Remember that story I wrote?
spoke of our meetings in the Plaza Nueva, where the City. Defended the thesis of late for first appointments in a system, because it was wonderful you started impatient waiting, you'll begin to think of me, even worse and get angry for my delay. While came to meet you, imagine what you would have set for the occasion or if you would have picked up the hair, if you take with this perfume that smells like roses. Dreamed eager to take on the most beautiful corners of the city and get lost, perhaps in the Café Picalagartos, perhaps in the Parque de Maria Luisa. Do you remember that time we did so late in the park that made me jump the fence to get out? Mother, if I had to do it now sure that I would give his side. You climb like a squirrel, with pure ease and balance.
I do not know if you remember that story which emerged shortly after at least two of my songs. Remember that there were days to miss class and I sang Auxi going? With that look liquid and your tender voice, languid afternoons in Spring and Seville. Nyman Do you remember? And notes sounded Big my secret full of truth when piano keys were caressed by the tips of your fingers.
was amazing to be immersed in the universe of your life. Skin me, words, kindness and sharing both with you.
I loved that period of time, I enjoyed it, I reveled in the wind and in the streets that separated us, knowing that ultimately, the end was you. There were, bright and beautiful, strong and whole life ahead, with your wallet tight against the chest and winter flag. Your boots and your warm brown skin and her uncertain future that was to come. I loved the wait because I knew I'd be thinking forward.
Instead, the spiral expected to live in now I do not like. That we live in your family and friends, that we so impatient and we burn, we have suffered and feel in our flesh, your flesh. The stroke, trauma, sleep you are black, sedated while awaiting developments in your recovery. This expectation will be hell until we see you open your eyes, smile, a glimpse at your face again that look of water that characterizes you. The inexorable spell your voice is the voice now your parents, your siblings, your friends, all of us inside. We are waiting for you. We are looking at the edge of a precipice, but sure, yes they will fight with all your strength to overcome it, to get ahead. The hope has always been your banner and you are a fighter and fearless. You'll go through the gate with the same ease. You still have much to build and give us many anecdotes, many kisses, hugs, and I'm sure that will not allow doblegarte before this terrible blow that life has given you.
This expectation, however, this not knowing is a "no life" held in each of our heartbeats. You're a gale, small Remember? A beautiful force of nature, you want good, safe and sound. You know you're waiting, we all depended on you, smelling your breath and kissing his forehead. Warm and soft as ever. You'll be fine, my girl. And when this happens, the wait will not want to repeat it back anymore, and I will be the first to come on time to meet you when we are in the Plaza Nueva.
And everything will be alright.
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