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I did my third dose of Pfeizer a couple of days ago and had no major problems, in fact it definitely went much better than I expected.
In these almost 3 years of transition due to the pandemic, I have found myself thinking often but I have never been able to process these thoughts and write them down, so most of them have unfortunately been inexorably lost.
I don't have much time really, when I do stop I prefer to distract myself from the thoughts, just to avoid the negative ones.
Today, however, I happened to reread this writing of almost 6 years ago and I found it beautiful and melancholic.
I hope you like it too.
You have to love all of a man, every flaw.
You have to look at him in every grimace, every scar, wrinkle and white hair.
You have to run your hands over his chin in the morning as soon as you wake up, be pricked by his barely-there beard.
You have to look into his eyes over and over, learn his angles, avoid his edges without ever blunting them.
You have to peer into his grimaces, plumb the depths of his silences, count his syllables.
Sometimes they don't speak exactly like you, they go to hide in a thought who knows how far away and who knows where.
You must love him all, never forget to kiss him and caress him, he has his weaknesses that are sometimes much greater than yours.
I often wonder how much I love a man, as I keep drawing me one to measure, with a thousand imperfections. I turn everything upside down for him, because I'm not perfect and because I want him crazy.
I stare into space and with my fingertips I trace him, sure.
Mine is missing hair, has amber skin, two sky-colored dagger eyes and is full of scars; many are drawn trophies, too many are inside...
I loved all of this man, in every facet, even when he roared and scratched.
He chose pride as he always does, when he runs away from everything he thinks he can do without....
He's selfish, but he's also so tired.
Even though he gave me little of it and never told me, I saw the love in him, he spread it everywhere, he just decides to cover it with his blanket of anger. He covered me in it too... Tucking me into bed with the deepest, heaviest absence I've ever known.
I should have chosen to run away too, but I really can't: my soul chose to love him, love him in everything.