The sun, the trees, the moon, the sea

       It was supposed to be easy. Are you cold? But sometimes I make it a bit difficult. I'm sorry. Luckily you laugh and you don't get angry, because you are smarter and less selfish than me. Are you still cold? Well, close your eyes for a minute.

  "Imagine a small creek, we'll have a drink. It's summer and the sun shines, it is the Catalan coast. We are calm, like anesthetized. We fall asleep watching the Tour de France, the typical stage in which Lance won the sprint with a second lead in the last breath hanging to his shoulders the yellow jersey. 

  Back to the snack bar, a swim, a chocolate ice cream and a game of table football. We play cards and we finish having a salad for dinner. We drink. We speak in silence. The moon, salt, your wet lips. I am thirsty and I order a drink and Spain was forthin the Championship.

 But we don't care, we will win the World Cup.  

 



   
  We go home. Time stops, the air doesn't run. You sleep by my side. Tired, happy, you ask me for a story and I'll tell you, or I'll made ​​it up.

 I explain that a child crossed the universe on a donkey with silver wings looking for a star named Renata who danced salsa with an asteroid named Julian Rodriguez de Malta. Evil, arrogant, traitor and outlaw. Known villain in the Milky Way. And you sleep.." 

 

  As always, we hug in this bed that is now full of blankets in this cold morning, cold, cold, frozen, frozen.

Eighteen.

Thursday, September 2 1993. 

Friday night and the lights are low, looking out for the place to go where they play the right music, getting in the swing. You come in to look for a king, anybody could be that guy. Night is young and the music high. With a bit of rock music everything is fine, you're in the mood for a dance and when you get the chance.. you are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen.

Forever seventeen.. 

Russian Red.

 Tell me what it is, it isn’t fair, but I’m wasting time 'cos it isn’t my heart, it isn’t my fault and every situation understands, well, the anecdote of chasing the locations to your doors ’cos I’m wasting time, I’m wasting money again. And all the cigarettes that I have never smoked, and all the letters that I have never sent. He was sitting by the swimming pool but he was scared, ’cos it wasn’t his time and it wasn’t his chance. Getting older’s not been on my plans but it’s never late, it’s never late enough for me to stay ’cos I’m wasting time, I’m wasting money again. And all the cigarettes that I have never smoke, and all the letters that I have never sent.

 

Growing up is learning to say goodbye.

 

Everything started very far away from home, I loved walking on your arm through the city streets and having coffee in any terrace. Only coffee, and in a terrace. It's all about addictions, you know: my three or four, or five daily coffees and anti-tobacco law. And just now that I was beginning to be addicted to you, your shirts, your surfboard, your iPhone.. everything ends up, but everything remains intact in a thousand pieces but fails to break. 

2010

2011

   And as you said,  I am a capricious. You, you, I need, I want.. but it is always tough, we forgot to keep adding.