“It is not easy to say goodbye to whom we let in too far away, as it is not easy to break the ties that bind us to a memory, a sound, or the back of a smile. It is not easy to recognize the inertias of behavior and stop them. Remedy what is not wanted to be remedied is not easy, because inevitably we have hope and seek for it. And then we find it in silence in a gesture or an action that we reinterpret and also in immobility and fatigue; the eternal interpretation of signs. So, few times we say goodbye, so rarely we leave.
Nor no one gave us permission to enter wherever we entered, there where we often did hurt, and then later, without more, we left. And then we ignored the words we heard and perhaps, in our way, we all have been a little bit Silence: The tempo holders and the victorious soldiers. And then, we do not say goodbye, we just leave. Because maybe there is nothing safe we kept silent then and we are silent now.
And it is not easy to give up in a battle that has no final decision, that you can not settle or delimit with a line, wall or border. Therefore we lower the swords when we decide to do it. And then all the battles are over and everything takes the form of a war, because the war does not exists untill the battle has finished. And so the silence prevents from happening, that the battle overs so the swords remain high.
When did we realize that the person we love does not love us back? When did we think for the first time that it was possible that we were not in love anymore? What happens then when her hands, her smile and her neck do not matter anymore? What is then true in the things that we once said, in the verses we wrote or in the gestures we interpreted? Probably nothing, because nothing is done, nothing is true and nothing exists until it has been created.
The movement, perhaps, is the only answer, because in it there is the road and in it are the possibilities. But, what about before the action? What happened before seeing her for the first time, before the feelings? And then we remember a time before the love, a past where the beloved one was not there, and a past in which the wax figures had shape still. A moment in which the anxieties did not exist and only the present counted; in which there was no future and no hope and no expectations: Because they come later, the expectations, and they are no more than a pain tool.
It is not important to meet the right person if it is not in the right moment. That nothing exists without having a past, nothing exists without Time: the coordinate the locates and configures the history of events. So, perhaps, we should never love who did not love, or hurt the one who did hurt. But, do not we deserve to love and being loved to live?
Love does not necessarily have anything to do with what one deserves or not. Not necessarily.
And history tells us that there has been wars, that some battles have been lost, that there have been sheathed swords. It speaks of victories and defeats, winners and losers. The history then, our history, tells us about a perpetual farewell: a farewell to the battle. But not a good-bye to what we once felt. Only a stump that tends to be forgotten, but can be retrieved at any time. As the flare we shot that night some time ago and still shines in an infinite parable. There are always outstanding responses and outgoing messages. Always, while we have breath.
And in the night we remember: The lack of light eliminates external information and then our mind remembers. Because it can. In the dark we remember a time before the battle. We remember who we once were, and then we realize that we have not changed much: that essentially we are still that kid that was making sand castles in the beach and that was digging trenches to protect the wall. And we understand that actually everything has been a consequence of our choice. That it was us who decided to enter into the mainstream of the river and follow it downstream. That there are no tools for fighting for oblivion. That the defeats and victories, the champagne and its hangovers, the restraint and the excesses are only moments that have passed and will be remembered. Because they are a part of us, like the time where we lived and tasted them.
Thus, it is not possible to say good-bye. It is impossible.
E. Galois learned of the decision of the Temporal Council a few hours after his presentation. The members of the Temporary Council, L. Euler and D. Bernoulli, friends from their time in St. Petersburg in 1727, entered the room where the young mathematician waited and communicated the verdict: The draft for A. Marti project was approved.
At that moment Galois knew that the New course of time was already probable, and therefore the Reality in which he was, it was beginning to fade. It was still a probability back then, but the order of events was beginning to take shape. He sat down and started writing in his holographic keyboard.