Those last lines


This post is in memory of two friends that helped me become the Alex you know today. This was long time ago, but I guess you never get used to saying goodbye to people close to you. RIP M&Mel


I still remember the last lines in that letter, those lines I never wanted to read. Probably the only letter I didn’t want to keep and that burned, a first in my whole life. I did that with the hope that the fire will do a better job than what my brain was doing and it would erase those memories and destroy all those feelings that were choking me .

It wasn’t your fault…

There is a funny thing about human emotions, they are still very primitives compared to the knowledge we have (in our books, websites and more), maybe they help us to survive in this crazy world, or maybe it’s because these emotions are the ones that help us remember the past.

But one of the most common things we hope to change is the past

The sole idea that “if I could have changed my schedule that night”, “if I had said “No, I don’t want to go out” or even “if I asked them to stop for some food” could have changed everything. Just a few more seconds, or maybe a few less could have changed everything.

But of course it wasn’t like that.

Guilt, the idea that you are the cause for something bad to happen and that it can’t be changed (and that this will impact many more people that you could have ever imagined) is a haunting one. But there was no coming back when you believe that, when you feel it in your heart.

After a few weeks of the incident (or maybe it was only a few days), I ended at the doorsteps oh her house. Fear didn’t let me move and while my brain rushed a million of ideas, I didn’t find a ways to say “Hi” to her sister, who was looking at me from the first step of the main door

<< You know, my parents still care about you, so you should at least say hi to them>>

I did know. But it was my fault.

The whole afternoon was a weird dream, hearing her parents repeat so many things she used to say to make me smile, to make them smile, to make everyone smile was strange, a weird type of deja vu. Seen a few smiles from them while we talked was comforting.

<<This is for you>> her mom said <<We think you should read it when you think you are prepared>> with a hint of precaution. It was next to that book you lent her, since you are leaving I think she wanted to give it back to you

<<I will>> I said <<Thanks for everything. I hope… I hope one day to see you again>> I think I managed to said that before I turned my back and started walking with a few tears in my eyes. Probably I didn’t


A letter… Perfect… And how I’m suppose to read this AND reply to her

The letter was a perfect mix of all her advice, tips and ideas I still keep to this day. I do believe that she wanted me to be positive and less sarcastic, to be happy in my silly way. Maybe that is why I still hold the envelope of her letter with me.

I burned her letter because I didn’t want to have an object that was just a list of her advice, I wanted to embed them  in my life, because her advice were going to be applied right away. I burned the letter because I didn’t wanted to have it in that way, not if she wasn’t the one that send it to me… personally (I was stubborn back them… maybe I’m still are).

But I knew that was never going to happen.

The last lines were a simple idea, a very honest paragraph that I think I still remember word by word or at least it main idea:

<< I know your time is running out, that as always you are about to leave for another city as you always do. Just remember life is not easy or perfect but a nice (latin) smile always help you a lot>>

<<Be happy, be positive and promise me you will help others even if you are the new one>>

I kept the envelope for a few years with the silly idea to send it back to her (to the old house), send a letter when I became a better person, that I was in peace and I could smile.

I kept the envelope because of I could see her name and a smile written on top of it, as well as her bf M. wrote in a less fashionable way:

<<Proud of you dude>>


Both of them helped me when I was a shy, skinnier and less confident version of myself. I sent the envelop back with the letter this summer, I think she could have been proud.





2 thoughts on “Those last lines

  1. Pingback: Una mala influencia…. | descolado en China // away in China

  2. Pingback: When a bridge burns down | Away from home / Descolado

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