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Me duele la gente que prefiere no estar ahí. Que se esconde de detrás de conversaciones por tener y elije el vacío de las palabras no dichas para poner distancia entre los corazones. ¿Cuándo decidimos que era mejor darse por vencidos? Se me acumula la necesidad de decir algo. Y me pregunto por qué tengo que ser yo la que vuelva a tocar a la puerta que se me ha cerrado en la cara. Se me hace vieja la tristeza, y se me empolva el orgullo. Se agrían los recuerdos y relucen las veces que fui yo la que buscó, la que mantuvo e insistió. ¿Vale la pena volver a esos caminos o debería aceptar que no se me quiso de la misma manera que yo quiero? Me duelen 25 años de amistad que quedaron en nada. N.

Luchar contra el cansancio y la soledad. Contra las espectativas, contra el no llegar. Confiar no siempre es fácil, plenamente y sin reservas, confiar. Pero siempre vale la pena, a pesar del miedo, a pesar de no saber cuáles son los planes o los tiempos. Un paso más adelante, un paso más cerca. Un nuevo trabajo. Confiar. N.

I am stripping layers of feelings trying to understand the fears that assault me, that I don't recognise, but make my feel insecure and unprotected against my own thoughts.  A year has gone by and it still hurts. And now that I'm getting to know someone else I find myself wondering if the history is going to repeat it self.  I don't miss you. I don't miss us. What I do miss is the assurance of God's guidance.  I know that He is guiding me now, but the uncertainty that you left behind has made me try to secure my heart, hide it from harm, as if I could do such thing on my own.  Doubt creeps from the depths of my mind, am I good enough? Will this person see me behind my flaws? Will he love me just for who I am?  And for a moment I forget that I am voluntarily not in control, nor I intend to be. I have to conciously chose not to hurt for the damage that you left behind.  So I pray, to my Dad above. Father fill my heart with praise to You so

How am I going to tell you everything if I don't even know you yet? How will I be able to explain the depth of the change that the fucking cancer has brought to my life? And it's not only about having one less ovary, or the scars, or the tattoo. Hello, I'm Noemi and I had cancer. Oh, and I have, probably, PTSD. That's not a conversation starter that I want to use. And yet, somehow, I carry this bit of conversation around, waiting for the perfect moment to say it, if there's a "perfect" moment. I do things differently now. I care more and I care less. More for those persons that I love, those things that I like and those memories that I want to have. And less for time wasting things, time wasting people. The pain, the fear, the what if it's back. The sleepless nights, the tears, the wait. You were not there, I wsih you had so I wouldn't have to tell you about it. Maybe the changes in me wouldn't have been that deep if you'd