About that feelingA Story by Caio EmmanuelAbout feelings, it's names, and how hard it is to define them. Some stuff I needed to get off of my chest a couple years ago, about a ex-girlfriend.July, 17.
2008. Do some
things come back? Or did they just run through our lives one only time… With
the only purpose that we get to know them. You know? Once, and never again. And
then, just memories e memories. And a few photographs. I have the photographs, a lot of them, but I
don’t like to look at them. I know I won’t feel anything in seeing her again,
but I don’t like it. I don’t like to feel anything. Maybe I still wanted to
fell a thing. Maybe we really could have worked it out. But she cheated on me
so many times, why do I even think about it? … It’s not
something that stays in my mind. It’s not something that I think of everyday,
nor every week, nor every month. But it occurs me from time to time… “What
if…?” And then I
ask me: What if what? If she hasn’t moved away? If she hasn’t cheated on me? Or
if she had move and came? Well, I think if relationships depended on “What if”,
all of them would work out. All of us would be married, in love, with children
and everything else. But that’s not how it works. Actually, it
works like nothing, exactly. I still don’t get it. Get love. I also
didn’t got it about love with her. But it seemed something really close to
that. Close enough to love. I think the right name isn’t passion, either. … They should make up more words to express feelings. Some many words for stupid things… What about the feelings? So few. What goes a little beyond passion and
a lot before love? Anybody tell me? Yeah. By the way,
I’m asking myself why did I started thinking about her. Well, I got the answer
to that. My internet went off (ridiculous right?) and I decided to do something
that god me busy. I opened my Poetry folder and started reading them. One by
one, since the first ones. Most of them was to some girl I liked. Some of these
poetries I really liked. Some of them are good. Some of them are futile. But I
think at least half of them was written to one single person, one single girl. A girl to
whom I had this feeling (We haven’t decided the name, right?). And this feeling
gave me a way to several words. Several poetries. Some strophes got real close
to it. But I don’t like defining things with sentences. I like defining them
with words. Define me
with one word? Easy. I’m different. Easy.
That’s how I define myself. The reason why is another thing. Maybe I write
about it later, If my internet doesn’t come back. Well, back
on. I was reading these poetries. E I
realized each one of them had a feeling. Let’s put it in numbers… Let’s say
after her, I liked four girls. And all the poetries to these four girls had a
common feeling. The “liking”. The “fire”, the “moment”. All other poetries,
made for HER, have other feeling. Yup, that feeling. Nameless, right? That’s
right. What I wrote in the top, about things getting back. It’s not that I want
her to come back. I want back what I felt for her. Because I remember I liked
it a lot. I remember I got used to that with ease. And I took to a while to get
unused to it. How do you define something that’s easy to get used to and hard to get unused to? One word: Necessary. I think it
is, yes. I think I need that feeling again. That feeling. Those hours I spent
enjoying all the beautiful words I had to write about. All because of that
feeling . Inspiring, that I remember. It hurted, sometimes, but who cares to
s**t like this. Everything hurts. Everything. Nothing is
100% good for something. You can be saving someone’s life in a OR, but you
could be doing something better. Everything we do, by most amazing it may seem,
takes us to some other thing we must do. And that’s what hurts. We’ll never get
there. But that’s
good. Getting there must suck, listen to me. I want that
thing back and I have tried to look for, but I don’t think that’s how I’ll find
it. It’s like, in basketball, shooting a free throw. You stand there in the
live, with the ball in hands and the basket in front of you. If you try to
push, If you shoot when you want, you’ll miss. You have to wait. To know how to
“listen” to the moves of your body and get the harmony. It’s automatic. The
shot will come out without you noticing, and you’ll make it. Simple. But life
ain’t f*****g basketball and the feeling I want is not as primitive as a
basket. It’s not
just about finding the… Sorry, about the feeling finding me. It’s about having
the feeling about the right person. Am I wanting too much? You bet, I am. I have even
already thought to have found the right person. But didn’t found the right
feeling. Of course,
other than that, I still have to conquer the person. Make her want to be with
me, but that’s the last step of the objective. That’s the harmony I want. Thanks for
listening to me, I needed to get it off of my chest. I realized how I felt
meanwhile writing here. *Laughs* Who needs a shrink when you got time and a
computer? © 2010 Caio EmmanuelAuthor's Note
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Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5 StatsAuthorCaio EmmanuelRio de Janeiro, BrazilAboutIf there was a perfect way of describing me I promise you I'd post it here. There's not, though, so here it goes some stuff: I'm 19 years old, I've been writing stories, mostly about fantasy, since I .. more..Writing
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