The Beautiful Charm of Relationships
—The other day I took Sergio to Disneyland.
—Oh yeah…
—He was scared of all the rides. What a useless kid. I love every single ride. But he cried every time I tried to get him on one.
—Oh, poor thing.
—What do you mean, poor thing? He’s 10 years old, he can’t be afraid of that.
—If he’s scared, he’s scared.
—No, come on.
—What do you mean, “no”?
—I have to toughen him up. He can’t go through life afraid of everything.
—Sure, but it’s natural to get scared on a ride. I don’t think life throws many challenges at you that shake you until you’re sick. That way, you’ll give Sergio a skill he’ll only use at Disneyland. (She smiles.) I get it — I hate them too.
—You’re scared of them?
—Yes, once I got on a Ferris wheel and screamed like a little girl who’d just found a spider in her bed.
—Hahaha… you’re nuts… hahaha… you’re a little crazy… hahaha.
They keep walking through the market and he, seeing her happy and carried away by the moment, puts his arm around her shoulder.
—Hey… no.
—Come on…
—No.
—Laura…
—What?
—Laura…
—Come on, can’t we just laugh and…? Why do we always have to go “there”? Look at your face right now.
—Hey, we both know…
—No, no… please.
—It’s just that I have this feeling that…
—No, no. I don’t want to see your miserable face when it’s all over. Please just leave it.
—Why?
—Because… I value our friendship. And you’re going to ruin it.
—Why do you say that?
—Because… you keep pushing me. And I don’t want to go down that road. You’ll end up feeling so bad you’ll want to stop seeing me altogether.
—Now you’re worried I won’t want to see you?
—Man…
—Look, Laura, I know you don’t feel the same way I do. I know that, I’m not an idiot. I don’t… it’s fine, actually I like how things are — this constant state of agitation. It’s better, honestly, than any requited love I’ve ever had.
—Now you’re depressing me.
—No, look, all I’m saying is I want to be your friend. And I don’t mind that there’s nothing more. But can I tell you just once what I feel for you?
—You want to tell me?
—Yes… please.
—Fine, go ahead.
—Laura… I’m in love with you.
—Oh God… (Covering her eyes.)
—Yes! It’s that serious. But I think you’re wonderful.
—Oh no… please.
—Quiet. Let me say it… let me.
—…
—Looking at your face, or even just thinking about you, wrecks me completely. I love the way you treat me, how funny you are, and… the way you tease me — you laugh at me, you’re real.
She crosses her arms and looks at him, surprised, as he continues.
—I don’t have enough hours in the day to think about you as much as I want to. I’d need to live a thousand years to have a single thought: that I’m mad about you.
—Marcos… (She says, with soft eyes.)
—I really don’t want to, I truly don’t… Laura. I don’t think about other women anymore. Now I only think about you. The other night I dreamed that you and I were on a train. We were on a train and you took my hand. You took my hand. I woke up and couldn’t understand why it wasn’t real. I’m sick with love for you. It’s like a disease. I feel like I’ll die if I’m not with you. So I’m going to die. I don’t care, because I think I came into this world to meet you… and that’s enough. The idea that you might feel the same is selfish of me. God… I’m making a mess of this.
—No, not at all.
—Oh, really?
—Really. You did it beautifully… it’s a gem. Good work… it’s very lovely.
—Is there any planet, any place, where you could feel the same? Is it possible you have even a fragment of a fraction of those feelings?
—I…
—No.
—Yes… no…
—No.
—Yes… no…
—Right… no.
—But it was beautiful. You made me feel very good.
—Wonderful, that’s great. What joy.
—It was very…
—Is nothing coming back in the other direction?
—I’m sorry.
—Not even…
—I’m sorry.
—Nothing.
—No… I’m sorry, but it was very lovely.
—Right.
—Very lovely.
—Yes… well…
—And now we continue walking around here very… awkwardly.
—Of course, let’s keep going.
—I need to do some shopping. Will you come with me?
—Yes, whatever you like.
—Hey, watch your step.
—Right.
They arrive at Laura’s house.
—Sorry, it’s very messy.
—Don’t worry. Where do you want this?
—Right there is perfect. Thank you.
—Where’s Sergio? (He asks as she turns on the bath tap.)
—Hm?
—Where’s Sergio?
—He’s sleeping over at a friend’s after football.
—Good.
—Would you like something to drink? Would you like to have a bath? Are you hungry?
—I’m a bit tired.
—Ah… okay. Well, if you want…
—I think I’d better go.
—Oh… alright… okay.
—See you later…
—Ah, yes, of course… see you later. Hey, it was…
—Yeah, we’ll talk soon…
—Yes, yes, okay…
—Adéu…
—Adéu…
She goes back to the bathroom and turns off the tap. Ring… Ring…
—Hello?
—Hi.
—Hi, Marcos.
—Did you ask me if I wanted to have a bath?
—Yes.
—Did you mean with you?
—Yes, exactly.
—You wanted to take a bath with me?
—It was an impulse, so…
—So it was an impulse…
—Yes.
—I had one too — when you turned on the tap, I was putting the white wine in the fridge.
—Wait for me, I’ll go turn the tap back on, and then I’ll scold you.
Marcos comes in and waits for Laura.
—The bath tap is on again, Marcos. Get ready.
He walks toward her and says:
—Kiss me and tell me you love me… darling!
—Of course… my love!! Get ready.
—Ready, Laura, to feel your hands.
Chiin… chiin.
Dedicado a Carmina, la mujer que tiene la voz más bonita y especial de todas las voces.
Cuando vuelvo a diálisis y te veo aparecer por el horizonte, tu luz ilumina de nuevo mi corazón, deseando cada día que lo que siento por ti no se acabe nunca.
Carmina, ya no puedo vivir sin ver tus bonitos ojos. Todo en ti es maravilloso: tu precioso pelo, tu grácil cuerpo, las caricias que doy a tus brazos cuando te acercas, y tus manos… ¡Oh, tus manos! Qué decir de tus manos.
Si yo tuviera fuerza suficiente para pensar en lo que sentí, cuando soñé que acariciaba tus manos, me levantaría y alzaría mi voz para decirte:
«Yo, ni siendo príncipe ni rey, clamo al cielo por mi honor, que tuve delante de mí y besé las manos más hermosas que nadie en esta tierra pueda imaginar. Tan bellas eran que sufrí, sin yo querer, una emoción tal que el sentido perdí. Al despertar, aún turbado por la dicha, me levanté y vi… con estos mis ojos, a la chica más bonita del mundo.»
Carlos. 27/12/2018
Pdta.: En mis escritos no hay límites entre lo ordinario y lo extraordinario. Todo existe al mismo tiempo. Los límites son una creación mental.