Dejarle ir a la persona que amas no es lo mismo que dejarla de amar. (Lilith Saintcrow)

To let go, in my case it has never been by choice. I was once the girl that captivated the eyes of a serious, respectable and silent man. In his last years of life nobody held his attention like I did, all his free time at home we would spend together or go out to the park or the bakery shop to get ice cream or sweets. His love for photography left a thousand memories without date or place, only representing the love he felt for me. Marianita, ¿cuándo viene su papá? el jueves. We would visit his many friends and usually someone would be recording it on video. Yes, I was that little girl, silent, curious, colorfully dressed by my mom, picking flowers and with bright eyes. Friends of my parents would say: esa niña va a ser inteligente, siempre calladita pero muy curiosa. He was a man whom I don’t know much about, but I wish I knew everything. He was the general, and as such almost everyone would be at his feet, everyone except my mom, how funny it was how they came to meet. I only got to know the story 9 years after he was gone.

He told me some words I will never forget, and that yet today guide me, while my mother was chasing me around the house for me to do my homework (always hard to catch for my mother, and always looking for refuge behind my father). After he made her calm down, he sat me in his lap and said, I know that one day you’ll be a great student, I have no doubt about it, but you must not worry, follow what your mother says but never forget to live. A few days afterwards and for a long decade I had no place to hide, I disconnected myself from everything except from the moon and the stars. The window to my soul was as empty as the window that reflected the night sky, or as full with emotions as it is black.

A thousand times I’ve said goodbye. When it wasn’t the mysterious something that would scare me in Bambi, then it was my best friend going away to Chile because the times had changed over there and her family would get a new start after the dictatorship they had lived and avoided being here.

Maybe it was reading Who has taken my cheese? or whatever the title in English was, and trying to explain it to my seventh grade friends, or maybe just life as it came: pure, simple, quiet. But I managed to do what all those boring books say, to stop and admire the small things. Then somehow I set my mind to be happy. Last year, almost one year exactly, I only wished for one thing. As I was in an art exhibition at my faculty I was admiring how these other students could so easily give a part of themselves to those watching their art and I wondered how great that must feel, to let anybody know who you are in the most peculiar ways. But there’s a catch, you need to have something to show, just like in every business you must have something to sell. And so I wished for me to be able to experiment life, being ready (or maybe not) for anything that could happen.

Some people just say I’m too lucky to walk in this city the way I do and to return perfectly safe or to take people inside my home who I barely know. But all I know is that I will not stop doing so. The greatness in life lies in the things that you are yet to meet.


  1. mary espectcular hasta me hiciste llorar ta bueno ta bueno me gusto me senti en parte identificada

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