Cabizbaja y taciturna, recorro las calles que en un momento fueron el escenario de brillantes y gloriosos momentos que viví; tránsito a paso lento, a fín de que los recuerdos hermosos se adueñen de mí y sanen la intensa herida de mi corazón.

Con mucha ingenuidad, busco revivir nuevamente lo que en un tiempo me hizo feliz. Atormentada con mi presente, le pido hospedaje al pasado; pero no quiso recibirme.

Le imploré permitirme ser su protagonista, quedarme atada a el, especifícame en aquellos momentos que me hicieron sentirme viva a plenitud. El pasado no consintió, pero yo insistí con vehemencia.

El pasado, con mucha sabiduría, me mencionó que saldría más lastimada. Aún así, yo deseaba vivir en el. Después de tanto suplicarle, me permitió estar un corto espacio de tiempo.

Hermosos recuerdos, llegaron a mi mente, pero la herida persistía y el dolor a cada minuto se agudizaba. El percibir que mi pasado fue mejor que mi presente, me desgastó. Tambalee, sentí que desmayaba, no vislumbraba el amanecer, la agonía me consumía, la espera me debilitaba.

Continué mi sendero, tratando de pescar un momento memorable, de pronto me saludó la culpa; llevaba una sonrisa irónica y meneando la cabeza me hizo sentir responsable del opulento dolor que llevaba a cuesta.

Acompañada de la culpa y de sus persistentes e hirientes razonamientos, perdía fuerzas; ya no podía caminar. Me senté en una acera para descansar, tomar aire y seguir. Con mis ojos cerrados imploré al Ser Supremo que me ayudara a soportar el dolor.

Las punzadas de mi herida fueron disminuyendo, mientras elevaba mis plegarias; un cielo tachonado de estrellas me abrazó y me hizo sentir protegida. Mi corazón atribulado, comenzó a ignorar las estocadas de la culpa y mi médula espinal se renovó.

Me levanté, seguí caminando, necesitaba salir de esa calle. Ya no quería buscar refugio en recuerdos, lo que necesitaba era encontrar la gallardía que se precisa para enfrentarse al presente cruel. Te encontraré, aunque aún siento dolor, mi esperanza es mayor.

Transitaré calles nuevas, haré de mi vida una historia inédita. Con acuarela pintaré mi presente y con la esperanza desapareceré el dolor que me ha impedido avanzar por estar anclada al pasado. Tiempos buenos, aquí los espero. Prometo solemnemente, ser una buena anfitriona.

English Versión

Happy afternoon, friends of Hive. I greet you with much affection, wishing each of you well. Today, I wish to expose through the following poetic prose, how foolish it is to evade our present and take refuge in the past. Even if we have nice stories to remember, we must do so with the awareness that they are part of the past. We cannot turn back time, so let's take the time necessary to improve our present; without being distracted by our past. From the bottom of my heart, I hope you can read this prose and that it is to your liking.

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Sharp, piercing pain, you have lodged yourself in my heart, I feel as if you have taken a sample from me for a biopsy of emotions; you have left me a wound that prevents me from projecting the joy that characterizes me.

With my head down and taciturn, I walk the streets that once were the scene of brilliant and glorious moments I lived; I walk at a slow pace, so that the beautiful memories take possession of me and heal the intense wound in my heart.

With great naivety, I seek to relive again what once made me happy. Tormented with my present, I ask the past for lodging; but it did not want to receive me.

I implored it to allow me to be its protagonist, to stay tied to it, to specify those moments that made me feel alive to the fullest. The past did not consent, but I insisted vehemently.

The past, with much wisdom, mentioned to me that I would get hurt more. Still, I wanted to live in it. After so much pleading, it allowed me to stay for a short time.

Beautiful memories came to my mind, but the wound persisted and the pain grew sharper by the minute. The perception that my past was better than my present wore me down. I staggered, I felt I was fainting, I could not glimpse the dawn, the agony consumed me, the waiting weakened me.

I continued my path, trying to catch a memorable moment, suddenly guilt greeted me; I wore an ironic smile and shaking my head made me feel responsible for the opulent pain I was carrying.

Accompanied by guilt and its persistent and hurtful reasoning, I was losing strength; I could no longer walk. I sat down on a sidewalk to rest, take a breath and continue. With my eyes closed I implored the Supreme Being to help me endure the pain.

The pangs of my wound were diminishing, as I raised my prayers; a star studded sky embraced me and made me feel protected. My troubled heart began to ignore the stabs of guilt and my spinal cord was renewed.

I got up, kept walking, I needed to get out of that street. I no longer wanted to seek refuge in memories, what I needed was to find the courage to face the cruel present. I will find you, although I still feel pain, my hope is greater.

I will walk new streets, I will make of my life a new story. With watercolor I will paint my present and with hope I will disappear the pain that has prevented me from moving forward for being anchored to the past. Good times, here I wait for them. I solemnly promise to be a good hostess.

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