Absinthe

Una Falsa Carta (Fragmento)

You have to understand that writing this is one of the most difficult things I've ever done... but I've realized that I wanted you to know, not because it's going to change anything, not because of a selfish desire of mine, but because it's relieving for me and simply fair to you. Don't think I didn't want to spend every moment of Paris with you, but it was just too hard knowing that you were there, so close to me and yet so unreachable, so indifferent to what was troubling my heart. And then, seeing you with your boyfriend living the life of the wife for you, such a beatiful and young girl, thinking about marriage when you still jump metros and take hours to roll a joint, the one who gets drunk with half a bottle of Martini and makes me shiver in cluelessness, the one who drank absinthe with me one sad night when nothing and everything happened, drinking honey tea on the terrace of a place that barely existed in Leiden, that existed just for the both of us, like a play where the extras are props and the stars shine through the misty cold of the deep Lowlands.

Yes, I remember clearly like it was yesterday...

***

Violence et haine. Cuba libre y Pielrojas. Absynth and sweet popcorn. Pannekoek en siroop. Fireworks and piano strings. Merlot y uvas verdes.

Where do the reveries end and the dreams begin anew? From the Castle on the Mountain? From the rotten chairs in the balcony?

As ashes fall and the green fairy drips slowly from your tense fingers...

-I pray to get out of this circle of... haine?
-Yes, haine. That's the word.

*****

You were part of my story, and as such you cannot leave the stage without a final bow to the world, some final words of understanding and peace. I expect nothing but relief.


Just Me

publicadas por Germán @ 7/13/2006 08:26:00 a.m.