Awful was the word for the day. I felt bad about my girlfriend. I thought she no longer did love me--or if she did, I didn't like the way it was. I was frustrated. Frustration, pain, depression...these were the things--if not the demons--I hated most; which by far was happening to me. And I knew it was; and I must get rid of it.
I went to the beach nearby thinking that somehow feeling the sea breeze and hearing the sound of the waves, embracing the gift of nature would help me forget the things I hated most. And I knew I must.
In this place, with no one to disturb me, I realized that maybe the relationship I had had was not for me. Why couldn't my girlfriend understand me? Why did we keep on doing hurtful things, things to ruin our relationship? "Yes, maybe this relationship is not for me", I said to myself.
I decided to forget her--I should forget her. With all the joys and triumphs each wave brought to the sand, it all changed to sorrow and defeats and I didn't know why. I was afraid, maybe because I really did love her (so much), and to forget her was painful. But the terrible idea kept haunting me: This relationship is not for me.
With pain I wrote her name on the sand, marking the letters: O-P-H-E-L-I-A. On the shore where waves came with joy and triumphs would come in with rage and power to remove the name, the girl, the relationship that changed my life.
The first mighty wave came, roaring like beasts, splashing the sand with anger. It did erase but not the whole. When I tried to look at it, it's hardly readable; but I knew nothing changed. It was the same Ophelia who succeeded to change my life and capable of ruining it.
Then another beast came, savaging a greater part of the sand where I wrote her name. By now it, her name was almost gone; and I hoped at the time it would be gone, my thought --or perhaps my love--for her would also be gone (forever). Another wave, an ambitious one, came roaring ... and another one and another and another ....
Fool as I was, yes, I was a fool. I couldn't resist from shutting my eyes closed. When I opened them the seven letters, the name forming little canals in the sand was gone--totally gone. I felt as if something had gone off from me. I would be thankful if what I expected--frustrations, depression, pain--were the ones. But for the moment they were not; my tears fell from my eyes. But somehow, a bit of relief I experienced in this lonely beach: I had regained myself, my confident, powerful self, which had been tortured for a long while. On this haunted place I would leave all the pains Love brought to me; and I would also forget its bearer.
When tears were gone and the beauty of the sea refreshed my eyes, I walked along the beach, leaving the lonely place I cried. I couldn't resist myself to turn my head and look to the sand where a girl was laid and was taken out by the mighty beasts. I walked farther and farther to go home ....
It's nice to be back in the house happy, joyful, and triumphant--which by far was not I. I walked nearer to our house with confusion. Confused if the mighty beasts had really taken the girl; if the waves, which removed the little canals in the sand, had removed those same canals in my mind. Because I entered our house still remembering the name, the bearer of Love's torture in me ... and forming bigger canals in my heart:
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