R_Miranda

Cuando comenzamos a hablar todo parecía un poco extraño, revivir un poco de aquellos ratos en donde estábamos juntos en la escuela, aquellos momentos en donde convivíamos, cuando éramos suficienemente ajenos el uno del otro y parecía difícil comprendernos.       Cuando finalmente dejamos de hablar como desconocidos, después de que me contara que ha hecho y que yo hiciera lo mismo, que fuéramos de nuevo aquellos adolescentes ya no tan extraños, nos lanzamos una mirada de gran dicha... Era muy padre poder revivir momentos con aquella persona a la que siempre pudiste considerar tan cercana, tan tuya; una verdadera amistad.       Caminamos un momento por el parque recordando viejos momentos, en ratos hablábamos, pero en realidad sólo íbamos al lado el uno del otro, como dos almas que se reencuentran... Sin decir mucho, pero con mucho que compartíamos.      Las cosas avanzaban con la naturalidad habitual, sabíamos que todo volvería...

Feeling lost and empty... That was just the way he felt in that moment... Is kind of weird being in a room where the air is like blowing away... out of the room, to let you without consciousness, the feeling of being lost... the feeling of have lose everything you had in a moment, that the time had reached you to don't let you go away ever... The feeling of being lonely.     While the clock was moving forward, he thought about what he was doing with his life, and then he figured out that there was nothing that was wrong... but there was a void he couldn't ever fill... That was the feeling of being alone, he always felt alone... at least, that's what he thought in that moment, although it isn't true, that's the way he felt, then he remembered friends, and all that people that have been there in the hardest moments, at the ones he needed someone to hold, to speak to... But in that moment he figured out that... it wasn't that feeling of lonely, it was... just he ...

I'm walking by the streets one time I've trough in my life, those that have know a little story of one bigger, the story of my life.  When I walk in front of those streets, of those places, of all that I've known and that have known me, I just can find that, nothing has really changed in there, things are the same as the days when I was there... all seemed equal, even the people there, that although are not the same, seems like are doing the same as we did at other times... Now I'm thinking, if a place could talk about what have happened there, if it would ever remembered me? I really doubt that... I've never lived a really special moment or do anything that would save a history there... I'm thinking, what is there going to be of me, of my life, I don't really believe I've made something special for someone else life, and that makes me upset, really keeps on getting me down...  In life, there are different kinds of persons, in my particul...

A veces cuando leo las delicada frases que corren entre las lineas azules de aquel delicado papel, aquella pequeña carta que escribiste cuando hicimos aquel viaje por Europa, aquella carta que me escribiste con tu francés y que siempre e encantaba me leyeras, con tu acento tan suave a mi oído, aun cuando yo no comprendiera casi nada...      "Des fois, je t'étonne beaucoup plus que tu peux penser, je suis très seule dans cette monde, qui est très loin de toi..."      Creo comprender el significado de algunas palabras, pero nunca he sabido en realdiad lo que dicen, la intuición me dice lo que significan, lo que yo quiero creer es lo que me guía... creo que puedes decir que comprendo lo que yo quiero... y es que sería maravilloso que así hubieras escrito una bella frase, aquella que siempre quise que me dijeras para que nunca más nos encontráramos como lo hacemos ahora...      "Mais les deux de nous savons que nous ne pouvons pas être ense...