Life Without Maladjusted

It was 6am when I stood in my black Chinese pajamas, waiting for him as the lazy rising sun caressed the window sill like a finger gently touching a piano as it walked by. I didn’t know it would be the last time. Maybe it’s better this way; otherwise we wouldn’t have been so cheerful, so full of hope. So many details escape my mind now, I resort to joining many different moments into one huge memory.

How did we end up meeting? It was a sunny afternoon, and we said hello as if we had known each other for a long time. But why? How did it all begin? I can see myself writing and looking at his picture, thinking I might never see him personally, but I cannot trace an origin to this friendship. It doesn’t matter. Whatever led us to this was a miracle, and I’m thankful for all the time we were able to share together. I miss him, yet I know we’ll meet again,… and then we will drink lots of juice, have a movie marathon, walk nonstop, imitate foreign accents and laugh about pretty much everything.

Farewell, my dear; be ready for our next rendezvous! Meanwhile, I’ll drink some Inca Kola in your honor (can you believe it? I still haven’t drunk the last one you brought me!).

Open Your Presents, Happy New Year

My New Year gift was lying on the couch, wrapped in blankets and fast asleep. I jumped out of bed as soon as I’d realized the living room wouldn’t be empty this morning, and, like a child at Christmas dawn, I dashed downstairs.

Not a sound could be heard, save the quiet hissing of air leaving his lungs. I caressed his forehead and cheeks until his eyelashes fluttered like newborn butterflies. Then he looked at me. We smiled. We spoke in whispers, savoring the silence we tore like thin paper.

Happy New Year. Thank you for being with me, for the touch of your hand and your beautiful tranquil eyes.