A new reason to smile

How often do we look in the mirror and remember the dreamy child we once were? And how much courage do we have to look deep into our own eyes and forgive ourselves for the wrong choices that have hurt us so much, or for everything we have allowed to be done to us for so many years?

Nothing last forever... neither the joys, nor the sorrows, anguish and pain.

The reflection before my eyes makes tears well up and slide down my face, while I feel my chest tighten as if I could suffocate at any moment.

A woman who is no more than a shadow of the dreamy, impeccable girl she once was, who feels capable of flying higher and higher, but who at the same time feels trapped, tied to her husband, because she is too attached to principles that no longer make any sense after everything she has been through.

Deep in my soul, I hear that little girl screaming, "What did you do to me? Why?"

Realizing that everything I believed to be true was nothing but a meticulous trap I allowed myself to fall into, hurts... sucking all my strength every day I spend in this situation, unable to take any action and move on.

I have discovered that my wonderful "Disney princess" castle is nothing more than a gilded cage, and that I am nothing more than a trophy that the "prince" boasts of being the only one to possess.

He fills his mouth to talk about me to others, praising and extolling my qualities to anyone who will listen to the wonders he makes a point of telling, extolling the "woman of his life," to whom, within the privacy of the walls of our home, he does not direct affection and recognition. I have given into his hands every dream, every day of my life for years, but I have never had any of those dreams cherished. I am no more than the wife whom he judges, ridicules and belittles.

It is hard to look back and forgive myself for so much pain, for having allowed someone to tear and fragment my soul into so many pieces, and to forgive myself after remaining for so long steeped in a deep illusion that he would one day be the man I dreamed of so much.

"He will change! Of course he will! After all, he loves me! He promised!"

How many times have I repeated each of these phrases to myself, trying to justify the masochism of submitting myself to an endless wait for something that never happened and never will happen.

But when I close my eyes, I hear the voice of every person who tried to warn me about all this, echoing inside me, throbbing, cutting, bleeding wounds that never heal...

I turn on the shower, once again my confidant, and before the hot steam dulls the mirror, I see my reflection. The swollen eyes from crying so much, the black mascara stains that I tried unsuccessfully to clean. But what hurts me the most, to see my eyes erased, the lack of brightness, of dreams, of the color of life... marks of what he swears is love, and of what he always promises will be different, that it will be worth trying again.

***

Murilo has always been the kind of guy who doesn't go unnoticed, always gentle, smiling, helpful to each of his friends. It was not only his beauty that drew attention, but his attitudes, his voice, his caring little gestures.

I came from a series of very short, superficial and frustrated relationships, expecting more from people than they really had to offer because they were shallow, while what I most wanted was to dive deep into a relationship that would make me feel complete.

My family was well structured, where love was never lacking and respect was always the basis of everything. Of course it was not a perfect family, but even with its flaws, the warmth and protection were always part of my life, and this made me unable to even imagine that there could be relationships so different from the ones I knew until then.

My world was rocked to the sound of old songs, totally different from my classmates, while I waited anxiously for someone who would understand me and fill the void that bothered me so much. I always felt out of place, too different to fit in with the most popular groups in school, not interesting enough, not pretty enough to walk the halls with the most harassed and disputed "patricians" of the time. I was a typical teenager who isolated herself from the world because she didn't feel she was part of it. And that's how Murilo came into my life, bringing with him the weight of an already suffering existence, the scars and marks of a totally destroyed home, not knowing about complicity and security, but acting as if everything he had been through was normal, since he was always compensated for it, getting presents and getting what he wanted by playing his little games and blackmailing.

Being with Murilo was easy, simple. Everything happened so naturally, and what started as an inseparable friendship soon became a relationship. We fell in love with each other and the harmony was perfect. He was everything I had hoped for, everything I had never found in anyone.

Despite the differences, we respected and understood each other well, and the trust I had in him was wonderful, it brought peace.

We both knew everything about each other, and since we had no serious relationships before, there were no scars or wounds that could affect our relationship. We had before us the future, which we planned together with dedication and care.

The first of our plans was marriage, and what was to be our honeymoon trip, became the next step: moving to Canada, and there starting to build our family, and our future together now.

We started dating during our senior year of high school, and how we enjoyed every moment of it! The planning of the prom, every detail of the trip we would take later during the summer, the anticipation of saving money together... Everything was incredible with him.

Murilo was my safe harbor, my home, my place in the world, with him I felt I could be whoever I wanted to be, soar to the highest heights, and dream beyond what reason told me was possible. My life finally had color, had joy.

We had an insane year of pre-college preparation, Murilo decided to start doing some odd jobs to earn extra money for our trip, we spent the little time we had off together, dating and dreaming about the future we had ahead of us.

Time seemed to drag on, until finally the prom was approaching, the girls were talking about nothing else but their dresses, hairstyles and make-up, and at that moment I could feel like them! I wanted to look beautiful, I wanted to impress my boyfriend, but I also wanted to surprise him!

"Maísa! This red is gorgeous on you!"

"Oh, my friend! I agree with Bê, it highlighted your skin tone!"

At that moment, trying on that dress, I felt like a celebrity ready for the "red carpet", I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, until I saw my boyfriend's disapproving look, who showed up at the studio by surprise.

Murilo looked at me as he never had before, the disgust in his expression, the sarcastic smile before he turned his back and left. I felt my face burn, tears welling up as I swallowed hard, trying to disguise the disappointment that his attitude had caused me.

"I guess I'm not in a good mood for this, girls? - I said, as I took off my dress and felt a growing despair take over me."

"But... you were so excited, Maísa. What's wrong?"

"It's just a headache."

I almost ran out of the studio, I didn't want anyone to see me crying, and there he was in the parking lot: Murilo.

"What's wrong, my love? Couldn't you find a dress?"

His expression was pure debauchery as he came towards me to hug me. I wanted to run away, to forget about this damned dress fitting, but I wasn't able to say a word about the way it happened or how I felt, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay and be safe in his embrace.

"I didn't like any of them. That's just it..."

"I didn't see the other dresses, honey, but that red one was just too vulgar. You didn't mean to go to our prom looking like an ordinary girl, did you?"

After this day, my classmates kept insisting on the red dress, my mother tried unsuccessfully to make me give up wearing a black dress that I had chosen to avoid my boyfriend's questioning.

"I liked this one and that was it! It's simple, it doesn't show anything too much."

"And it doesn't suit you either, creature! Mrs. Amelia, talk to her!"

"Maísa! For God's sake, my child! It's your graduation, not a funeral!"

"I've already chosen the dress. The matter is settled."

The truth was that Murilo's words, and that look of disapproval and repulsion echoed in my mind without stopping. I tried desperately to understand the reason for his behavior that day, maybe it was stress from something at work, or another argument with his parents. I clung to the justifications I had created to ease the situation between us. Everything was perfectly fine between us, and that was all that mattered.

On prom night, all the girls were in dazzling, bright, colorful dresses. I felt totally plastered, watched, evaluated at every moment. I couldn't relax even for a second.

Murilo started drinking with the other guys in the class and completely ignored me during the whole night, and while all the girls were dancing and having fun on the dance floor, I was there, sitting and watching. Spectator of a party that was also mine, or at least should be.

There I felt again like the weird and out of place Maísa from before, the one who didn't fit in and felt too different from all the other girls. Once again I was not happy.

A few days later we were traveling together to a country inn in a nearby town. Our days were simple, light, the stress of the past year was behind us, and we were finally able to get along again.

We walked to the edge of a beautiful lake, the perfect setting for a picnic. Laughter was once again easy and I felt protected, happy, at peace.

We chose a shade under a tree, Murilo put the basket on the ground and took the red and white checkered towel to spread out on the grass. It was impossible not to smile and not to feel your heart warming up, after all, what girl doesn't love a beautiful cliché?

"Maísa, shall we go for a walk?"

He stood up and held out his hand to me, and I accepted it cheerfully. At that moment I felt spoiled, cared for, loved.

The sun was beginning to set, reflecting its golden rays on the surface of the lake, framed by the vivid green of the trees.

I stopped walking for a moment to immortalize that moment in my mind. The calm and beauty of the image before my eyes made me feel as if time had stopped?

In an almost whispered tone of voice, Murilo says my name and holds my hand, causing a shiver to run across my skin while a smile appears on my lips. Nothing could be more perfect.

"Maísa..."

My gaze meets his in an overwhelming connection. He was everything I could ever wish for.

"I know that we are still very young, and that we have our whole lives ahead of us, but I can't wait any longer..."

My heart raced out of control, beating hard. Without averting our gazes, Murilo knelt before me, tears wetting my eyes. He opened the little red box, with two golden rings, and proposed.

"Maísa, will you marry me?"

I was flooded with a mixture of sensations, I let the tears run down my face and held out my right hand to him.

"Yes, I do!"

Murilo gently placed the ring on my finger and kissed it. He slowly stood up, dried my tears, gently pushed my bangs aside, and kissed me.

We came back from our walk walking together, with wide smiles on our faces, and I couldn't stop looking at the ring on my finger. It was simple, but to me it meant a lot.

It was almost dark by the time we got to our room, and we were almost late for dinner. While we were getting ready, laughing and making plans for the future, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mom! Our day was amazing! I have some news! Mom...? Mom, what happened?"

I lost my ground. The sobs exploded out of control, while I held the phone tightly against my chest.

Even without understanding anything, Murilo hugged me, took the phone from my hand and resumed the call with my mother, listening silently to what had happened.

"I will take care of her, Dona Amélia. I promise we won't go out on the road now. We'll be back in the morning."

I could only cry, and there he was, my safe harbor, the love of my life, the one who took me out of a lonely life, hugging me tightly, doing everything he could to calm me down.

"I want to leave, Murilo. I need to be there when my father wakes up."

"Baby, rest. Your father wouldn't want us to risk the night on the road. Try to get some sleep, I'll order dinner in the bedroom, and a hot chocolate."

"I won't be able to rest, much less sleep."

"So we'll stay up together, watch a movie or go for a walk around the hotel, but I promised your mother that I'll take care of you and that we won't travel at night, and I'll keep my word, dear.

The days that passed after we returned from our trip were painful. Seeing my father lying in a hospital bed after a car accident, incapable of any reaction or movement, destroyed me in a way I could never have imagined possible.

But as bad as the situation was, Murilo was by my side, and this was comforting. He made every effort to help us in every way.

The months went by, my father didn't get better, Murilo helping my mother to put him in the sun, take him to the bath, and then back to his room? he was working hard to take care of his studies, work, and help my mother with these activities, while I was also studying, taking care of the house, and working to help with the expenses.

Things were not easy and more and more I saw our tempers flaring. Our dreams and plans were postponed indefinitely, we no longer talked about marriage, but the fact was that Murilo was practically living with us, and we didn't know how we would manage without him.

With each day that passed, our routine continued insane, and the difficulties grew. Before my eyes I saw my father wasting away... and my mother along with him, as strong as she tried to show herself, knowing that my father could leave us at any moment destroyed her inside.

I could hear her footsteps in the early morning hours, when she got up to see if my father was breathing in the next bed, hear her whispered cries in the bath. I saw how difficult it was for her to feed herself, she ate very little, almost nothing, and lost weight. The love between them was everything to her.

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon, the kind where the sun doesn't even shine. I needed strength to continue, to feel that everything was worthwhile. My mother had left with Murilo, after much insistence from us. She needed some time away from home, and I needed to be alone for a while with my father.

Seeing him in that bed and not even being able to hear his voice hurt more every day. But holding his warm hand, looking into his eyes, and cuddling up next to him made me feel safe, like a child running away to his parents' bed on a cold stormy night.

I opened the bedroom door slowly, his eyes were fixed on the window, on the flashes of lightning that illuminated the room. I took a blanket and approached him.

I sat down next to him and held his hand between mine. He turned his eyes to me, and tears began to stream down his face, making it impossible to hold back my own tears and not expose all my fragility.

His gaze told me without words all that I needed to hear, but that now we could only feel. And then, I cuddled up next to him like a child, caressed his unshaven beard, kissed his now thin and tired face, and there we fell asleep holding hands.

I woke up some time later, and was not surprised to see that my father's eyes were once again fixed on the window. I sat up again and held his hands between mine. He looked tired, the sadness in his eyes was deep, and once again his face was wet with tears.

"Father..."

His eyes met my face, and he blinked as fast as he could, clearly trying to get rid of the tears that were blurring his vision.

"Dad, you need to rest..."

He blinked long and slowly, as if he agreed with me.

"Father..."

Again he blinked long and slowly, took the deepest breath and closed his eyes... his hands were heavy between mine... And in that moment I understood that we were saying goodbye. I would never see his eyes again.

"Father... Dad... Wake up, Dad! Father!"

The tears were pouring out, and made it even harder to find my cell phone and call 911, as much as I knew how much my father needed to rest, I simply found myself unable to accept it.

"Dad, hold on just a little longer."

I called for help and while waiting, I nestled back down next to him and could only cry. I cried for all the memories, I cried for all the things we didn't and wouldn't live.

With each resuscitation attempt that was made, hope filled my heart, but was quickly ripped from me without any mercy. The rescuers tried everything, and when the head of the team looked me straight in the eye and shook his head from side to side, I felt the ground open up beneath my feet and the world suddenly darkened.