From my new book, ONE MOMENT IT'S ME, ANOTHER MOMENT IT'S HER.
- I will not
allow my mind to wander between judgments, thoughts and embarrassing
situations, trying to denigrate it with nonsense and uncontrollable hatred.
After all, it never crossed my mind to abandon my family or my daughter's life.
But I know that for my wife, I am and will always be her true death trust.
After all, what is life, love and hate in the same dimension? If there is
reason in her thoughts and in her words, what does it matter to me whether I
comply or not, if she herself can never conceive of me as a blameless man? Biel
thought about having her the same way he always had her in his love.
The days
passed as if in a surrealist vision, like an unbearable burden, which he
carried in silence, a disturbance of his heart in a trance of love for someone
who didn't love him. And that silence remained immutable, added to his being
like a greenish amalgam, impregnating his life, his feelings, and emotions,
preventing him from running to the empty places of his intimate, intangible
freedom. During the night, while she slept, Biel watched her from under the dim
light of her room, where the night shadows gently adored them. But Biel only
watched over her deep sleep, her inaccessible mind, crying out for immediate
solutions, the rupture that enters the soul and made her cool off from the
day-to-day dilemmas, like a veil that obscures her eyes. How long does the
vision of death last in the integrality of a human being who suffers the
insurmountable losses caused by the dualisms of life? Biel understood himself
as a man without fault, a father longed for frustrations arising from mere
causality. There was a blockade coming from the shadows of the night that
prevented him from free flight to the dimension of peace of mind, an imaginary,
impenetrable wall. How long would both suffer such a duality, love and hate
permeating their being, at the same time and without interruption?
As we said,
the days passed like a night bird, alone, but the dimension of pain seemed to
insist, overwhelming your dreams, your joys, and until when could we fall into
that bottomless pit that life is transparent?
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