Thursday, February 14, 2008

Your Thirteen Faults. A Touch of Humor


Although this may look like a litany, it is important to understand its great truth. You have some difficult things and I am going to tell you:
First Fault: When you come home from work, I go to meet you. You never come to meet me. You do not run to give me a kiss just as if I was a glass of water and you were thirsty in the desert. I always have to ask you: "How was your day?" And then, I approach you as if I was the he-spider with fear that you are going to eat me.
Second Fault: The fact is that you put too much salt when you cook. Your soups taste like sea water.
Third Fault: You dress as if you were the enemy.
It seems like I am a crow and you want to frighten me.
Fourth Fault: You use makeup as a goddess but you use it to go out. I often think that I better give you a date away from home so I can see you looking great.
Fifth Fault: I get home ready to ask you out for dinner. " Let's go out to eat, let's take a walk, or let's go to any place that you want to." I tell you.
You look at me with a languid, indifferent face, which make you look like post surgery of the heart. Then, we do not go out.
Sixth Fault: This fault happens all day long. I try to speak to you and you answer like a nun belonging to another planet, which means, that you do not say a word. You look around just as if you were lost in the room. When I talk to you again, I realize that you are on an special training and soon will depart for the moon because you do not make any comment about what I said.
Seventh Fault: This fault is truly exquisite. I bring some nice gift to you and you become as happy as the birthday candle, which soon goes out. I would like to have a million gifts to give. But this is not possible. The charm, the candle went out.
Eight Fault: When I give you a compliment: "How beautiful, how pretty, your eyes, your mouth" You remain rigid. I am sure that a shark can smile much better than you. It seems that you got an allergy attack, that your kidneys hurt or that your feet are bothering you.
And I ask myself: Will this be exorcism, possession? Because for no reason, you twist your eyes and you turn your mouth like licking a candy that you do not life.
Ninth Fault: When I want to approach you, I feel that I am going on an skate and you are going in a supersonic train. I am the turtle and you are the hare. I take one step forward and you go one hundred steps back.
Tenth Fault: I will claim here that I try to create a romantic ambience, soft music, soft light, nice words, romantic comments. And in that moment, the big transformation happens. I was running and to my horror, the butterfly has turned into a spider who has so much web that did not even listened to me. You change the topic, you put another music, you light all the lights and it seems that you are going to shoot me.
Eleven Fault: This one is very special. I start approaching you, I understand that this is war and I want to gain territory.
When I think that everything is ready, when I think that I have convinced you, the bird flies away. You disappear. It looks like a trick of television . You are gone. I don't see you. How did you do it? I don't know. I am alone with my bread and my song.
Twelve Fault: Many surprising things happen in this occasion. I approach you full of hope, with the best intention. You already have placed eighteen walls and traps. It is a marathon. It is lucky that I have walked through snow. I have fought with dragons, I have been bitten by toads and sharks and what to say about the snakes. And also, I have tried to please you in everything and your response is an infinite silence, only understood by the dead. And I tell myself: The cemetery must be a cold and distressful place, like this.
Thirteen Fault: We reach the last fault, the most difficult to overcome. This one adds to the other ones and much more that you have done and I do not know about. For all this, the most serious fault is that I say that by earth and heaven, by you and by God, will never, never be able to stop loving you.

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