The Caribbean

Three days before the accident had talked and the theme of the 20 minutes of long distance was invariably Cecilia she, the newly married, the new Northern who had moved to Sonora with his plane and flamboyant husband. When he awoke the first thing asked was to see it and to me that broke my soul, and apparently, home, she also, as he took the first flight to Bologna and spent more than three weeks, was going to the hospital and consoled the sick at night, went out with the friends of the newly awake and lived vita la loca. Mad were also my desire to tear the eyes, him into deep depression by his unfortunate current state and that taking advantage of every penny that cost him the flight. He returned, not be when, I don’t remember how, but apparently when he left the familiar hospital, engendered so much resentment towards the Mexican who decided to delete it based on more-Italian curses, or at least, was what he proposed. I returned to call long distance, was returning to answer me mother, now already in the Department, and returned to inform me, we had only 3 or 4 talks, her voice was slow, it seems to me that not he realized this, little by little, I got used to not interrupt, meet their pauses that actually were not, I got used to hisincreasingly bad, Spanish and at some point I began to doubt that he understood so clearly as before, but when an afternoon mia, one night, I said you gotta venire qui I understood once again that the language was not obstacle between him and me. These days, in a few weeks, will make that afternoon six years ago that we said goodbye to in the Caribbean of the evening kicking Cap threads in the street the way to my house, the last joke of which we laugh out loud together. I cried him both as I have laughed with him, and thanks to him, we spent no more than 7 weeks accumulated together, much more has been the time that we must not had contact, much more have been the twists that have given our different lives, none of this is capable of changing the love I have for him in my heart, the forces that build up my arms to hug him next time you see itdesire that I have to remember those spontaneous jokes. By something the truth, still my reason doesn’t know why, my heart sincerely don’t need no explanation. Original author and source of the article