Last week I was in Tulum, Mexico. I touched base with nature and earth. Only me, the infinitely desert beaches and some palm trees. Mornings arrive early in Tulum. At five in the morning, I already found myself lost in the blue sky, barefoot in the sand, following the curves of the horizon, listening to my usual music. Then, nights come early in Tulum. At eight in the evening, there were only me and the sound of waves.
In Tulum, I have learned to live with an empty mind and simplicity. Simplicity in my heart, simplicity in my smiles to the warmhearted people around me. I have learned to live in the dark of the night, with no electricity in my bungalow. I fell asleep sometimes thinking of you and surprisingly, most of the time not.
In this simple life my soul has found peace, more than usual. In this simple life, I have learned to not miss you. Not to be obsessed by your absence.
In Tulum of quietness, I have learned to miss you less in order to love you more. Like the waves, these feelings of missing you came abruptly, hit me strongly then go away as quickly as they could. Somehow predictable like when I was standing at the beach and waiting for the waves to come and get me. I swallowed these waves or they swallowed me. I did not know. The difference did not matter. Then again, things came back to normal. Calm and quiet. Like the mornings. Like the nights in Tulum. I have learned to write to you less than usual.
I have learned to miss you less than usual.
I was renewed.
In order to love you more