinco minutos finais eram usualmente utilizados pela psicóloga. Nesses cinco minutos, ela ouve a grande verdade, ainda deitada sobre o sofá vermelho a olhar o tecto:

«Nenhuma relação funciona quando existe sempre uma pessoa a lutar e outra a desistir.»

LIFE

She never thought one year and few months later she would be standing exactly where she is. She had achieved a beautiful peace of mind. All the anger inside of her had disapeared. For ever, she hopes. Now she sees everything cristal clear. A year and few months ago, someone broke her world. She thought her life was ended in that moment. She cried her eyes out every single night, wishing it was a nightmare. But it was not. It was the cruel truth and she had to deal with it. However, she was literally broke inside that she didn't have the strength to pick herself up from the floor. She was too fragile. For one year and few months she was too fragile.
Right now, she sees the whole experience as a lesson. She learned - in the bad way, for sure - how to deal with these situations from now on.
Now she's strong and it is with her strength she tells us:

«When you believe the world is over, stop! Just stop, don't even think about it. When you hit the ground for crying too much, get up. Pick all your pieces. Life is always turning round. And someday, life will smile to you again.»

Right now, life is smiling to her and she smiles back.

Entender

Não peças para entender. Não peças. Eu já tentei compreender-te. Compreender o que dizes, o que fazes e como o fazes. Já tentei entender o porquê que o fazes. Não entendo. Acho que nem tu. Portanto, não peças algo que nem tu consegues. Se me pedires para ser paciente e esperar. Eu espero. Espero que te entendas e espero que venhas falar comigo. Espero sobretudo que entendas que não te entenda.

Outra vez

- Conta-me outra vez aquela história.
- Qual? Nós temos tantas. Qual delas queres ouvir hoje?
- Aquela da praça velasquez, pode ser?
- Tu gostaste mesmo dessa noite, não foi?
- Adorei.
- Eu conto. Então é assim. Mais uma vez fomos para a praca velasqez mas desta vez era a noite ... Fomos para o mesmo sitio de sempre. Ia ser mais uma vez juntos e nós gostavamos de estar juntos .. Começou tudo com uma conversa, mas essa conversa tornou-se num momento especial, muito especial .. Foi a primeira vez que nos sentimos tao juntos, por isso é que estavamos tão nervosos ... Adorei a sensacao. Repetia tudo again ! - disse ele.
- Adorei.

"The" conversation

- I can't. I can't do this anymore. Us. I don't feel you with me. When we are together, your mind is somewhere else. I can feel it! I don't like it. I can't stand it. Not anymore...
She is no longer looking at his eyes while he is talking like she did in the last two times he came out with this conversation. This is the third time they are having "the" conversation. Usually she says anything to calm him down but today she is quiet. And, surprisingly she doesn't want to say anything.
-... You are different - he says -, even more different than the past year. We are together for... three years, right Sofia?
He holds her hand tight. She looks at him and see sadness. She doesn't know what to say this time. She is sick and tired of this issue. She can only say:
- I am sorry you feel that way. I didn't mean. I didn't mean to hurt you. I like you. I do. I am trying to give you the best of me. The best I can. But it seems it is not good enough. We keep having this conversation. (...) For you I am always distant. I am sorry. All I can say is that. I am sorry.
- But I don't want that. I don't want you to apologise. That's not it. I love you. I want to feel you are with me. Sofia, I love you like I never loved anyone. Do you hear me? But I don't think you love me. No, let me finish...
He stands up and starts to walk in circles. It is obvious he is nervous.
- ... I need to ask you one thing.... Uh... Oh, how do I say this? ... Uh, will you love me someday? I mean, for real ?
The sadness is still in his eyes. He is staring at her wishing to hear the answer he wants to hear. She stands up and put her hands on his face and clean the tears around his eyes with her fingers. She take a deep breath and finally says:
- I am sorry but my heart has already been stolen.

Dear Valentine,

These are the things I never told you. These are the things I need you to know. That I loved you always. It wasn't a first sight love, but a love that grew and grew. And my love was so big, it lives still after you're gone. I'd like to tell you that I would do it differently. That if I had one more chance I would do everything right. But I know that isn't true. I'd make everything again. I'd make all the same mistakes. But trust me that I learnt. Now I take iniciative. I fight for what I want. I would fight for you but it seems to me it's too late. It has been almost four years since you've left. But the love is still here, inside of me. Because of you I live life every day like it is the last one. I don't think anymore how things will end, not anymore. I tried to forget you but everytime I do that, the feelings that I have for you, they just keep comming back. I love you. I knew it then and I know it now. I know it always, you're IT. You're my one. If I could turn back time, I do it all over again, for sure. That is except one. I would say goodbye.

Love