Latest Blog Post

"A one-way ticket, please."

---

I bought a one-way ticket.

I didn't look at the arrival time, only the departure. It's the only thing that matters right now, this progressive distancing from the fixed point you were, that we were. A fixed point only on the map, though, because inside it was all a silent earthquake that you couldn't feel.

This journey is an act of defense, the only one I have left. A way to put kilometers between me and the deafening noise of your silence. For every word you never said, for every glance that passed through me without seeing me, there is now the steel of a rail. For every sigh I suppressed, there is the puff of this train carrying me away.

Through the window, the landscape rushes by, a blurred stain of colors and shapes, and I wonder what I am leaving and what I will find. I am leaving a version of myself who learned to walk on tiptoe so as not to disturb, to shrink her dreams to fit them into your distracted pockets. A me that I know by heart, but who no longer resembles me.

I don't know who will get off this train. I don't know if this distance I'm building like a wall will give me back a new person or just the pieces of the one I am now. And I'm scared. Scared that, once the pieces are assembled, I won't like the reflection I see. That this new skin, hardened by the journey and the loneliness, will no longer know how to recognize a caress.

Maybe I should have screamed, demanded your attention, but can you really ask someone to notice you? It would have been like asking the rain not to get you wet. So I packed my bag in silence, the same silence you left me in all this time.

This train doesn't have a final destination, but a purpose: to take me elsewhere. And in that elsewhere, perhaps, I will find someone I no longer have to fight to exist with. That someone, I hope, will be me.

---

---

Goodbye my lover

---