We did have that conversation which was composed of those words that are still resounding here and I’m sure you can hear them if you pay a little bit of attention. That’s next step in this story, and we are going right to that point in this very moment. Verbatim:
- I love you.
We still loved that corner of the park.
- I love you too.
Not even looking at me. She was pretending to be interested in the thickness of the grass beneath her feet.
- Not the way I love you.
I saw her chest billowing.
- What way is that?
She undid a knot in the laces of her jacket, she kept balancing her shoes over the edge of the sweet, thin, green grass she was counting one by one.
- The way you fear and that’s why you’re gonna leave.
She turned and looked right to my eyes. They were both wet, slightly wet, slightly strong enough to handle my own gaze. I stared at her. I stared with a mixed expectation. I was hating and I was loving in just one desperate stare.
- I’m not leaving. I’m just coming back home.
Anger beat sympathy. I turned back to watch the people wandering through the filthy tracks of the park. I did not even recognize my voice:
- I had a different concept of what home means. I guess mine is much more brave and honest.
She jumped. She stepped back. She was looking at me while I was looking at them. She said:
- I guess this is a goodbye. Not the one I expected. I just wanted to tell you that these days have been wonderful days and that I really love you even though you consider it to be the wrong way. Have fun and be lucky. See you.
Now comes the part in which I feel I’m Humphrey Bogart so I’ll say that she did not even turn round and listened to what I said chocking a gesture of pain and sadness. Though, you know, I was not even looking at her.
- Wait. I’ll give a party tomorrow night. All those friends you met these last and wonderful days. I will be waiting for you. And I will be waiting for you any way.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario