DEAR DIARY, TODAY I DID NOT CRY

Yes, dear imaginary reader, I have returned again to tell in letters and on blank pages a new existential crisis, this time it has lasted almost 30 years and has seen light for a little more than 12 months. How much can happen in a lifetime? Everything, although sometimes it seems like nothing, always, is too much. I've been around here wanting to write again, wanting to tell adventures that become a routine after a while. I have wanted to share and as always, I have been afraid. But well, I hope next time it won't take me so long to come here to unburden myself, I hope next time to keep talking about love.

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Dear diary, today I did not cry, that was how that page of my diary began and made me realize that I was measuring my degrees of tranquility with my shed tears. -Today, I did not cry-.

I have not cried for several months of deep and indescribable sadness. I have been, on the contrary, radiating deep and indescribable happiness for several months. “Be very happy” they told me after a long hug and a goodbye, which I was sure would not be a "see you later", that day I also cried, I felt a tear running down my cheek as I left, I shook the life out of me and threw myself on the dance floor. I think that's how it all began, embracing that goodbye and accepting that advice.

This is another love story, mine, welcome to what could be for a moment your most tickling or disappointing experience. Let yourself be seduced by a sigh in your neck, and open your belly to feel how a broken heart gives life to a new being.

Back then the days were long and dark, everything weighed on me and my greatest accomplishment was getting out of bed. I would grab my bike to go to work. I remember arriving, jumping on the little truck that took me everywhere and starting to carry boxes, until a twinge in my chest reminded me that I was not well, sometimes I did not make it and went to the bathroom, of course to cry, and so on for eight and a half hours until I grabbed my bike again and returned home, a home that ceased to be a shelter. I don't remember well how much time passed, but a ridiculous fear and some little voices in my head kept me in that state for months, months, months... Until that day that I saw her, she was staring at me with watery eyes and finally after a long time we stopped evading each other, she was a person I no longer recognized, but I wanted her back.

So I grabbed my broken pieces, packed them in a couple of suitcases, wrote a letter and left. I left with her, first I took her out to live, to a small space but for her, I hugged her and we cried without knowing that what we were feeling was that fear of being with ourselves, we had a broken heart, a broken soul and a messy life, but finally after a long time we were together, she and I, me and her, that being that blurred, she, was me and I didn't recognize her.

Outside the world was still the same, people asked how life, work and love were going, they told me things that didn't agree with my reality like that I was being inspiring or that I was achieving many things, while in my parallel life she and I cried, and we grabbed our pieces one by one to mend them. I felt like I wasn't pretty enough, stable enough, creative enough, capable enough, skilled enough, enough, that I wasn't anything. Along the way, I came to have a broken heart, a broken ego, a broken arm, a broken economy, and a completely distorted reality.

Being broken inside hurts in the body, but, it is not seen and then it seems like a lie, a figment of the imagination. I find it hard to think that loving someone can lead to such pain and no, it is not about love, it is about managing the situation, it is about honesty, about agreements, but above all about caring for the other. Loving then becomes that arduous work of detachment, of letting go, letting go of that idea of the other, that idea of the two that in the end is only an idea.

I want to think that that deep love turned into a real love, I want to think that having crashed into that idea, so head first, so head on, so insensitive, was the way to finally see myself face to face and recognize myself, without needing the validation of the other, being with me, finally after all my years with others, to see myself face to face and face -me-, to love me madly, uncontrolled and deeply!

These days I realized that it has been a year since I made the decision to leave that painful circle, to grab my pieces and start mending them and I smiled, I realized on the first page of my diary that I had not cried that day either and I decided to celebrate. To celebrate a year of the deepest and most sincere love I have been able to experience, that love that makes me visible with myself, that embraces me in difficult moments and holds me so as not to allow them to pass over me or the values I build.

Far from being completely mended, I find myself in a state of visible and incomplete seams and I embrace those spaces that have yet to be filled. I am in a state of absolute gratitude for that stormy road that reminds me day by day that what I was looking for or waiting for outside was actually inside me.

The celebration included cake and candles, but above all friends, because I dedicated myself to build healthy and stable bonds from care, I strengthened those that were incomplete and learned to forge new ones and I can say that I have survived this year thanks to them. I overcame prejudices, fears, laziness, excuses and connected with the thinkable and the unthinkable, I connected from a genuine place, from my place.

I started to play again, to dance, to make strange faces and to smile for no reason at all, I left aside that fortress that I thought was protecting me and on the contrary was hiding me and I started to say yes to everything, to be genuinely positive, to make jokes about life and to find love in any corner. I embraced that unknown being and began to recognize her, to recognize me.

Dear diary, today I cried again, but this time from happiness. I came back to stay, with me and with those who resonate with this being I am becoming!

P.S.1. This person who writes believes more and more in herself. If you got this far, tell her something nice, it is always a good time.

P.S.2. In this last year and with this recognition, Craft Telling, my project of social innovation from craft and stories, has been flourishing from this genuine place and from this self love, for others and the environment, this love story has a lot to do in the process. I wish to continue sharing it here.

CHEERS! FOR THE BROKEN HEARTS, FOR MENDING FROM CONSCIOUSNESS AND LOVE, CHEERS! FOR LOVE AND HEARTBREAK, CHEERS! FOR FRIENDS, FOR THE PATHS,CHEERS! CHEERS! CHEERS! CHEERS!