shards of death and breaking glasses

in a passage on the story "by the river Piedra i sat down and wept", paolo coehlo tells of a story of two lovers seated on one of the tables inside of a resaturant.

the girl came out of a convent. the man from a broken home. both searching for answers in a world which never seems to stop, and listen for a moment, to lost souls who would always mistake candycanes and sugarcoatings to happiness and contentment.

both knows they've found their soul in the other. but in order for the union to become possible, they must come out of their own protective boulder and surface. one feels vulnerable. the other feels giving in means losing the battle.

when josephine(the girl in the story) wanted to push the glasss at the edge of the table the first time, i felt my heart thumping on the edge, and onto the surface.if the glass plummets down with the gravity of the fall,my soul would spiral and dance with the acceleration down as well. if it shatters into pieces once it hits the floor, i would break into several particles of bleeding oblivion,just like the shards of the polished sand.

and you wouldn't want the glass breaking. you always wanted to be careful. you wanted to be safe. oh, people would always say it's perfectly alright to break glasses. just like the guy in the story said. you could always go get a new one. but not me breaking in front of you.

because you will never take the lead. you're scared to beak glasses. you love yourself too much you would never shed the tiniest bit of selfishness because you've always known that once the glass cracks, it means surrender.

i'll try not to break. not until you would. if several little deaths means another life by any chance,i'll take the ressureccion.

i would die. and live again.

wtf. i love you