I came home, my cat was restless and rubbing on my legs, he knew I
was deeply broken and sad. I stroked her fur as tears welled up in
my eyes. I had lost her again and I didn't have the courage to turn to
her and tell her everything I felt, I preferred to keep quiet and
swallow my words and my love for you. I smoked and drank until I
became unconscious. Again I returned to that hole of sadness and
despair from which for a moment I had come out. I was resigned to
losing you. No, I could not accept it. I grabbed my keys and went to
look for you, I knocked on your door and you welcomed me with
tears in your eyes. I told you everything that was going through my
mind at that moment, and you looked at me with that tender and
innocent look you always had and told me that you could not
change anything, the decision was made and you would move to a
new country to look for the happiness that I had taken from you
when we broke up months ago. I cried in front of you, I felt
vulnerable, and you hugged me and told me that everything was
going to be ok and that I had to let you go. I hugged you and said
goodbye again. As I came back again the memories surfaced in my
mind and tears kept coming out of my eyes.
I felt like I was shutting down and dying in life as I had to endure
an eternity without you. I walked home and when I got home I lay
down on my bed and comforted myself with alcohol and cigarettes
until I fell asleep.
I woke up dazed and tormented, it was a gray Sunday and the city
felt your farewell, as did my heart. The other half of my soul had
finally left me, and my other half turned to ashes like a cigarette
when it burns out. I could not eat. A lump in my stomach and throat
prevented me from ingesting any food. I could only cry and inhale
the salty liquor that came out of my eyes.
Weeks went by and I tried to continue with my routine. To
establish my life, to find a modicum of happiness, but I could not.
Your loss meant the awakening of loneliness inside me and not
even the warmest company of Joaquina could fill that emptiness. I
was broken. I began to lose my memory. I gained weight and my
face was damaged by the tobacco and alcohol I ingested daily to try
not to remember you and that those voices inside me were silenced
for a moment. I stopped going out of my apartment, I isolated
myself, and I just I am a coward to take my own life. No, I deserved a slow and
painful death in payment for what I had caused you. Joaquina
would ask me if I was well and if something was happening to me
to which I would always reply with a false smile on my face that
everything was fine, that it was just a bad time. She worried about
me, but I knew that deep down my situation was incurable. The
pain would never end. Your final words echoed in my head like
hammer blows and I couldn't stop them, I let them hit me again and
again until the alcohol took effect and I was left unconscious on the
floor, bleeding to death inside in a fatal hemorrhage of thoughts
and sadness.
Days went by, I tried to communicate with you, but you had
disappeared from my radar. You changed your phone number, you
deleted your social networks, and I couldn't even see a picture of
you to comfort me in my sad nights of agony and fatalism.
But I'm tired, tired of living this way and I intend to get over you
once and for all. I started studying for a doctorate in history, to get a
better job so I could get more stability and keep my head busy with
you. Weeks went by and I had given up drinking, but not the
cigarettes. I could not even visualize a whole life without touching
tobacco. The doctorate lasted 2 years and I was doing quite well,
passing the practicals that came my way and making new friends. I
tried to love Joaquina, to be in a relationship with her, but I could
not. My students could tell that something was wrong with me and
Pablo would always ask me "how are you teacher? One ordinary
school day and in the last 20 minutes we chatted a bit about life,
they found my life interesting and asked me again if I had ever
fallen in love. I kindly and defeated by the insistence I decided to
tell them about Lucia, I told them that I had met her in this very
school. I told them how I felt the first time I saw her, how my heart
stopped and my mind was paralyzed when I heard her voice and
saw her for the first time. I told them about the 8 years we had been
together, how those years of relationship had seemed so short to
me. uninterrupted. And finally I told them what love is, I told them that
when you love a person you are given a power over them and that,
if it is really love what you feel, you both must give up that power
and accept each other as you are. That was my definition of love, I
accepted Lucia for who she was, I never tried to change her and I let
her be with her thoughts. I gave up the power I had over her to not
try to hurt her or make her feel bad. I loved her every trait and
personality and she did the same with me. Every day I spent with
her until the last was short and each one of them threw happiness
out of my pockets and made me a better person. She completed me
and I completed her. They were taken aback by such a poetic
description and looked in amazement at the genuine smile I evoked
on my face when I mentioned her. I concluded by telling them
about our separation and they understood the reason for my
current somber personality and my lack of happiness and hope for
life that showed on my face every morning at school. They asked
me about Joaquina, and I could only tell them that you love fully
once in your life, you feel that for the first time and the following
times you don't realize it because the intensity is not the same and
the feelings are not like the first time. One never has to repress that
feeling because that is the reason that makes us live, feelings,
romance and love, however, we can choose to repress them and
create a so-called strong personality, but with time it will transform
into a remarkable inner loneliness. I chose to love Lucia, and I
would do it again knowing that the end would be the same, as long
as I could relive what made me feel awake when I was sleeping,
what made me be alive and not just existing. I concluded the class
and retired to my apartment. I smoked and smoked, ate little, was
thinner, bordering on an eating problem. I felt weaker and weaker
and I couldn't stop coughing.
Weeks and weeks went by, the days fell like drops on the asphalt
and evaporated at nightfall. I understood that I was just existing.
Waiting for a miracle to happen that would change the situation I
was in, for I myself was unable to change it. There was no news from you. You had completely disappeared from
this little world. My cough started to get worse. I decided to go to
the doctor and was given the news that I had finally developed lung
cancer and that the stage was too advanced to be cured. I asked him
if I had time left and he told me that it was only a matter of weeks
before the final judgment. I quit my job and told my friends about
the situation. I had no family members as most of them had passed
away. They were sad, but on the other hand I felt that relief that
soon the pain would be over. I continued smoking and smoking, I
isolated myself from my loved ones because I did not want them to
see me weakened, thin and spitting blood from time to time.
Weeks went by and I knew that the final day was approaching. In
my bed I decided to write a last letter addressed to you Lucia,
which read as follows:
"Lucia:
How are you doing Lu, it's me again, sorry for bothering you
wherever you are. I just felt the imperious need to tell you that the agony of
missing you finally consumed my life and that is the reason for my letter.
Do you remember that day we went to the bookstore and you gave me a
book? Well... I wanted to tell you that I could read that letter when we
finished, I never realized that you had written it and I felt terrible for not
realizing it, you know more than anyone how absent-minded and stupid I
am. I just want to know how you are, how is your new life and if you miss
me as much as I miss you every day and every second of my life. I want
you to know that I love you, and that I have always loved you, never
stopped loving you for an instant of my short life. I want to tell you that I
am doing that doctorate I told you so much about and that I am doing very
well, soon I am going to be a doctor in history, can you believe it?
That was the only reason for the letter. No need to answer, just to let you
know how much I love you and miss you. Love, Seba."
I did not want to notify her of my illness because I did not think it
was necessary, and because she did not deserve to feel sad for me.
With my last strength I delivered the letter to the post office and I
put her information so that they can look for her and send her the
letter, I trust only once in my life that the public service will be her
duty. For now I lie down on my bed and decide to set the alarm and
not to wake up tomorrow so that this miserable life will finally come
to its conclusion.