Love Is So Short And Oblivion Is So Long…

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

Write, for example: “The night is starry,
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.”

The night wind turns in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.
I loved her and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I also loved her.
How could I not have loved her big staring eyes.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.
To think that I do not have her. Feeling I’ve lost her.

Hear the inmense night, even more without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to grass.

Does it matter that my love could not keep it.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

That is all. In the distance someone sings. In the distance.
My soul is not content with having lost it.

As if to bring her closer, my gaze seeks her.
My heart seeks her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, those of then, are no longer the same.

I don’t love her anymore, it’s true, but how much I loved her.
My voice sought the wind to touch his ear.

Of other. Will be from another. As before my kisses.
His voice, his body clear. His infinite eyes.

I don’t love her anymore, it’s true, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, and oblivion is so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content with having lost her.

Although this is the last pain she causes me,
and these are the last verses that I write for her.

Pablo Neruda.

It’s over, there are no more. That pain seems eternal and it is heartbreaking. But nothing is, it has only come to teach you. You just have to climb another mountain, another obstacle that life has placed before you.

Heartbreak is a well as deep and painful as a cell shared with disappointment. Nuances, distances, bitter flavors …

But we must learn many things from the people we have to stop loving; among others, what we do not want in our life and what we do.

Love and lack of love make us, precisely, know our deep self. The one that we do not pay attention to in everyday life, that we leave in the background because it does not seem so important to us.

At first, when we do not believe that it is happening, we think that everything is a dream and that there are still ways to recover what was lost. Overcoming this phase is a play on the same as self-love.

Later, we may be flooded with rage, anger, and the need to find responsible people to explain what could have gone wrong. Later, if we maintain an active attitude, sadness, pain and our need to mourn the loss will follow.

But the acceptance of goodbye will come and, with it, the liberation of the soul. Love is so short and oblivion is so long … that on nights like this our interior will be content with having had them and lost them …