Fragmentos de un descenso. [Esp-Eng]
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Martha miró una última vez más sus manos. Estaban pintadas de un vívido rojo que resaltaba en su pálida y grisácea piel. Había pasado alrededor de treinta minutos tratando de eliminar los restos de pintura que siempre quedaban en sus dedos. Era tan torpe que no se percató de la gran mancha rojiza que estaba esparcida por las sábanas azul marino que le había regalado su madre en navidad.
—Esto es un asco, Marshall. Soy un total fracaso, no puedo ni pintar mis uñas sin ocasionar un desastre. ¿Ahora te das cuenta por qué te digo que no sirvo para nada? No entiendo cómo hago para mantenerme viva. Quizá tú eres mi motivo, pastelito.—le dijo con ternura a su gato. Esperando, anhelando una respuesta. Pero claro, los gatos no hablaban y ella era una simple mujer veinteañera, solterona y sin amigos.
Mientras se levantaba de la cama, solo podía pensar en que su vida no siempre fue así. Meses atrás, todo era diferente. Tenía una estilo de vida bastante estable, una relación en la que invirtió la mayor parte de su adolescencia y principios de adultez. Pero de un momento a otro, todo se desplomó. Su novio la dejó, sus amistades igual y lo único que pudo conservar fue su mísero trabajo que no le producía ni una pizca de felicidad, al menos ayudaba a saldar sus cuentas. Su mascota, un pequeño y regordete gato que rescató dos años atrás, fue lo único que su antigua pareja no se llevó.
Los días pasaban lentos, aburridos. Se sentían como esas canciones que se repiten una y otra vez en la radio llegando a un punto en que un solo verso llega a ser irritante. Hundida en la monotonía y el abismo de su desdicha, ella únicamente se limitaba a quejarse, llorar y culpar a alguien externo a su persona. Porque claro, ella sabía lo mal que estaba y que potencialmente la culpa recaería en sí misma. Pero, en sus pensamientos, era mejor la idea de culpar a Sebastián o a sus amigos por haberlo elegido a él.
Ahora, agradecida con su anciana vecina que le compartía la clave del internet. Su vida se centraba básicamente en ver alguna que otra película y tener conversaciones con Marshall, quien estaba recostado sobre una de sus mantas. solo la miraba mientras movía su cola con elegancia y lentitud.
—¿Sabes? Es curioso. A pesar de que no hablas, siento que me has escuchado más de lo que algún ser humano. Eso es bastante triste. ¿No lo crees?—caminó a pasos lentos hacia la pequeña ventana de un marco blanco y desgastado.
El otoño estaba llegando, podía sentir la brisa chocar con su cara, no era molesto. Realmente le gustaba.
—Siento que solo somos la soledad que yace entre estas cuatro paredes, tú y yo. Extraño las palabras bonitas que decía Sebastián. A pesar de que lo odio, extraño la atención que me daba. Supongo por eso se cansó de mí. No sabía amarlo correctamente.—respiró hondo y se mantuvo así por unos segundos hasta que exhaló con fuerza mientras sus manos se encerraban en un puño.
Odiaba llegar a casa y no encontrar a nadie para sentarse y conversar de su día. Hacía mucho tiempo desde la última vez que alguien le preguntó cómo se sentía. En ocasiones, incluso se sentaba en la parada del tren por largos minutos, esperando que el tiempo pasara rápido. Odiaba su trabajo, pero era la única vía de escape que tenía de su mísera realidad.
—Ya no tengo fuerzas. No me queda nada. ¡Mírame!, mírame bien.— con sus manos, hizo ademanes en su flacuchento cuerpo. Sus manos eran huesudas y sus nudillos estaban pintados de un mítico color rosado, debía de hidratar su piel, ya podía sentirse un poco escamosa.—¡lo he perdido todo!
Su voz se percibía temblorosa, la angustia hacía eco en aquella habitación con olor a cigarrillo añejado. Lágrimas empezaron a caer por sus ojos y su cuerpo perdió toda la fuerza que se obligaba a reflejar, jamás pensó en romperse de esa forma. Pero ahí estaba, desmoronada en las baldosas de lo que en algún momento fue testigo de su felicidad.
dudó en llamar a su madre, demostrarle lo rendida que estaba y que deseaba volver a aquel pueblito Inglés dónde se crio. Pero si lo hacía, tendría que dejar todo atrás y atenerse a las consecuencias de regresar. Nunca se llevó del todo bien con su progenitora, quizá las malas decisiones de esta recayeron en ella y por eso le iba tan mal en la vida. Siempre ha sospechado que está pagando alguna maldición kármica.
Le costaba aceptar que podía afectarle algo tan mínimo como perder una amistad o una relación. Quizá lo que le dolía era el hecho de que no la hayan preferido a ella antes que a él. Le resultaba tan absurdo, ¿acaso ella era la que había faltado? Jamás, siempre estuvo para él y cada que la necesitaba, ella estaba ahí. Se maldijo una y mil veces cuando cayó en cuenta lo idiota que había sido. Algunas veces incluso piensa en romper todas esas copas de vino que logró recuperar en la gran mudanza que hizo apenas él se fue de casa. Era lo único que le quedaba y aun así se negaba a botarlas, eran su tesoro más preciado.
Reflexionar en todo hizo que su llanto se intensificara, lágrimas saldas bajaban por sus pómulos puntiagudos y caían sobre sus resecos labios. Marshall podía sentir lo mal que se sentía, así que con su cola moviéndose lentamente bajó de la cama y fue directamente hasta donde ella se encontraba, proporcionándole suaves caricias con su pomposa cola.
ENGLISH
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Martha looked one last time at her hands. They were painted a vivid red that stood out against her pale, grayish skin. She had spent about thirty minutes trying to remove the remnants of paint that always remained on her fingers. He was so clumsy that he didn't notice the large reddish stain that was strewn across the navy blue sheets his mother had given him for Christmas.
-This sucks, Marshall. I'm a total failure, I can't even paint my nails without making a mess. Now do you see why I'm telling you I'm useless? I don't understand how I keep myself alive. Maybe you're my reason, cupcake," she said tenderly to her cat. Waiting, longing for an answer. But of course, cats didn't talk and she was a simple, single, friendless woman in her twenties.
As she got out of bed, all she could think about was that her life wasn't always like this. Months ago, everything was different. She had a fairly stable lifestyle, a relationship in which she invested most of her adolescence and early adulthood. But all of a sudden, it all came crashing down. Her boyfriend left her, her friends left her, and the only thing she could keep was her miserable job, which didn't bring her a shred of happiness, but at least it helped pay her bills. Her pet, a small, chubby cat she rescued two years ago, was the only thing her former partner didn't take with him.
The days passed slowly, boringly. They felt like those songs that are repeated over and over again on the radio reaching a point where a single verse becomes irritating. Sinking into the monotony and abyss of her unhappiness, she could only complain, cry and blame someone outside herself. Because of course, she knew how bad it was and that potentially the blame would fall on herself. But, in her thoughts, she was better off blaming Sebastian or his friends for choosing him.
Now, grateful to her elderly neighbor who shared her internet password. Her life was basically centered around watching the occasional movie and having conversations with Marshall, who was lying on one of her blankets, just looking at her as he wagged his tail gracefully and slowly.
-You know? It's funny. Even though you don't talk, I feel like you've listened to me more than any human being ever has. That's pretty sad, don't you think so," she walked with slow steps to the small window with a worn white frame.
Autumn was coming, he could feel the breeze bumping against his face, it wasn't annoying. He really liked it.
-I feel like we're just the loneliness that lies between these four walls, you and me. I miss the nice words Sebastian used to say. Even though I hate him, I miss the attention he gave me. I guess that's why he got tired of me. I didn't know how to love him properly.-he took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds until he exhaled loudly as his hands balled into a fist.
He hated coming home and finding no one to sit and talk about his day. It had been a long time since the last time someone had asked him how he was feeling. Sometimes he would even sit at the train stop for long minutes, waiting for the time to pass quickly. He hated his job, but it was the only escape he had from his miserable reality.
-I have no strength left. I have nothing left. Look at me, take a good look at me," he gestured with his hands at his skinny body. Her hands were bony and her knuckles were painted a mythical pink color, she had to moisturize her skin, it could already feel a little flaky, I have lost everything!
Her voice was trembling, the anguish echoed in that room with the smell of stale cigarettes. Tears began to fall from her eyes and her body lost all the strength it was forced to reflect, she never thought of breaking down like that. But there she was, crumbling on the tiles of what had once witnessed her happiness.
She hesitated to call her mother, to show her that she was exhausted and that she wanted to return to the English village where she grew up. But if she did, she would have to leave everything behind and face the consequences of returning. She never got along well with her mother, maybe her mother's bad decisions fell on her and that's why she was doing so badly in life. He has always suspected that he is paying some karmic curse.
She found it hard to accept that she could be affected by something as minimal as losing a friendship or a relationship. Perhaps what hurt him was the fact that they had not preferred her to him. It was so absurd to him, was she the one who had failed? Never, she was always there for him and whenever he needed her, she was there. He cursed himself a thousand times when he realized what an idiot he had been. Sometimes he even thinks about breaking all those wine glasses he managed to recover in the big move he made as soon as he left home. They were all he had left and yet he refused to throw them away, they were his most precious treasure.
Reflecting on it all made her crying intensify, salty tears running down her pointed cheekbones and falling onto her parched lips. Marshall could sense how bad she felt, so with his tail wagging slowly he climbed down from the bed and went straight to where she lay, providing gentle caresses with his pompous tail.
Traducido con el traductor DeepL