Rachel a month ago called me and told me that two weeks was going to marry. Bucket of cold water "?. No. Balde, yes. Cold water, no. I expected it, at some point I expected. I knew that would happen because that was what she wanted for her life. But love is remembered singles.
If you love pure, crystalline EL began and became contaminated with a little violence, conformity and boredom, love of Rachel from the beginning was tainted. It was a love doomed from the base. A love that surprised us to continue flowing. "It flowed? Or was it a love stalled as well water?
a month ago called me and told me in two weeks I case. He explained that was because I wanted to see in the civilian. I know you're not quite agree with this marriage but for me it is important that you go . And although he had already passed, I had something inside (have had surpassed? A love that surpasses was love?). So soon as I said I took a few days to think. These days to think about as novel, going for a coffee one and have looked into the void, to go to the plaza to watch the kids run.
And I wore a dress and went to the civil. And when he came threw rice and hugged and smiled and looked more like a sister to a former (ex "why? Ex love? Former partner? Former test-to-see-if-I-like-the "Mine?). And though I wanted to mourn, I simply smile and accommodate the hair and tell her how beautiful she was, feeling the eyes of her boyfriend, now husband in the neck. If the boy muscle and penis, especially silver.
After I walked without stepping on the seams of the tiles, the floor watching something animated. I thought that at least he would be happy. Yes, he knew very well what I thought, I thought what a pity, that she was for more, but was not going to judge, which will hopefully be happy. I thought that and felt something else. I never knew what that feeling in the chest that causes some say they mourn. I always felt in the jaw, the teeth. That thing that refuses to be swallowed, so it gets stuck between the teeth. Those words that do not know what to make sound, hovering the world but can not leave, because feelings do not respond to the logic of language, because it is so difficult to find simple words to something as complex as knowing that this love will never be yours (is it or is a lot of things but exceeds the terms of ownership, time?).
In movies it's all glamorous. There is a violin back, there is a suitable mounting for the occasion, there are so many things. I just had my steps with a small obsession of not pushing the union of the tiles ( contaminated love, I said). Was obliged to feel bien porque ella se iba, pero yo quedaba. Tenía cinco quilos menos a base de resignación y gelatina. Pero sobretodo tenía la seguridad de que no volvería a besarla. Y aunque se sentía mal, era algo bueno. Era el fin de ella y el principio de otras cosas. ¿Cosas buenas? Seguro. Se iba ella, pero yo me quedaba.
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