When did we stop looking at each other?

(by Teresa Viegas, Self-Esteem Clinic)

There are silences that settle in slowly. They are not made of absence, but of noise. They are the silences of exhaustion, of rushing, of endless logistics, of time that is left only for others and never for "us".

Sometimes, in a long relationship, we stop looking. Not because we've stopped loving, but because we've stopped seeing. We start seeing the other person only through what they give us (or don't give us), what we expect, what costs us. And we forget to notice the margins. The small gestures. The weariness that the other person also carries.

Desire, contrary to what is often thought, doesn't disappear in an instant. It hides itself. It slowly sickens. It settles in a corner of the house and learns to live without asking for space. But it remains there, whispering between the lines in a hurried touch, in an avoided glance, in a divided sleep.

The body knows. Even when the mind can no longer find the words.

Perhaps this new year doesn't need grand promises. Perhaps it only needs one question:

What is it that still lives among us, even if forgotten?

And if we can start there… with a gesture. With a choice to look again.

A symbolic gesture for today:

Before you fall asleep, sit next to the person you share your life with. Even if it's just for two minutes. In silence. Without distractions. Without the obligation to talk. Just look. And breathe there.

If they are far away, send a short message: " I thought of you fondly today ." That's all.

The gesture doesn't solve everything. But it's a place you can return to. @teresaviegas_psi @clinicadaautoestima