I was thinking to write about Spain, at the beginning. But then, thinking a little, I realized that it´s available for this whole part of the world called Europe.
And Europe it sounds like a woman´s name.
She, Europe, a young, innocent one, with all her richness, with all her priceless concepts, ideals, spreads all over the geographical maps. So, one by one, different marriage options appeared. Ones better, ones for worse. The sad thing was that all along the road, the father, the relatives, the friends, tried to influence her or to change her decision, one way or another.
From “innocent” expressions like “don´t exaggerate” about what you think, you feel, about what you think you saw, till “we love you, you are our best friend”, since we want you to do this or that for us. And after, we love you no more, we like you no more, since you don´t want to do, think, act like we expect you to, for our own interest and benefit.
Among so devoted, amazing friends, no wonder she was ending in strange, rare relations, that obliged her to accept a louder word, then some shouts, after that a bunch of punches till getting in the hospital (the two World Wars).
And all these, because of a two fiancés a little bit rare, Hitler and Stalin.
Nowadays, after getting free of those two, others appeared.
At the first sight, they were looking fine. Nothing was special, nothing rare. At the first sight, remember?
Slowly, the old, old habits blossomed, with synonym words, but with homonym facts.
And so, slowly the time passed by and the young, innocent girl riches it’s forty’s.
Lots of wrinkles, lot of white hair, many more pains into its body and soul. Her breasts had dried by so many children – its own and many of everybody – that she nourtured, but still having the same gourgeous shape of body.
Unfortunately, the new pretenders with old, dustier habits wanted to submit Europe to a reshape plastic surgery, to some liposuctions, hopping she will forget the times when she cried. Those times when she was separated of what she loved, of the graves she couldn’t go to put some flowers and some candles to those who fought so she can be free to live the way she choose, after the Second World War.
The only problem is that the time hasn’t gone by in vain.
Europe, as old and sterile that she may had became; as obsolete and tired or arthritic she may move, this Europe that became “home” for so many people, I hope this time will know to choose its “fiancé”. It doesn’t matter what kind of clothes the fiancé will wear, but if he will stand by her side and protect her.
It won’t matter how many silky ways he will promise, but if on that way she will continue to offer, to open gates only for discover later that it was another road leading to its disintegration.
PD: Since November of 2017, when writing this, some things happened and now we do know Europe made the same bad choice like before, unfortunately – a whole continent suffering of Stockholm syndrome is unbelievable.