Laura Arasil – Like a butterfly
Like a butterfly flapping its wings to take flight to a new destination.
Like a butterfly that emerged from its small cocoon and was reborn fulfilling its dream of flying through the heavens. Like a butterfly, dazzling with its elegance and beauty those who are lucky enough to see it.
Like a butterfly that is just beginning its journey, trembling and fragile, with strength and the will to become everything that others affirm that it cannot become.
Like a pretty butterfly, happy and colorful, worth living in the most beautiful spring with the bad luck of having been born in a cold and dull winter where joy was nothing more than a passing legend that moved those who lost it and reached their ears of those who wished to have it.
A butterfly whose vivacious color was despised, repudiated and extinguished with the passage of time. A butterfly that lived in a world unworthy of its purity. A butterfly, trapped again in the same prison from which it once emerged.
A pretty, clumsy little butterfly that came into my life like a ray of light, with that smile capable of reaching deep inside me and, like a saving hand, taking me out of my darkest abysses that I had created myself.
A hand that I went to many times and all of them were there to save me. Eyes that were the purest image of tranquility, calm and serenity, capable of expressing that everything was fine even if it was not, of warming the coldest of hearts.
A voice capable of calming me by simply issuing my name and lips desired by mine from the beginning without me being aware. A smile capable of illuminating more than thousands of stars in a beautiful night full of them. Maybe she was a star.
A silly butterfly that stayed with me until the moment of leaving for a new life, a new opportunity to dazzle everyone where I did not feel included.
I, foolishly selfish, wanted that butterfly to stay with me, being myself the one who prevented it from flying and soaring through the skies to achieve what I dreamed the most. I was selfish, from start to finish.
Stupidly I thought that she felt no pain, that the smile that always showed me and the one that I wanted to fill with kisses was always real.
Despite having seen those eyes, how much calm they transmitted to me even in my greatest torments, crystallizing little by little in front of me, paralyzing at the moment without knowing what to say or what to think, just looking at her as she broke in front of me.
That same butterfly that, the times that I needed a shoulder to cry on without even asking for it, offered it to me without thinking twice.
That same butterfly that I myself had once despised, that I realized so late that I had not appreciated as it deserved.
She left and I couldn’t be reason enough for her to stay. I was not someone who begged for anyone and yet for her I would be able to do it on my knees, longing like a fool to return to my side.
Promise him to keep promises that I didn’t even have the courage to make except in my head for fear of breaking them. For fear of breaking, of losing you.
Tell me, would you come back to my side if I love you properly?
My little. my clumsy, pretty little butterfly … Would you fly to me once more if I swear that my love is eternal and I let you go?