Alas

 I curse myself sometimes-

-for wanting to see the world. And exploring mountains and caves and unknown places. Where nobody speaks my language. 

-for staying still. Silent and ignoring the life and the world around me. Refusing to move on. 

I curse myself for being like my mother - strong and silent and quiet and brave and stubborn. 

For wanting to see the world and forgetting that my roots are stronger than the wind. 

For breaking my soul in two, finding a new home in every different city and a friend to rely on, better than any lover. For breaking my heart every time I get into another airplane, speak another language, find another life.

I wish I could find solace and peace in my books, and my cats, and our small kitchen. But I cannot. 

My mother was a sailor before me: but she took an anchor, tied it to her neck, and had children and a husband and a brain that now looks like black coal. 

I am cursed. I chose to live so many lives, because I cannot deal with a single one. 

May this curse live longer than I do. May I find happiness and peace inside an airplane, inside my bed reading stories to my cats, speaking a language I cannot remember anymore.

May I live longer than my fears, and my hatred of love. 

Que siempre, siempre, pueda regresar al recuerdo luminoso de mi madre, para recordar que soy marinera.