Well, it was. Me too, but more of that intermittently, if I dare.
always gave me the impression that Sandra felt sometimes like the Soft Cell song, I sometimes felt I had to escape. Leave. Pain, things that seem to go anywhere, regardless of the things I could say. I could not sleep at night. This spot I have, my tears, good. Now I know she had to go, but not escape. Ever ran to me, well, now runs from me. Something like this was that song, Tainted Love. These queer who likes listening to you, haha, synthpop is straw and all, but it is full environment, ah. It is anachronistic to write letters and, in times of messaging instantánea y textos del celular, resulta anacrónico colocar las cosas de mi puño y letra, no crees, Lorena? Más aún, a la distancia, esta cosa tardará unos días en llegar, pero así es mejor. Sí.
Un par de cosas.
Sandra se largó sin decir nada, probablemente porque no había mucho que decir. Más allá de un par de ejercicios de Lovecraft en mi cabeza, o pequeñas ideas de secuestro, creo que Sandra se fue porque ya no aguantaba parar entre nosotros. Me siento cagado a veces, pienso que soy el responsable, pienso que de poder retroceder el tiempo, haría todo nuevamente, letra por letra de mis actos, acto por acto en mis letras. Soy malazo para escribir cartas, of any kind. Remember the nights eggs at the center? Will not last but two or three times, but what was cool, right? Naturally, that was before it happened, everything that happened, all our small egos, our eternal summers. I'm sick of it. Javier told him once, in February. I'm sick of playing these dramitas perpetual sick of your attempts at suicide, disgusted to hear Shakira albums and think "Maybe you have taken other actions." I am not well. I can not go back looking at life.
Yes, I told Javier. May have been able to say goodbye to someone, be dismissed Sandra Anton, well, the only person who knew why I'm out and when he did, that was Javier. This is equivalent to a bachelor, right? It is not necessary to include the illusion of mutual appreciation, the lie is to tell someone "do that for your best friend, no, Javier?". No, not necessary, and it was something like that. "Gothspit" was the last thing I said before take off. I think it's a band or similar, just look how little that can be in reality.
At this point, you are likely asking, "And why send a letter?" Good woman, that's because there are things that one is very queer to say face to face. Besides, you do not talk to me I do not know for many months, perhaps for reasons that were already exposed in the first paragraph. And finally, and perhaps this is the most important, because this letter is a kind of complement to a certain letter which I supposedly knew nothing about a letter from you, from a couple of years, perhaps beginning with "day after tomorrow it's Christmas. " Remember it? You were always good for these dramas, Lorena. Drama, drama, drama. It feels forced, forced to participate in your drills. How do you encourage this, how, make you a participant in something you think you've closed, or maybe ... I do not know. I think I could never really understand you.
"There much sand around here. " This was the first text message I received in March. I did not understand, I was really into myself in those days. A girl had finished with me less than a month, and you know how I feel about these situations, how you should treat these things. So, I did not understand the text message, read it and not give him importance, because it seemed that was meant for someone else, so brief and apparently part of a chain of messages from those that are sent every two minutes, a stupid conversation sms, and know how much I detest. About two days later, another, the same number "Check if there is a star called Spica." Here I was first interested in the subject, and checked the code number: 0199 ... Lima. Believe me or not, but I went to investigate. In fact two stars ... you do not even know why I say these things. I sent a text message back: "It's two stars, are in Virgo. By the way, who gave you my number? ". I replied. I called a couple of times, and was the cell of one Andrew, who completely denied sending me messages or have received mine. I left there, it was probably a boyish joke, and as I did not receive anything from that number, I forgot about it.
A month ago I received the third and last message. "The things are not right. Spica is not real, or maybe yes, but not what I thought. " This message came from the internet, but anyway I called the number he had, the only "track" that I had. The so Andrew said, and this time I told him to stop nonsense [Perhaps I said in somewhat stronger language]. I just mentioned how the star, he said very calmly "Surely it was more like Pluto and Charon" and I turned off the phone. I did not understand anything at the time, and then I understood it might not be exactly what he meant. Always the case, is not it? Divorce between the letters say and the letters that are understood, you taught me these pods. I sent another message threatening to stop that nonsense [Again, in other words]. And you might not have understood nothing and the issue never would have gone from being a rare story that you never tell anyone because he has no trace of what might be called "interesting" if it were not for Sandra called a day later. Trujillo was a number, something inexplicable, frankly, and I just answered your questions: I did not want to know anything about anything with it. To make your life what you want, as I ever said, "Not my problem, not more, at least."
I asked if he was OK, if still in town, on us all.
And then nothing at all was silent. It's weird, always talking up a storm. The awkward silence always lurking at every turn in a telephone conversation, no? Hahaha. If this was a Mexican television drama I should have said something else, reproached everything that happened, and finally, putearla as expected, for long and, precisely at the moment. Instead, all I did was ask what was going to do now. "Escape," he replied before hanging up, and that was the last I heard of it.
So I say, "Well, it was."
How important could this trivial fact? Why a letter that I send you, at this distance, and I will leave one arm and a leg, ends up being a kind of small talk about a friend in common? Security already noticed, is that nothing trivial, no? Hahaha. Yes, if I find it difficult to talk about things like that. So I say, I do not regret the things I do. I regret causing, Lorena.
Turning to the other. The second thing this couple of things. My best friend, yes, my best friend. With similar logic, you should make a long list of Mexican insult or something. No, actually, no. A little more briefly, this is not an issue that concerns me now. Nor do you cheat with the mask of maturity or the like, because we have been wronged, and if I get put on a scale more who hurt who would never ending story. Naturally
your letter would be in that scale. Your fear of me, you fear me, you agree with me. With this mask of maturity on, it could say "I just thought about you and pain you felt, what made you suffer." Without the mask, then, say, returned the pain, and very well.
Indeed, if this is a production of Televisa, no one would look good standing, all fit easy, easy, in the role of the bad. But we all perceive the party as they were in it, no? I put in the place of others, and assume that everyone interprets reality at will. Are entitled. That does not change the opinion I have of each person. That does not change the opinion that I may have formed, after so many years knowing, sharing many things, participating at this event. Because a party is, after all.
Just one more thought. Do not think that I ignore the whole concept that you've done to me, who have done me. Just as you do not ignore the ideas I have for you, what Javier knows first hand that I think about it. Perhaps to go [Escape would be the word of Sandra, but I hate the drama] he will think your idea of \u200b\u200bdegradation, as embodied in me, disappear. Nothing funnier than knowing that it will be worse without me nearby.
And I'm not around. Hey, there's plenty of snow around here.
Paul
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