10

The body is tired, painful. I come home. My wife awaits, perhaps for a very long time. I don't know what to think, I'm confused, confused how I've never been before. I remember today, I was out the whole day, while she stood here, alone, in our home.

I think about what I did and what I didn't. I ask myself whether I should be proud or ashamed. On the table all letters addresses say "To Anacreon Fonjic". This are all bills, bills that slice me and drown me, although I know one day or another I get some money and pay it, then it's all done. I enter sadly saying:

- Hi.

- Hi. Where you've been?

I stare Lucy. Beautiful, just beautiful. We're one year together and, fuck, it was the best year I ever had. I got twenty five, that's not too much, but I guess it is enough for me to learn how to fear life. I don't know why we had this discussion today, today, the day that should be ours, I just got an excuse for a fight and started it. I got out and said I would be soon back, we were both crying. That was midday and now it is almost seven. Lucy has three years less than I have. She still has that shining in her eyes, typical of the ones who drink from the essence of living, and she is always, always, beside me, she supports me and she never let me forget that she love me in the purest, sincerest and most ingenuous form.

- I was around. On the beach, visiting someone.

- And how was it?

I stare her. Her eyes are sadness. They show me she kept crying after I left. I ask myself how is it possible that someone so insecure and uncaring how I am can deserve her. Her eyesight tells me more e hurts more than any other thing could tell or hurt. I look my feet, avoid her eyes, avoid crying. When was that, that I became a sensible bastard. O most hurt me in her eyes is the certainty that I will make her sad, but I keep talking.

- I don't know. There was no one,

- This person wasn't there?

- I don't know. When I came to the front door of that house, I noticed it was all closed. I haven't got the guts, I don't know, I guess I always feared closed houses.

We remained in silence. I guess she was still trying to assimilate the meaning of what I was talking about. Perhaps I was still trying to assimilate what I said, wanted, thought. Our eyes found themselves lost and deep, they tried to find in the other some shadow of resemblance with what we were in the morning. I went to her, she was still, left me hug her. She started crying. Crying a lot. I wanted to cry either, cry a lot either, but the tears just didn't come. Maybe I was insensible at last. "I love you, love you, love you" I started to repeat. She kissed me. She kissed me for a long time with a kind of fondness that I could not understand. I did love her, only now I could see it clear, but yes, I loved her, loved her more than anything I had or will have and I ask myself why, why only now, after a year together, have I discovered that? "I love you" she said also, so weak that it was nearly a blew, unhearble. Then came the tears to me also.

We stood still in the room for a very long time, until we stopped crying and I said:

- Let's get to bed. Let's sleep...

- Nope.

I couldn't know what was she intending with that negative. I could only see thousands of fears and hypotheses flowing trough my mind. I hugged her stronger.

- We are going to bed, yes, but we ain't gonna sleep. Not today. Not this early.

She kissed me again, looking with that face of trickery and hot teasing that only she knew how to do it. I laugh, relieved after so much tension. We went kissing to the bedroom, kicking all that was in our path.

The light was off. Before closing the door I wonder how could I have doubted that I loved her. She was sun. She was life. She was all that put me in motion a and made me see it was worthy, living was worthy. I knew I could never be happy without her. I noticed all that in the moment. In that moment, just twelve hours before she crashed her car against a heavy loaded truck and we never met ourselves again.