Paulo Coelho. Zaire (№ 181130)

"I left." Why? Should I answer this question? No. Because the very issue is already hidden my inability to save the woman he loves. Whether to find her to convince to come back? To beg, to beg for another chance for our marriage? What nonsense - it is better to suffer the way I suffered before, when those I loved have abandoned me. To suffer and lick their wounds. Some of the time I'll be persistent to think about Esther, I will revel in bitterness, will irritate your friends that talk to me only about that. I will try to explain, to justify what happened, I will be the moments to remember a life spent beside her, and then come to the conclusion that she treated me cruelly, while I tried my best.
There will be other women. On the street in each woman will haunt me the traits of Esther. I'll suffer day and night, night and day. And so it will continue for weeks and months, and is probably little more than a year.
But one fine morning I will Wake up and catch yourself thinking about something else, and know the worst is over.
The wound in the heart, no matter how serious nor was she tight, I'll be back the ability to comprehend the beauty of life. It happened before, so I am sure will happen this time.