… and the plan was to avoid my mistakes. I envy all those who make mistakes—but not like I do. I envy those who err with simplicity, with objectivity. I envy those who make a mistake and that’s it—who stumble but don’t complicate things, who falter but aren’t doomed to perpetual misery. I envy those who are pragmatic, who move through life with ease, who make mistakes, achieve victories, and remain happy; who can restart without hesitation.

That’s what I wanted—to be pragmatic, so I wouldn’t suffer from my absurd speculations, wouldn’t constantly question my certainties or threaten my own sanity. I wanted to be practical, without inventing fragile theories to justify possibilities. By creating them, I torment myself, sabotage myself, poison myself, destroy myself—all in a fraction of a second. And that’s enough.

I wanted the practicality of those who are not storms and don’t even realize it. People free of endless attachments, daily anguish, and overwhelming distress—who don’t turn small worries into monsters that devour them. I wanted the simplicity of the man who saved himself from disaster simply by choosing another path.

I wanted the wisdom of those who let go of emotional traps at the right time, who say farewell to barren loves that consume more than they sweeten. I wanted to be pragmatic so I wouldn’t multiply questions or obsess over answers.

I wanted not to drown in sorrow or collect resentment like a designer label I wear every day. I wanted the ease of someone who stretches their heart out in the sun, laughs effortlessly, and forgives as if it doesn’t hurt.

I wanted to be practical—to let things go, not point fingers, not brood, not spiral, not carry to bed what won’t let me sleep. I wanted to be pragmatic—to bid farewell to mistakes and move forward, without crises, trauma, funerals, labyrinths, punishments.
I wanted to be uncomplicated—to kill fear without giving life to two more. I wanted to be practical—to stop overthinking, stop over-talking, stop oscillating, stop losing my spark.

I wanted to be pragmatic so I wouldn’t drag the past with me, constantly calculating and predicting pessimistic outcomes. I wanted to be practical—to have no time for injustice, to avoid living endless mental battles where I always come out wounded.

I wanted to be pragmatic, like those who accept consequences and, with silent courage, discard guilt—who don’t announce or mourn before they’re gone.

I want to say goodbye for good, not die a little at a time…❤️

©️ Beatriz Esmer