A R G E N T I N O
..........I need to write tonight, cause tomorrow I may forget it.
..........I wish I could say he'll be forever there. In the same place I want to keep him. But time changes everything. Time heals all wounds. Time saves us from ourselves. It is, in the end, what kills us, but also what keeps us alive. Soon, I know time will change how I feel about him. So let's write about it tonight.
..........Summer crush, some say. Irrevocable desire, others agree. Well, I don't know. Who is he? I don't know. I wish I did, but how can we know someone who never opens up to you? Someone who uses mystery as a weapon of seduction? Would I like him if I really knew him? I can't know. The ugly truth is that I'll never really know and right now... I'm not sure I even care anymore.
..........Who is he? A crush. A big, unexplicable and illogical crush. Who am I? A girl like any other, maybe just sillier at times... Who are we? Strangers who met in a midnight summer dream during the holidays. Strangers who liked each other instanctly and weren't afraid to show it. Strangers who gave up to temptation, strangers who knew no real boundaries. Call it Lust, call it Sin. Well, I call it Living.
..........He may leave tomorrow. I may mean absolutely nothing to him. After all, we've just known each other for four months. And even I, who now seem to give it so much value... even I may forget him sooner than I'd like. But at least I'll have written it down. I need to remember. I need to fill this growing emptiness inside.
..........Do I believe in love? Was it love? The first kiss in the bathroom, his hand squeezing mine under the blanket, the soirées at his place playing cards, the messages, the Nuit Blanche (with that thrilling moment on the bus – his eyes starring down at me while he held me so close to him), the Halloween night and finally the last night... Was it love? Am I allowed to call it love? No. I guess not. Love doesn't work this way.
..........Was it just desire? Was it just passion? Probably.
..........I need to write tonight, because I know I'll miss him. I know I'll miss hoping he will call. I know I'll miss his overwhelming culture. I know I'll miss hearing his cute voice. I know I'll miss his hands over my body. I know I'll miss his smell. I know I'll miss feeling wanted by him. The burning lust. I'll miss the moments we had together. I'll miss the moments I wish we had lived. Tonight, there are too many things I'll miss and so I need to let you all know. Cause my chest is aching and my eyes are filling up with tears.
..........Do I regret it? Do I regret playing the fool? No. I believed, I hoped and I fell. (should we say: again?) Did I lose everything? No. I gained. I gained memories and experience. I gained something to complete my stories. Something to write about. So, in the end, I'm not lost. Or, at least, as lost as I was last time. I know this will pass, like it already did before. And although I know it always passes... I guess that just scares me even more.
..........And so I write.
" Truc de ouf. " "Ah oui, ça il faut le dire." " Lokita, viens au bar cubain... " "Si tu viens, je t'embrasse et je meurs d'envie." "Maintenant je vais te faire chier et tu vas me faire chier. Tous les jours..." "Pobrecito." "Au fond, je crois qu'on naît seul et on meurt seul." "Tu reviens ok? De toute façon, faut que tu me rendes ma veste... Je t'attend." "Ça me ferait plaisir de te voir ce soir." "Jajaja alors viens seule si ça te genes pas..." "Puisque ce n'était pas ni le bon moment, ni le bon endroit pour toi..."
