Ella / Her

Ella / Her

Ella era como una suave brisa en medio del caos universitario, una presencia cálida y sutil que hacia gala de su pasión por el conocimiento. Ella observaba sus libros con esos hermoso ojos color caramelo, irradiando una paz única, capaz de calmar mis torpezas al tratar de entender la lección. Cada vez que sonreía, el mundo parecía detenerse por un instante, aunque sólo pudiera escuchar su bella voz.

Nuestro encuentro fue por azares del destino. En un punto cualquiera del campus, en medio de aquel jardín. Desde el primer momento, vi lo pura de su alma, la vi caminando despertando una serie de sentimientos que nunca antes pensé sentir. Ella de piel canela, cabello negro, ojos almendrados, nariz cóncava y labios delgados. Ella hermosa en su simpleza, dejándome absorto en su mundo lleno de matices en su vasto intelecto propio de un genio que no sabe nada del amor.

Caminamos juntos por pasillo iluminados, calles oscuras, parques adornados por la luna y playas intensas por el sol, compartiendo sueños y secretos, ilusiones y fracasos, discrepancias y concordancias, besos y abrazos. En cada mirada, encontraba un refugio donde perderme, un lugar donde hallar la paz en medio del frenesí de la sociedad. Juntos, creamos un hábitat paralelo donde el tiempo se detenía, donde el amor fluía como un río eterno. Donde podíamos amar.

A veces, me sorprendía pensando en ella en medio de la rutina diaria, recordando su aroma, su risa, su forma de andar. Cada pequeño detalle se convertía en un tesoro que atesoraba en lo más profundo de mi corazón. Y en esos momentos de añoranza, sentía la certeza de que ella estaría igual.

Aunque el tiempo pasara y las estaciones cambiaban, nuestro amor permanecía inmutable, como un faro en medio de la tempestad. Juntos enfrentamos desafíos terribles, superamos obstáculos y celebramos victorias, reímos y lloramos pero nunca nos dejamos amedrentar. Porque en su abrazo encontré el hogar que siempre había buscado, en su sonrisa encontré la felicidad que creía perdida.

Ella, a veces fuego y a veces hielo, me enseñó que el verdadero amor trasciende las palabras y se expresa en los pequeños gestos cotidianos. Y así, entre risas y complicidades, entre sueños compartidos y promesas susurradas al viento, construimos nuestra propia historia de amor, nuestro propio hogar.

Lo sé, los tiempos han cambiado y las relaciones hoy, no suelen perdurar. Pero ella me enseño que el verdadero camino es cuando dos opuestos en todo sentido tienen la intensión, la fuerza, la necesidad, el hambre y la valentía de querer perseverar.


She was like a soft breeze in the middle of the university chaos, a warm and subtle presence that showed off her passion for knowledge. She looked at her books with those beautiful caramel-colored eyes, radiating a unique peace, capable of calming my clumsiness when trying to understand the lesson. Every time she smiled, the world seemed to stop for an instant, even though all she could hear was her beautiful voice.

Our meeting was by chance of fate. At any point on the campus, in the middle of that garden. From the first moment, I saw how pure her soul was, I saw her walking awakening a series of feelings that I never thought I would feel before. She has tan skin, black hair, almond-shaped eyes, a concave nose and thin lips. She beautiful in her simplicity, leaving me absorbed in her world full of nuances in her vast intellect typical of a genius who knows nothing about love.

We walk together through illuminated hallways, dark streets, parks adorned by the moon and beaches intense by the sun, sharing dreams and secrets, illusions and failures, discrepancies and agreements, kisses and hugs. In every look, I found a refuge to lose myself, a place to find peace in the midst of the frenzy of society. Together, we created a parallel habitat where time stood still, where love flowed like an eternal river. Where we could love.

Sometimes, I caught myself thinking about her in the midst of the daily routine, remembering her scent, her laugh, her way of walking. Every little detail became a treasure that I treasured deep in my heart. And in those moments of longing, I felt certain that she would be the same.

Although time passed and the seasons changed, our love remained unchanged, like a lighthouse in the midst of the storm. Together we face terrible challenges, we overcome obstacles and celebrate victories, we laugh and cry but we never allow ourselves to be intimidated. Because in her embrace I found the home I had always looked for, in her smile I found the happiness I thought was lost.

She, sometimes fire and sometimes ice, taught me that true love transcends words and is expressed in small everyday gestures. And so, between laughter and complicity, between shared dreams and promises whispered in the wind, we built our own love story, our own home.

I know, times have changed and relationships today do not usually last. But she taught me that the true path is when two opposites in every sense have the intention, the strength, the need, the hunger and the courage to want to persevere.

La Realidad Egoísta (6)

La Realidad Egoísta (6)
  • ¡Hasta cuándo vas a seguir con este sueño estúpido! ¡No ves, que los pesos no nos alcanzan! ¡Estoy cansada de esto! No voy a pasarme la vida lavando platos y vasos – gritaba la madre mientras el hijo mayor veía con temor la expresión en su rostro.
  • ¿¡Por qué hablas asi!? ¡Siempre me tratas igual! – responde el esposo.
  • Tenemos dos hijos, tenemos que pagar la luz, el agua y el teléfono. ¿No te das cuenta? – continuó enfurecida la esposa.
  • Estoy haciendo lo mejor que puedo, también me canso, pero sigo trabajando por ellos. – respondió.
  • ¡No es por ellos, idiota! Quieres algo grande para este café ¡Eso no va a suceder aquí! ¡Estoy cansada de verte siempre con la misma «candaleta»! Podríamos estar en un mejor lugar, teniendo mejores cosas para nosotros y para los niños.
  • Todo va a estar bien, yo te voy a proteger.
  • No quiero seguir asi. – indicó la esposa.
  • ¡Quiero otra vida! – prosiguió.
  • ¡¿Qué quieres hacer?! – preguntó el esposo.
  • Voy a volver, con más fuerza a trabajar, pero ahorraré una parte. En este país no pienso quedarme. Quiero vivir en una casa grande, hermosa, lujosa. Tener una habitación inmensa, jardín, un closet inmenso con mucha ropa, una cochera con uno o dos carros lujosos. Quiero la vida que merecemos. Ve tú, si decides acompañarme en esto o si te vas yendo a un departamento pequeño o a casa de tus padres. Yo me voy, y lo voy a lograr. – con gran determinación en sus ojos y apretando los dientes dijo estas últimas palabras a su esposo.
  • Llegó la hora en que sea un medio de sus deseos. Hoy dejé de tener opinión y voto en esta casa. Soy un objeto más. – pensó el esposo, pero no dijo lo que pensaba.
  •  Ok, vamos por ello. – Fueron las palabras que él soltó.

Memories of a day in pandemic.

Memories of a day in pandemic.

September 8, Third year of the pandemic.

The prices of the basic basket rise more and more in Latin America. Lemon, sugar and rice have increased their prices by one hundred and fifteen percent. People who cook, whether to feed their family or for work, are running out of ideas for the daily menu.

We have a minister of economy who only talks nonsense through the media and an absent president, who only shows up when it comes to social works to boast of her image.

The morning news only shows the empty streets of the city, the hospitals with long lines of patients and/or the violent strikes of one or another union of workers fighting against the police force.

I get out of bed and leave my room to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, hoping it’s drinkable, while I watch my father watch the news complaining about the government. – One knows that this is common in elderly people. -My mother, covered with a mask, washes the dishes that we left dirty the night before, while she listens to the bad moods of her old husband in front of the television.

The three of us have been marked with the vaccine against the plague that plagues the world. I have three stripes on my arm symbolizing the three doses that correspond to my age, while my father and mother have five and four respectively.

12:00

Today it’s time to go to the market to buy more supplies. My father can’t go because of his age, he could and he wouldn’t want to, but we don’t let him. We get tough on him when we make these decisions. – I know it would be ugly to die from asphyxiation, perhaps one of the worst deaths there could be. But, it doesn’t matter to me, it’s not that I have much desire to continue existing in a society as rotten as the virus that harasses us. –

Welcome to Latin America!

14:00

I arrive from the supermarket carrying around eight bags in my hands, bringing basic foods such as potatoes, onions, tomatoes, rice, sugar, among others. I only had to walk about three blocks from where I bought them, although it seemed longer because of the bright sun that kept making me sweat.

As soon as I arrive, my younger sister is waiting for me with a hose in hand to perform a very archaic disinfection process on me. – It’s like a double bathroom. -I leave the supplies in a tray so that they can be disinfected with alcohol by my mother, while my sister sprays me with pressurized cold water to get rid of any «polluting agent» that she may bring in from the street. – It is surprising that I have not caught a cold to date. –

We had lunch in silence in the kitchen, while we continued watching the news from our beloved tabloid press. It seems that these gentlemen were paid much more, for ruining the lunch of all the families in the country, putting depressing images on the television.

We only see robberies, assaults and scams. One or another politician blaming another political group; which, in turn, they define as «doing politics», blaming them for the current situation and vociferating that with them in power this situation will be different. Then to soothe the endless social depression they give us some sports for dessert, to stoke the little hope that is in our hearts. – As if goals healed people -.

A very famous doctor in the media, recommends not getting depressed and having a good mental system so as not to fall into this terrible disease while the other hours of the day fill our heads with anguish and make us crave for not knowing what will happen tomorrow .

16:00

Bored of being locked up in my room playing video games, I go out to the door of my house to get some air. I breathe while I see how the dust covers the electrical cables on the roofs of each homes.

I return to the kitchen, only to realize that my parents are resting in their room and they probably plan on not coming back downstairs until tomorrow. I drink a glass of water and return to my room to see if I can entertain myself with a serie on streaming.

20:00

A commotion is heard in the distance that grows as more neighbors join in on this bustle. Society decided to hit a pot with a ladle as a sign of solidarity towards the professionals who are on the front line of battle. Doctors, Nurses, Police and Firefighters who have to deal with the incidents of confinement. This collective hubbub lasts for about fifteen minutes and then everything falls silent again. -It seems that today will once again be a day to go to bed early, a day to forget. –