Last update: Augusts 02, 2016
I don't want to forget all the times we tried to calculate together at what distance the horizon was, nor the moments when I gave everything for lost and you avoided losing what I would have left, if it wasn't for you, to the whim of gravity and the desire of the wind ...
I don't want to forget the moments we spent playing even though we met as adults and with enough manias to conquer each other every day, forever. I think back to how I liked to tease you when you lost, how I closed my mouth so that you wouldn't do it with me saying nonsense. I also think back to how I filled you with kisses so as not to let you breathe so as to forget it.
I confess that there are times when I can't stand you because of the distance. But these are moments that I would not cancel because I understand that even in that sweet annoyance of not being able to have you, the part in love with me lives, a large part, I must admit.
The butterflies that turn into tickles
Poets who talk about butterflies know very little about us. I think they are quite ticklish, like what I cause you when I can't find another way to calm you down (and between us, when I just feel like it). And you let me and I smile because in those moments I feel the mistress of time. Of your time, because you remain calm, except your lips that stretch lazily and lift into a smile.
And yes, we have overcome difficulties, so much so that there were times when, not even we were gluttons, we could have eaten the world. However, we are doing it ... I say "we are" because this is the best part, not what has been or will be, because, I tell you a secret, the distance to the horizon is infinite ...
This is why I like mathematicians, because they invent something and they believe in it. Like us, who invented something and believed in it. Okay, maybe you will tell me that we are not that elegant, but you will agree with me that we are braver, because among us there are no asymptotes that do not touch.
I don't want to forget even a second of our history
I don't want to forget even a second of our history because, thanks to memory, I carry you with me now that the distance separates us. Sure, the lost songs, images and phrases written in the dim light of a bar at dawn help, but without my memory I wouldn't be able to hold it all together and create a dictionary entry for the word "magic".
I would not even be able to make sense of so many other words that you have invaded by dint of patience. As Becquer would not have known what to give for a kiss, and he was a romantic, I have no idea what I would give for the memories behind us and for those that still remain, don't forget it, until we get old.
Soon you will enter the door, the same one that you pass every day with a dose of energy that would make any body jump and I will stop rummaging in the trunk of the memory to invite you to create new memories together. With the idea "in case we risk forgetting it" in mind, I live every moment with you, even if it means missing you.
There will come a time when you will feel that I will go slower, but remember how they wrote in the Middle Ages. With those goose feathers that were dipped in ink, testing the skill of those who used them. Wait, give me a second to pause on this image, because I love the fact that in old movies they use papyrus paper that was soaked in ink.
I go on, but I will not be like those directors, I will put in the script the good and the bad, the pity and the innocence, the joy and the sadness because there is everything up to the horizon. Because? Because the path is very long and I want to walk it with you ...