El divorcio de mi amiga (English)


Sometimes when the decision is made, she
At the moment, he does not tell me,
Maybe, sure, it’s so traumatic,
That there is a delay that takes us away,
At that moment I feel
That he could have even embraced her.

Others, when the cause is having discovered
Something so painful, embarrassing, humiliating,
She hides it from me,
And only after a while and a probably forced talk
Little by little, she throws up her fury, her pain, her shame,
And then I get angry with her, and against him.

However the divorce is decided,
My friend, maybe I do not know
what in my decision hits.
She stays for a while,
And depending on how and why your separation has occurred,
As stunned,
Take distance, stunned from the pain, and mixed feelings.
Pain, fear, uncertainty,
The weight of putting a failure on your back,
Whose weight will be greater the greater the delivery has been.
in the equation of winning and losing the conquered

And I, your friend, writhed trying to position
To find the place next to her,
Respecting their distance and silence,
and feeling at the same time with the fault of not being,
Not to say, not to do …

We friends also divorced,
When our friends are separated.
We look forward to seeing how he will resurrect
After the impact, our life partner,
Expectants we observe as if groping
Find your new space, redefine, reinvent,
And with his armor alone, he takes out accounts.

I see her changing her home, and I know that, when she shows me the new one,
It is torn by the one left empty in a lottery without luck.
And decorate the new with a desperate desire to translocate memories,
As if I could move the hands of the children,
The growth marks made on the wall,
That wallpaper, which with a child’s bedspread matched.

And what I saw, the effort with which both of them once built that home,
I also say goodbye with great sorrow for what they lost;
But shut up, silence, Saying I can not.
I must give him strength. It must start again.
She my friend lost her home,
I her friend feel that I lost it with her.

Will she know how I feel With her ?;
I can not tell you, on the contrary, this is His grief.
I have to push her to leave that nest,
I must convince her of the not yet convicted,
Without ever knowing what I really wanted.

Be there with her, capturing four hands,
All his past there gone by,
Bottling laughter, images, sighs.
Everything that she had lived there,
To transport it with her, next to her,
To his new space, reconstituted,
With what he has touched, stayed, survived.

But. I could not. She has not left me,
Or maybe I have not insisted.
And the days, weeks and months go by.
If I’ve been lucky, I see her, I call her or I write her.
And she alone undertakes what they have decided.
Maybe that’s why it has no rest,
It needs strength, courage, armor.
And she locks herself in it, with her and her children,
Where I will not have place, but the allowed one;
For its dignity, integrity, and hopefully some forgetfulness.

There is if I could MIA friend tell you,
How much you lost to me has hurt me …
The impotence or anger of not being able to
The discomfort I feel because it has not happened to me!