sábado, 13 de septiembre de 2014

De blog a blog...

El mar

We had a running joke between us that went something like this -- 

"I want a boat. Actually, I want to be a boat and go all over the world." 

And he would say, "If you are a boat than I will be the wind so I can go with you."

"Maybe I want to be the ocean so I can touch every continent. I want to reflect light and shake hands with the sandy shores." 

"If you are the ocean, then I will be the sky." 

And this is how we were. Night and day. Water and sky. It was a love affair with adventure and a passion for language. It was like getting warm sheets out of the dryer and holding them until they cooled. 

It lasted only as long as I was in love with Spain but it was long enough, or maybe it was too short. 
Sometimes when I am about to fall asleep or when I am driving down a country road the old memories blur the edges of my thinking. 

They whisper the Spanish phrases I learned but maybe forgot. They dance before me in scenes and memories. A long walk on the beach at sunset. A rambling conversation with an old man at a bus stop. A night out on the town. Stumbling through the words to get to the real meanings. A small lonely bed. Dreams as big as the ocean.

"You can't be the ocean," a person in my life at that time kept saying when we would talk. "That is ridiculous."

But my Spanish friend always told me I could be whatever I wanted and I loved him for that. 

An ocean away and the closest we can get now is just a memory or a quick e-mail. The love affair was ended before it started so there isn't much to mourn. But my heart hasn't forgotten the pure allowance of fancy and whimsy. 

"I want to be the ocean." 
"And I want to be the sky." 

Atreverse / to dare