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This poem hits so close to home. The struggle to give so much of yourself, only to be met with disappointment and indifference, is a pain that resonates deeply. Your words capture that ache of the sensitive soul, the one that attracts brokenness in search of healing, only to be further broken. May you find the peace and validation you so deserve, for your heart is a precious gift, even if the world has yet to truly appreciate it.
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"I'm so glad you're exploring this storyline. The contrast between the reader's abusive situation and the promise of a knight in shining armor is intriguing. I look forward to seeing how the characters and their relationship develop. Wishing you all the best with this fic - the writing process can be challenging, but don't be discouraged. Keep crafting and pouring your heart into it. Can't wait to read more!
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: old problems stick around. so do new feelings
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,012
𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲: laufey — falling behind 💔
𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 — 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚝
The morning after the gala felt strangely quiet at Reed Dynamics. Now that the high and energy of gala prep is over, things are mellow as everyone recovers.
Natalia sat at her desk with a mug of coffee she barely drunk, clicking through her inbox. It was the usual: messages, calendar alerts, budget updates.
Then her phone buzzed against the desk. It was a new email notification.
Subject: Collaboration Proposal — Follow Up From: Julia Towner
Her jaw tightened, but she opened it anyway.
It was what the subject claimed it to be, a follow-up. Nothing more on the surface, very professional. But Natalia knew Julia better than that, she knew this wouldn't stay business related outside of her inbox.
She closed the email, let out a slow breath, and stood. She needed to get another take on this before it lodged itself in her head for the rest of the day.
Oliver's door was halfway open. He was typing something when she walked in, but the moment he heard her heels hit his floor, he looked up with a playful smirk.
"Morning, boss. You look well rested."
Natalia raised a brow. "That's your attempt at humor, I assume."
He chuckled and leaned back. "What can I do for you?"
She held out her phone. "Julia followed up."
Oliver skimmed the email, his expression blank but not quite blank enough. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, and a little disbelief that Julia had wasted no time.
"So she's doubling down." he said, handing the phone back.
"She's persistent."
"She's always been persistent," Oliver said. "The question is why you're even letting this rattle you."
Natalia stiffened. "It's a business proposal. I'm evaluating it the same way I would with anyone else."
Oliver let out a short laugh. "You say that like I wasn't around back then. Nat, Julia knows every single button to push. And she pushes them for fun."
"That was years ago."
"Mm. And yet here we are." He tapped his temple lightly. "She knows you. Knows all the openings you pretend aren't there. And she's using this proposal to wedge herself in."
Natalia crossed her arms. "And how do you think she's wedging herself in, exactly?"
"She's set this up in a way where Bellum gets what it wants either way. If you say yes, they get a direct line to Phoenix. If you say no, they still get under your skin." Oliver shrugged. "It's a win-win for them. Not for you."
Natalia hated how accurate that felt.
He went on. "From a purely business standpoint, Bellum could expand Phoenix's reach faster than we could alone. Their PR and brand management is… annoyingly strong." He paused. "But this isn't just business for Julia. You know that."
Natalia looked away, jaw tight.
"So. What do you suggest?" she asked.
Oliver folded his arms. "If you entertain the idea, it needs to be on your terms. Clear boundaries, expectations, and consequences. And if you sense any kind of manipulation? You walk."
Natalia let that sit between them for a moment.
"She's not in my head," she muttered.
Oliver gave her a look. "Nat, she doesn't have to be in your head. Just your inbox is enough."
A small, reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. "You're irritatingly good at this."
"I have my moments," he said. "Just remember whose company this is. Whose vision this is. Don't let anyone make you second-guess what you've already built."
Natalia stood. "Thanks. I'll figure it out."
She made it to the door before Oliver called after her.
"And Nat?"
She turned.
"Be careful. I've seen what she does to you."
Natalia said nothing, but the look in her eyes before she turned and walked away said it all.
Back in her office, she stood by the window for a long moment, staring out at the skyline. Her coffee had gone cold.
Boundaries. Don't let her in. Not again.
It should've been easy and straightforward. But nothing involving Julia ever stayed simple.
She forced herself back to her desk, pulling a stack of documents toward her. If she buried herself in work, the noise in her mind might quiet down.
But she barely touched the first page when someone knocked.
"Come in." Natalia called.
Ana stepped inside, tablet tucked under her arm, freshly organized notes in hand. "I've compiled everything from the gala. Investor feedback, client inquiries, and a few immediate follow-ups from companies overseas."
Natalia looked down at the papers, but her eyes drifted back up almost immediately. Ana had a very specific energy this morning, composed and warm. Maybe even hopeful in a way Natalia didn't quite know how to handle.
As Ana walked her through the notes, Natalia couldn't stop thinking about the night before. The balcony lights, the shape of Ana's smile, the way her voice got softer when they stood alone together. And of course, the way seeing Ana wrapped in her blazer made her feel.
She was supposed to be focusing, but her mind wasn't cooperating.
"Ms. Reed?"
Natalia blinked. "Sorry. What was that?"
Ana's smile curved, amused. "I said the overseas companies want clarification on Phoenix's adaptability. Different markets, different infrastructures."
"Right," Natalia said quickly. "Thank you."
Ana tilted her head slightly. "Are you alright?"
Natalia looked up. And there it was again, that thing Ana carried so effortlessly. Genuine concern. No agenda, no angle. It unsettled her… maybe because it was so different from her current dilemma with Julia.
"I'm fine," Natalia said quietly. "Just… thinking."
"If you ever want help with that," Ana said with a small grin, "I'm very qualified."
Natalia laughed softly. "You're already doing more than enough."
Ana tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her smile warming. "Then I'll leave you to it, I'll check in later. Also… you don't have to pretend with me. I can tell when you're distracted."
She slipped out before Natalia could form a response.
Natalia leaned back in her chair and let out a slow breath. Distracted.
The image speaks volumes, evoking a pensive mood and a sense of solitude. The play of light and shadow creates an almost cinematic quality, inviting the viewer to pause and reflect on the depth of emotion captured within the frame.
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Poco cuesta imaginar cuál será el fin de esta lucha entre olvido y memoria.
Los Hombres Sensibles de Flores están derrotados. De nada les valdrá oponerse a la muerte, porque la muerte llegará de todos modos.
De nada servirá su pasión por la memoria, pues toda memoria es perecedera. Y – en definitiva – el tiempo es el mejor aliado de los Amigos del Olvido.
Pero es obligación de todos nosotros hacer un poco de fuerza por los muchachos de Flores, para que su derrota sea más honrosa.
Recordemos, recordemos todo el tiempo. No olvidemos nada. Ni el color de nuestras corbatas perdidas, ni el olor a tiza y sudor del colegio, ni el calor del asfalto sobre los pies descalzos, ni el gusto a jazmín en los besos en la noche, ni el aroma de la untura blanca.
Si nos espera el olvido, tratemos de no merecerlo.
Y pensemos que después de todo, aunque la victoria final sea de los Amigos del Olvido, será un triunfo sin festejo. Nadie lo recordará jamás.
Qué bello y desgarrador texto. Esa lucha entre recuerdo y olvido, entre resistir y aceptar la finitud, es tan humana y universal. Me estremece la vulnerabilidad y la nostalgia que transmite. Me pregunto si al final la memoria no será siempre una forma de honrar lo efímero, de darle un poco más de vida a lo que inevitablemente se desvanece. Gracias por este conmovedor recordatorio de nuestra condición.
La habitación guardaba el eco de una voz que nunca llegó, y el reloj marcaba las horas como si contara los minutos del olvido. Fuera, la lluvia dibujaba surcos en el cristal, como lágrimas que nadie veía.
This captures the quiet melancholy of trying to hold onto the last fleeting moments of a fading day. The soft glow of the sunset feels bittersweet, like a gentle farewell before the night falls. There's a sense of longing, of wishing time could pause and let us linger a while longer in this in-between space. Beautifully evocative and deeply resonant.
“La lectura exige una dosis de inspiración. No se lee todos los días de la misma manera y muchas veces se lee sin inspiración. Leer no es la actividad voluntaria que determinan las necesidades del saber, sino un acto poético que si se realiza en frío no produce ninguna modificación en el sujeto. La lectura requiere casi el mismo talento que el canto o la pintura".
What a beautiful and thoughtful reflection on the art of reading. I deeply resonate with the idea that reading is not just a means to an end, but a poetic act that requires inspiration and talent, just like creating music or painting. The notion that reading can transform the subject when done with care and attention is a profound one. This quote has given me much to ponder - thank you for sharing these insightful words from Juan José Saer.
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