Obliviar (Parte 1: O mensageiro que veio antes)

Esta estranha bruma de lembranças

Que se desfaz lentamente,

Como se fosse poeira,

Faz meu coração bater sereno

E minha alma repousar,

Numa paz silenciosa e calma.

Deito minha cabeça numa grande almofada

De brancas plumas,

Em uma cama de pétalas rubras,

Para sonhar com anjos

A aplacar minha dor.

Suas asas me envolvem

O corpo e a alma

E me trazem o conforto,

E a protecção morna

De amantes que se abrigam

E se protegem

Num tíbio e terno abraço.

***

- Por que ainda choras por isto? Já foi há tanto tempo. Isto pertence ao passado.

- Acho que nunca ultrapassei aquilo, na verdade.

- Devias. Isso não é bom para ti.

Aquele jovem, cujos olhos nunca pareciam acompanhar o sorrir dos lábios, numa entrega por inteiro, até tentou, mas o que conseguiu foi mostrar uma careta estranha. Por qual razão ele mantinha seu coração num luto constante, depois de tanto tempo? Aquilo já não fazia sentido.

***

Os dois amigos sentaram-se nas cadeiras de balanço, que estavam instaladas na varanda, a olhar o sol a se pôr, lenta e silenciosamente, no horizonte. Cada qual estava tão absorto em seus próprios pensamentos, que a interrupção foi quase como uma interferência à aquela quietude, como se a paz tivesse sido violada, mas que, ao mesmo tempo, soava apenas como uma extensão do pensamento, que vinha a se concretizar em palavras.

- Uma vez eu tive um irmão.

- Bom, agora tens a mim. Sou quase como um irmão para ti, de todo o jeito. Alguns amigos são mais próximos que irmãos, sabias?

- Nunca pensei nisso, na realidade.

- Dizem que os amigos são os irmãos que nós escolhemos para conviver connosco.

- De onde tu tiras estas coisas, afinal?

- Eu leio muito, na verdade…

O rapaz que usava óculos tentou sorrir, mas não pareceu funcionar. Seu amigo estava preocupado com sua sanidade, já que ele parecia estar sempre tão distante, ultimamente. Eles haviam evitado falar sobre o passado, por muito tempo. Mas os fantasmas simplesmente não desaparecem da memória, por mais que se deseje isso. Eles podem se esconder por uns tempos, mas nunca morrem. Parecia que aquela era uma das ocasiões em que eles vinham das trevas, de onde se escondiam, para expor-se à luz, por alguma razão inexplicável.

- Tu não pensas no que aconteceu? Nunca sentes falta deles, às vezes?

- Deles?

- Tua família…

- Claro que sim.

- Ainda bem que sim. Ultimamente tenho pensado muito neles.

- Por qual razão?

- Sinto tanto a falta deles.

- Tu sabes que o passado está enterrado… e bem fundo… literalmente…

- Talvez não…

O rapaz olhou para o amigo. Seus olhos estavam tão perdidos na distância. A dor e a tristeza eram tão evidentes, que pareciam materializar-se ali, na frente deles.

- Temos que tocar a vida para a frente, como sempre fizemos.

- Ah. Tá. Como se fosse fácil. Eu gostaria de poder viajar no tempo e mudar o que aconteceu. As coisas podiam ser tão diferentes agora.

- É. Só que não podemos.

- Tens certeza disto?

Ele sorriu. Parecia que uma ideia completamente insana se formava em sua mente.

- No que é que estás a pensar?

- Eu tive uma ideia. Há alguém que devemos visitar no fim-de-semana, quando ninguém vai suspeitar de uma saída do quartel.

- Ah. Não!

***

- Não é possível, de jeito nenhum! Se fosse, eu já podia ter voltado lá.

- Lá? Já não existe lá. Aquilo foi explodido e completamente destruído.

- Talvez se voltasse um pouco antes da destruição…

- Aquele mundo já não está lá…

- Tu não ias entender. Nem sei se eu entendo, se pensar bem na situação.

- Tem que haver um jeito. É muito importante para mim… para nós…

- Vocês não entendem. Eu não posso ajudá-los. Eu sou apenas um clone, não um cientista. Eu sou a criatura, não o criador…

***

- Tem que haver um jeito.

- Deixa de ser bobo. Tu sabes que não há… pelo menos por agora… nesta era.

- Eu não vou desistir.

- Pois devias. Já soas como um louco.

***

- Oumuamua?

- "Um mensageiro de longe, que chega primeiro".

- Eu imagino a confusão que está a causar aos cientistas, para tentar explicar a aparição.

- Pois. Mas as teorias são muito vãs, por enquanto.

- Eu tenho uma e acho que é a chave para o que procuramos.

- Pare com isso! Nunca ouvi tamanha loucura. 

- Tenho certeza que nosso amigo vai concordar comigo. Vamos visitá-lo mais uma vez...

- Oh, meu Deus! Lá vamos nós de novo!

***

Wild Like the Wind (Part 2)

I had been standing by the bar counter for a long time, cursing my own decision to force myself and leave home and get some distraction to my very skimpy social life. I should have certainly gone to the movies. At least I was safer and, undoubtedly, less bored. Where I was at the time I felt completely out of my natural environment. Less than an hour in that pub and I knew I would never make such a feat again. I definitely did not belong to that environment.

A large amount of people drinking, talking and laughing loudly were crowding the galleries. They seemed to enjoy themselves, mainly probably due to the effect of alcohol. I, however, from my side, was feeling pretty uncomfortable. That was a place that in my youth I would have attended, spontaneously and often, not only for the environment style, but especially for the good taste of the DJ’s musical selection.

The music, in fact, had been the only reason I had not had gone off the pub, vowing never to come back again. The classics of the 70s, 80s and 90s played endlessly and prevented me to hurry out. Despite the poor visibility, one could see that the designer had devoted special attention to the sober and careful vintage decoration, taking care of every little detail.

There was a small dance floor, opposite the bar where the lights seemed to have been dimmed and a group of people was rehearsing video clip steps amid the glowing coloured reflections of a hypnotic mirrored globe that spun above the heads of the dancers.

- Oh, I love this song. Do you dance?

- No way! I do not dance.

- Will you ruin this occasion for fear of dancing?

My answer was automatic, almost a defensive reflex of denial.

I turned around to see who was talking like that, almost intimately with me. The voice sounded familiar, but I did not recognize the face immediately. A green eyed middle-aged woman was looking up at me. Her fair hair, tied up into a ponytail, left her almost rounded face and lovely features completely exposed. She had a charming glint in her eyes and when she opened that broad and spontaneous grin, I had the impression she knew me forever.

It was that smile that made me recognize her too after all that time. To my own amazement I then realized I had no doubt who she was.

I said to myself:

Time has been very good to her! She looks so full of life and so peaceful...

She pretended not to notice my surprise and before I reacted, she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor, making way through the people who were laughing and talking almost louder than the music that was playing and were overcrowding the long and almost dark corridor.

- Oh, come on. Relax. Just let yourself be driven by the music.

She whispered that in my ear, causing me a strange effect. I felt somewhat comfortably alright in spite of having my muscles, especially the hips and legs, quite tense as I had not danced for a very long time and felt the whole body aching.

- Just be here and stay with me… entirely. Open the door to your heart.

- How could I, if I had lost the key... such a long ago...

- Don’t worry. I’ve found it…

And she hugged me tightly, like one who finds an old and dear friend, who has long not seen.

Regardless of feeling my legs and hips tense due to an evident lack of practice, I allowed myself swing with the music, embraced her delicate body with my arms crossed at her soft back and said nothing else. I just allowed myself be taken by the sound and the irresistible charm of the song. She laid her head on my chest and for a moment I thought she looked very small and fragile in there.

I had the feeling that woman needed to be there in that embrace, sheltered and protected from everything either good or bad. For a moment I forgot where I was and all that went up around us. A clear reminder of the willow which used to protect us from the world, went through my mind and I chuckled. She realized it and asked me:

- What was it?

- I just summoned up a vision of the willow in front of the library...

- Me too.

She hugged me tighter, as if afraid that I would go away. I pressed my body against hers as if wishing that time would stop running...

***

- Let's go to the beach, as we used to do in our good old times?

- Do you think that place still exists?

- It must be very different now, but things do not change place... or do they?

- Some might... I think… but we will only know for sure if we go there and see for ourselves.... Like when we used to when we were young and untamed...

I frowned. I no longer felt a young lad anymore for a long time. She laughed at me. I loved the way she laughed.

- Come on... Time has been good to us. We cannot complain much.

She was quite right. We still had so much life ahead of us and although mature and reasonably successful in our careers, we were still full of plans and energy.

- In my car or yours?

***

The sea was calm, in that constant back-and-forth movement of the waves washing the sand, insistently, but knowing that little could be done to change something. My soul was peaceful and my mind almost empty of that friendly sorrow that used to fill me up lately. The melodious voice of Bowie overflowed the room and my memories with a good dose of nostalgia. My eyes and my thoughts were wandering with no strings attached, far away in time and space. The wind, blowing though the long bamboo trees made they sway, hypnotically, and I let myself go, loose and quietly, into my own memories, in a kaleidoscope of images and emotions.

- Are you homesick?

- Nostalgic, perhaps...

I felt the gentle touch of her long pale and delicate fingers on my shoulder and turned, fixing my gaze onto hers...

The music took over my head and the space around us. The words we exchanged made much less sense than the verses of the song that played at least for the third consecutive time, in the same sequence. I felt very emotional and so did she.

...'For we're like creatures in the wind

And wild is the wind,

Wild is the wind'... *

***

I told her that I was still the same as before, but I knew that statement was far from the whole truth. I no longer felt wild in a long time. The many twists and turns that life has taken made me a cynical man either of the people or their good intentions. I avoided taking risks that were not well calculated or with tangible predictability. The only remnant of the rebellion of my youth was my stubbornness... a lot more than what was typically expected from the advancing of age...

What had I done to my life? Was it enough to assume that my dreams and opportunities should be left aside on behalf of a greater good? How many dreams have I given up to without at least having tried, over my lifetime? How many of my talents were wasted, for letting myself being too involved by my job commitments and by relationships that stifled my true self? Where was that young and fearless adventurer of other times?

I frowned when another song pierced my memory and my heart mercilessly, causing an uncontrollable reaction in me.

'Will you see that I'm scared and I'm lonely?'...**

I closed my eyes trying to control the tears... but it was in vain.

She walked to the computer, put another song to play on and held my hand as if she had not noticed the growing conflict within me and pulled me against her, nestling herself in the middle of a hug. To my ear, she spoke softly:

- Let us not make plans. Let us be as wild and free like the wind...

I felt my body shudder and said nothing. Just kissed her head, in a loving and spontaneous gesture.

...'Don’t you know you're life itself?'... *

- Care to dance?

- Of course!

***

* Wild is the Wind (David Bowie Station to Station -1976)

** Sweet Thing (David Bowie Diamond Dogs - 1974)

Indomável como o Vento (Parte 2)

Havia estado, por um bom tempo, encostado no balcão do bar, amaldiçoando minha decisão de forçar-me a sair de casa, para distrair-me. Devia ter ido ao cinema. Pelo menos estava seguro e, com certeza iria ser menos aborrecido. Ali, sentia-me completamente fora do meu meio natural. Menos de uma hora naquele lugar e eu já sabia que jamais voltaria a fazer tamanha façanha. Eu, definitivamente, não pertencia a aquele ambiente. 

As galerias estavam apinhadas de gente a beber, conversar e rir alto. Pareciam divertir-se, mormente devido ao efeito do álcool. Eu não. Sentia-me bastante mal. Aquele era um local que na minha juventude eu teria frequentado, espontânea e frequentemente, não só pelo estilo de ambiente, mas especialmente pelo bom gosto da seleção musical do DJ. 

A música, na verdade, havia sido a única razão pela qual eu ainda não havia saído correndo do pub, prometendo nunca mais voltar. Os clássicos das décadas de 70, 80 e 90 tocavam sem parar e impediam-me de despachar-me dali. Apesar da pouca visibilidade, podia-se perceber que o projetista havia dedicado especial atenção à sóbria e esmerada decoração vintage, pelo cuidado que teve com cada pequeno detalhe. 

Havia uma pequena pista de dança, no lado oposto ao bar, onde as luzes pareciam ter sido diminuídas e um grupo de pessoas ensaiava uns passos de vídeo clip, em meio a um hipnótico globo de espelhos que girava acima das cabeças dos dançarinos. 

- Adoro esta canção. Danças? 

- Nem pensar! Eu não danço. 

- Vais estragar, agora, o momento, por medo de dançar?

Minha resposta havia saído automaticamente, praticamente num reflexo defensivo de recusa. 

Eu voltei-me, para ver quem falava daquele jeito, quase íntimo, comigo. A voz parecia familiar, mas não reconheci o rosto de imediato. Uma mulher de meia-idade, de olhos verdes e cabelos claros, que os trazia presos num rabo-de-cavalo, deixando a face arredondada completamente à mostra. Tinha um brilho encantador no olhar e abriu um sorriso tão amplo e espontâneo, que pareceu demonstrar conhecer-me desde sempre. Foi aquele sorriso que fez-me reconhecê-la, mesmo depois de tanto tempo. Eu já não tinha dúvidas de quem ela era, para meu próprio espanto.

Pensei, imediatamente:

O tempo tem sido muito bom para ela! Parece tão bem e tão tranquila… 

Ela fingiu não perceber minha surpresa e, antes que me desse conta, estava sendo conduzido, pela mão, para a pista de dança, a abrir caminho entre as pessoas que amontoavam-se no longo corredor, a rir e falar alto, quase abafando o som da música. 

- Relaxa. Deixa-te levar pela música.

A voz, ao pé do ouvido, causou-me um estanho efeito. Realmente, meus músculos, especialmente os dos quadris e pernas, estavam bastante tensos. Não dançava há tanto tempo, que sentia o corpo todo a reclamar.

- Fica comigo. Abre a porta deste coração.

- Mas eu perdi a chave… já faz tanto tempo…

- Eu achei…

E ela abraçou-me com força, como quem encontra um velho e querido amigo, que há muito não via.

Apesar de sentir as pernas e os quadris doloridos com a falta de prática e tensão, deixei-me mover ao som da música, abracei seu delicado corpo com os braços cruzados às suas costas macias e não disse mais nada. Apenas deixei-me levar pelo som e pelo feitiço irresistível da canção. Ela encostou a cabeça no meu peito. Parecia tão pequena e frágil, naquele momento. 

Aquela mulher parecia necessitar estar ali naquele abraço, abrigada e protegida de todos os males. Por um momento eu esqueci onde estava e tudo que passava-se à nossa volta. Uma clara lembrança do salgueiro a proteger-nos do mundo, passou pela minha mente e eu ri. Ela percebeu.

- O que foi?

- Lembrei do salgueiro à frente da biblioteca…

- Eu também.

Ela abraçou-me com mais força, como se tivesse medo que eu me afastasse. Eu apertei seu corpo contra o meu, como se desejasse que o tempo parasse...

***

- Vamos até a praia, como costumávamos, nos nossos bons tempos? 

- Será que ainda existe aquele lugar? 

- Deve estar bem diferente, mas as coisas podem não mudam de lugar, assim… Ou mudam?

- Podem mudar… mas só saberemos se formos até lá e verificar por nós mesmos…. Como quando éramos jovens e indomáveis...

Eu fiz um muxoxo. Já não sentia-me um jovem há muito tempo. Ela riu.

- Vá lá… O tempo tem sido condescendente connosco. Não podemos reclamar.

Ela tinha uma certa dose de razão. Ainda tínhamos tanta vida à nossa frente e, apesar de amadurecidos e razoavelmente bem-sucedidos em nossas carreiras, ainda estávamos cheios de planos e de gás.

- Vamos no meu carro ou no teu?

***

O mar parecia calmo, no vai-e-vem constante das ondas a bater na areia, insistentemente, mas sabendo que pouco conseguiria fazer para mudar algo. Era como sentia minha alma naquele momento. A voz melodiosa de Bowie preenchia o ambiente e minhas memórias com uma boa dose de nostalgia. Meu olhar e meus pensamentos viajavam, sem amarras, para longe no tempo e no espaço. O vento balançava, hipnoticamente, as folhas das árvores e eu deixei-me levar, solto e tranquilo, pelas minhas próprias memórias, num caleidoscópio de imagens e emoções.

- Estás saudoso?

- Nostálgico, talvez… 

Senti a delicada mão, de dedos longilíneos a tocar-me, por trás, o ombro e voltei-me, fixando meu olhar no dela… 

A música tomou conta da minha cabeça e as palavras que trocamos deixaram de fazer mais sentido que os versos da canção, que tocava, pelo menos, pela terceira vez consecutiva, na mesma sequência, trazendo uma carga emocional bastante grande para nós os dois. 

…’For we’re like creatures in the wind

And wild is the wind,

Wild is the wind’…*

***

Eu havia-lhe dito que ainda era, praticamente, o mesmo de antes, mas sabia que aquela não era, nem de longe, toda a verdade. Eu já não sentia-me em estado selvagem há muito tempo. As muitas reviravoltas que a vida deu tornou-me um homem descrente das pessoas e de suas boas intenções. Eu já não corria riscos que não fossem muito bem calculados e com previsibilidade quase palpável. O único resquício da rebeldia da minha juventude era a teimosia… bem mais que a tipicamente esperada pelo avanço da idade… 

O que eu havia feito da minha vida? Será que bastava acreditar que era suficiente abrir mão de meus sonhos e oportunidades em nome de um bem maior? Quantos sonhos eu matei, sem, ao menos, ter tentado, durante aquele tempo todo? Quanto talento eu desperdicei, por deixar-me envolver, demais, pelos compromissos de trabalho e de relacionamentos que abafaram meu verdadeiro eu? Onde havia ficado aquele jovem aventureiro e destemido de outros tempos?

Franzi o cenho, quando a outra canção atingiu minha memória e meu coração em cheio, dando-me um golpe impiedoso e causando uma reação incontrolável. 

‘Will you see that I’m scared and I’m lonely?’…**

Fechei os olhos, para tentar conter as lágrimas… mas foi em vão. 

Ela foi até o computador, trocou a música e segurou minha mão, como se não tivesse percebido o conflito crescente dentro de mim e puxou-me contra ela, aninhando-se no meio de um abraço que ela mesma alinhavou. Ao meu ouvido, falou, baixinho:

- Não façamos planos. Sejamos soltos como o vento…

Eu senti o corpo estremecer e não disse nada. Apenas beijei-lhe a cabeça, num gesto carinhoso e espontâneo.

…’Don’t you know you’re life itself?’…*

- Danças?

- Claro!

***

* Wild is the Wind (David Bowie em Station to Station -1976)

** Sweet Thing (David Bowie em Diamond Dogs - 1974)

Wild Like the Wind (Part 1)

- It must be at least the third time you hear this same song over and over. You’re staring out and beyond that window and across the sea for some time already.

- Oh. I’m sorry. I have not realized...

- Are you homesick?

I felt a strange and unexpected, but familiar sting, piercing my chest.

- Nostalgic, perhaps...

- Any regrets?

She came closer and touched my shoulder from behind. I turned around and looked right into those eyes I knew very well. They looked greener and brighter with the daylight coming through the window. Her pupils dilated when our eyes met and I knew very well what that meant.

I reckon I am, most of the times, a very difficult person to deal with and once I have taken a decision, I hardly ever turn back or show any sign of regret. Perhaps I simply have learned, with life, how to become a somewhat gloomy man.

- I never have regrets... My heart is still the same as always, so there is no reason for any regrets. I'm practically the same as before... as and when you met me.

- I no longer know if you are the same as before. You were so free and so wild...

- Like the wind…

- Like the song repeats endlessly...

- As my head keeps on repeating endlessly...

And I got carried away by the caring memories...

***

- Who would ever need to be alone for so long?

I laughed. I admitted that I really spent plenty of time alone but I always needed that like the air I breathed. I did not expect anyone to understand, just to accept it. I knew she was just being confrontational, so I said:

- Me!

- You are yourself so unorthodox. 

- Unorthodox? Who in perfect sense still uses this kind of word nowadays?

- I'm not going to discuss it or try to understand... either you or your insanities! And don’t make fun of my unorthodox way of speaking.

She said it laughing, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She knew I was a lost battle and she did not want nor would fight for something she could not win. But she knew how to go around situations when she wanted something. I was a challenge to her powers of persuasion and creativity. And she loved challenges... especially the difficult ones.

The song played on the car CD player and I tried my best baritone voice to sing the well-known verses, along with the velvet and always amazing voice of the known singer.

She looked at me, looking somewhat puzzled, but said nothing else. She must have thought something really atrocious, but she just ended up laughing at my attempt to be a "cool" singer... I stopped singing and kept on humming and whispering the notes and a few words here and there, almost resisting the urge to sing as loudly as I could. She turned to the other side, as if enjoying the scenery, but I figured out that she was trying at all costs, to hold the laughter.

'How many people can value the power to make another smile? At least she is enjoying herself, even if it is at my expense’, I thought...

A wide view of the ocean opened up ahead of us when the car started going down the steep hill. The main road led to a secondary pathway which snaked down to the seaway, where a narrow dirty road hid one of our favourite beach spots.

***

We had become inseparable friends above all, from the time we were studying at the University. Either the small or the great adventures were part of what our friendship was all about. 

We used to have long discussions about our favourite books, which we read one after the other, in spite of being in a very technical course. Details and preferred parts, as well as our own interpretations of the intentions behind the words were also themes of our lengthy conversations. Music, movies and food... everything was notably part of our history. She had every Alice Cooper and Supertramp records. I was a fan of Bowie and Led Zeppelin and made a huge effort to save some money and complete my own collection.

We used to wander, wherever we could, almost aimlessly, around the country... even with little money, which was the best and riskier part of our adventures.

We were in company of each other whenever we could and people wondered if there was more than just a friendship between us. Some of them dared to ask us about it. We always denied it. In the end, we felt that going beyond that point could spoil our so innocently cultivated friendship. Time would show that our fear was completely unfounded.

We were always going together to the beach, the country side, or anyplace else. Nothing was too small for us to face, not big enough to stop us. We were like wild horses, free and adventurous. We were like seagulls, always ready to fly high and far, with eyes so far beyond the horizon, full of life and adrenaline.

- Do you think our friendship will ever cool down?

- Why worry? I like what we have... despite the adventures and our craziness, I feel it is so placid. Who can afford the luxury of being with one person and need not say anything, for long minutes and still seem to have said so much?

- I know.

She was silent for a moment, looking at the blue and white brushstroke sky, through the leaves and the long overhanging branches of the huge willow, planted around the lake, opposite to the University library. We lay on the lawn, side by side without touching one another. It was our favourite place, away from everyone and everything.

- It's all very intense, but...

- What worries you? Do you fear anything can happen and change this?

- I think it's already happening...

I turned around and looked at her, worried about what she would say, feeling a sudden discomfort rising in my chest.

- What do you mean?

- What if someone showed up in my life and wanted more than friendship from me?

- If that would make you happy...

She looked at my face.

- And if that changed what we have now? I don’t want to lose your friendship.

- It will not change anything. Unless we allow it to. And we won’t, will we?

A pale ray of light hit her blond hair framing her round face with a strange light. Her eyes looked bigger and brighter. She looked me in the eye. Her pupils dilated, almost covering those unusual iris, so green then with the bright sunlight.

- I'm afraid of losing it...

In a foolish rush of insanity, I came closer to her and for once in such a long time, I felt that she shuddered and stopped. A strange feeling filled me up. Before I realized, my lips were on hers and our arms were wrapped around each other’s bodies.

It was a simple, affectionate kiss, not exactly sexy. But both of us realized it was a sign of a great change in us and an important milestone to that friendship.

We said nothing, just moved away from each other, looking at different sides. I lay down on the grass again and closed my eyes. I thought I messed it all up. What went on through my head? She had just spoken about another man and of a possible relationship and I made that senseless and inconvenient blunder...

'I’m such a stupid man!'

I cursed my tactless attitude, now afraid of having put everything to lose. My eyes were still closed and feeling ashamed, I said:

- I apologize. I…

I gasped. The words just did not come out. I covered my face with my hands. I felt so bad. What if she hated me, from then on, to spoil the beauty of our friendship?

The wind blew over the overhanging branches of the tree around us. It was like the wind of change, signalling the end of our innocence...

I was feeling sad and helpless, unable to face her or make the time go back, even if it were only for a few seconds...

That was when I felt she was much closer to me than I thought. Her lips touched mine gently, but that time with more sensuality than when I forced the first kiss.

Without much thinking, I surrendered to that touch, awkwardly at first, but I relaxed my defences and gave my body and soul in to it, right there, in the shade of the willow tree, whose leaves and branches hid us from the world that turned around us, unconscious of what was happening in that tiny piece of protected universe...

***

- Has it been that long?

- Since that day?

I nodded, a bit sad and thoughtful.

- Of course.

- Remember how people used to envy what we had? We were so close to each other…

- Until that day...

- Leave the past back where it belongs. We have made so many mistakes and have fixed some, somehow... Let’s not think about it anymore.

I came up and looked into her eyes, as I used to do so often before that. She still had that spark that ignited when our eyes crossed.

I wondered for what reason we had left the fear intervene in what there was between us.

So long… so much lost... two kisses, twice the same mistake... and that friendship, once so innocent, spoilt by the heat of the moment and a sense of misplaced and inconvenient guilt... that separated us for too long.

Our lives went on in separate ways, as they should go. Two marriages, two divorces... one of each... so much story to tell or to be forgotten...

My divorce had been so long past, I could not even remember what it was like to live with someone again. I was back to being the lonely and wild man, living by my own rules and keeping myself distant from relationships and people...

Who could say, however, that the same song, after all that time, would bring us together once again?

***