Bleeding Roads (Short English Stories)

02. hurried pains

You are running hurriedly. All hurried, you are running fast, striding on floor created by men; cement floor that is not natural. You want nature, not artificials. You hit on the gray floor, gray like your soul on this moment, because you're sad. You blame the floor, you blame the colorless world, because you blame death too— it steals color from everything that surrounds you.

Today death ruined you by taking away someone you held dear.

But I don't want you to get discouraged. I want you to cry if it's necessary, because you are sensitive but you're also strong, so you'll get through this. There's no reason to give up, you've always thought that after all, so listen to your own advice. Oh yes, the advice, the advice that you used to give every time, without never pulling through them yourself; the advice you can't follow right now.

How can you not blame everything and everyone? Can you not see everything gray? How can you stand still?

Pain for that symbol that guided you and was always there— pain because he is not anymore and will not ever be again. Well let me tell you you're wrong. He is, still is, and will always be. Maybe not physically, maybe not how you'd like it to, but maybe the way it's supposed to be, because everything happens for a reason. And don't worry now for that being that isn't a living, which you love, because he takes care of you and I of him. Just please, take care of yourself. Let go of the past that isn't anymore; be the past, and let the present be: do not rush ahead. Take care of yourself because you're free and your loved one cannot do as much as you can do for yourself if you allow yourself to be just as necessarily strong as you need to be not to collapse.

Cry, let everything out; speak and don't stay quiet. Dry your tears when the moment comes and learn from your experience to keep on giving the advice you love to give, now that they're more useful because you've really experienced what you're advising.

You're not perfect, but I'm asking you not to break, because you're precious to me. Nobody is perfect, so I ask you to take advantage from this pain (without breaking) and preach with words and actions that help people on your reach not to break either, like now I'm asking you not to so you can do this.

And I know that my petition is impossible for what you suffer right now, and I know you're angry with me, but the darkness that took your loved one didn't kill him, just gave him another life that isn't yours. So live it. Live your life and go on.

Death is just a second in your magnitudes of time, to become an eternal moment in another life, so you see: it's not death, it is life.

The leg with which you hit the floor hurts and it gives you a cramp, but it doesn't hurt like your heart and your acid tears, so you turn around and come back where you came from, to heal your invisible wounds and dry your humid cheeks.

And I'm telling: you'll be fine. Just allow yourself to be, taking the time necessary.

Because someplace in the world, someplace in time, someone's going to be on the same darkness you're now in and you're going to be needed as the one to be the light for that person. Because that's why this kind of pains are so symbolic; to learn and teach, this repeating itself for life, like a circle.

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a.n: This is indeed translated from spanish but I really love it, so please tell me your opinion, notes, votes and please do correct me on anything that's wrong too :D