"Os teus braços à minha volta eram a minha protecção. A tua testa colada à minha, a minha calma. O teu beijo, o meu único desejo e objectivo. Beijei-te pela última vez, em frente a toda a gente, sem saber quando iria voltar a ver-te. Passei a mão pelo teu cabelo, pela tua cara e pelo teu peito, e comecei a andar em direcção ao autocarro. O motorista estava prestes a arrancar. Ouvi qualquer coisa e virei-me.
- Só mais um. – Prendeste-me de tal maneira que de tão presa me senti solta. Naquele segundo, o mundo era meu. E teu. Nosso, talvez. – Amo-te, e não te esqueças disso.
- Prometo que não esqueço, e tu não te esqueças que eu te amo a ti.
As lágrimas corriam à velocidade a que o autocarro andava, e a quantidade aumentava em proporção directa à distância. Comecei a sentir-me perdida de novo, e tudo o que conseguia era agarrar o teu fio e chorar. Aposto que, se contasse as lágrimas, seriam mesmo assim em número inferior às inúmeras memórias que criei contigo."
Moi même, in A noite
I dreamed I was at home, it was launch time and my mom wasn’t home yet. I had a glass in my hand when my mom arrived saying “I heard there was an car accident, some boys a few miles from here. Someone told me that the one who got worse is a 18 or 19 years-old black guy.” I drop the glass and my mom started yelling at me. I ran to my room and I started calling him. Nothing. No phone, no msn, no facebook, nothing… I called everyone, no one knew anything. I even called his ex-girlfriend. I told my mom and she drove me to his house. His brother opened the door, and I asked “Where is your brother??” I was completely freaked out. He ended up talking about the accident and that he didn’t make it. At that moment I frizzed and started crying. I asked where he was and his brother told me they took him to the hospital and that their mom was arranging the funeral. I spent the whole night at the mortuary, I was forceless but I couldn’t leave. The next day was the funeral. There was a crowd and only thing I did was cry, I couldn’t stop. In the end, before they buried him, they asked if someone want them to open the coffin one last time. His mom said yes and she was there for a while. I was there too and when she left I tried to stop crying. I hold his hand and I started remembering every single moment we spent together. I was just wondering “Why?” and thinking I didn’t had enough time with him. I took a deep breath, held his hand tight, I closed my eyes and kissing. And the last tear felt into his face, when I said “I love you”.
Then, I woke up crying."
- September 5th, 2010
