It’s my fault

It’s my fault. It’s my fault because I fight, because I talk, because I move. It’s my fault because I don’t settle, I don’t stay, I go. It’s my fault because I never managed to stay still for a long time even when the others might need it. It’s my fault because I studied without caring about anything else, because I think what I want. It’s my fault because I often do not care, because I try not to adapt. It is my fault when I do not understand the need of others to be calm, when I become restless, when I stop answering, when I am silent. It’s my fault when I prevent others from hurting me.
Instead I thought it was my fault when I make or made others feel bad, when I did not understand their beautiful things. I thought it was my fault when I didn’t give someone the space to move on, when I wanted to stop them because of a stupid need for closeness. I thought it was my fault when the eyes weren’t smart enough to stay open and see what was wrong. I still think so.
In the past I often thought that it was my fault that I only existed. That just breathing was terrible let alone trying to be myself, let alone trying to say “no”.

Now, these days in particular, I think that guilt is a stupid thing, that judgments on oneself and others count for nothing and only break the balls.
Now, after so many years and so many mistakes I am surprised when someone blames me for not having stopped, for not being good, for not understanding the need to be calm, even if I understand how it feels.
Maybe it’s my fault, but this time even if it is difficult I like this guilt.

Gioia Piazzi