Tomorrow

Jane.
An original written by Alexandra.

Luna de miel (1860-1934)
Cecilio Plá y Gallardo

It was a difficult day today, as was
yesterday. Today is a continuation
of yesterday’s saga of you misinterpreting
my words and me not hearing yours.

It is strange as there is nothing tangible
over which we fight. The love remains
present and perceptible between us – I
can see it propel the words that lash
from your mouth; I can feel it in your embrace
as you attempt to console me from
said lashing; I can see it stained on the walls
after a night of shooting misfired bullets
at one another. Yet, we continue to fight,
as we know the fight is rooted in our
own self-hating qualms. You know every
single one of mine and I yours, and we
become frustrated that we do not know
how to resolve it.

After hours of denying it, I tell you
what I feel is the problem and you transfigure
it into something different as you believe
the problem lies deeper. After hours of
being brutally honest, I no longer listen as
the words are too sharp and painful.

We both proclaim we can no longer
fight and continue this way, but the alternative
is no solution either. I have made my peace
that life is inherently lonely, but it is made
bearable with you in it. I would rather spar with
you than silently battle with phantoms and have
the house cling to the screams of our arguments
than the hauntings of our ‘what if’s’. So, while
yesterday was difficult and today being also,
I would rather it be so than anything else.

You have always said you do not
want to end up becoming your mother, for
she could never understand. I have always
said I do not want to end up mine, for
she never listened. Our tragedy is that we
became them. The miracle is that we can
still love one another.

I loved you yesterday, I loved you more
today, and despite, or rather, because of
it all, I will love you tomorrow.

Belmiro de Almeida, Lovers’ Quarrel (1887)
Rio de Janeiro