Soulmates Never Die

In my dream, we were in the backseat of a bus.
We were side by side, so close together. 
The sun's rays illuminated your face. 
I could see your eyes as I had never seen them.

I realized that you had one small and fake eye.
(Now, I analyze why it happened and it makes me realize that a few nights earlier I saw The Big Short and that perhaps your small and fake eye was a subliminal residue of the character performed by Christian Bale. 
Isn't it funny?) 

Also, for the very first time, I realized the color of your eyes.
It surprised me and I couldn't stop thinking of your brownish eyes. 

You talked with a great enthusiasm, though your face reflected sadness. 
As you talked, I began to remember when we met.
I also began to remember how much I liked you and how many times did I dream of kiss you and get laid with you. It also made me think how many times did I try to avoid becoming a moron and hurt you. I was so afraid of being a dumbass and break your heart. 

We used to hang out between classes.
You were so pretty and fragile and you used to complain about men.
I heard every single word you said and I started to fall in love with you. 

At a moment, I began to write you letters and you began to respond them.
It was a really funny communication. It seemed that you wanted me to be more than a friend. I was really attracted to you. I couldn't stop thinking about your beauty. 
Your body was sexually attractive. It made me desire you. I wanted to touch you.

Once, as we spoke about Marcel Proust before a boring class, I couldn't ignore your breasts. It seemed that you were sort of cold, though we we're taking a sunbath on the grass of the backyard of the school. I accidentally saw your nipples and they drove me wild. 

For entire nights I closed my eyelids, just before I fall asleep, trying to recreate that beautiful image. It made me feel like a teenager discovering his own sexuality. I had innocent thoughts in which I could see them endlessly as I told you how pretty you were and how much I liked you and how much I desired you and how much I wanted to take care of you.

Once I told you –or wrote you on a letter, or both– how much I liked you and you blushed and you kept quiet. Then you said that you didn't want to suffer. 

You began to call me on the telephone.
Each day, it seemed so obvious that you were more and more interested on me. 
Though each day I liked you more than the previous day, I was so stupid and so afraid to hurt you that I just didn't dare to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend. 

I met another woman, I made her my girlfriend and we stopped talking. 
At the end, I hurt you and I felt so stupid. My girlfriend was so jealous about you. 
I'm not sure, but I guess she gave you a nickname related to your big breasts. 
She said, contemptuously, that you had huge breasts. 
It seemed that you didn't like her neither. When we had a few minutes to speak between classes, you referred to her as the monkey-girl. You said she seemed so mad and that she gave you violent and hostile looks, each time you crossed on the hallways of the school.

Years later, you called me on the telephone. 
By then, the monkey-girl was happily married (to another guy) and I felt sad, betrayed and lonely.
Somehow, I sensed thru your voice that you felt the same way I felt. 
I sensed that we were like soulmates. We met on a coffee shop. 

When we saw each other, after a long time, in the parking lot of that coffee shop, you gave me a very effusive hug. I felt your huge breasts upon on me and I felt so excited. Then you kissed me on the cheek. It was also so effusive. 
The entire scene was so intense that a moron passing by told us something like "Get a room!" and you, ironically, yelled him "Do you want me to kiss you, too?" 

Inside the coffee shop you sat in front of me.
At a time, as I told you how I felt and how happy I was of being with you and how beautiful you looked and how much did I miss you, you held my hand over the table. It felt so electrical. Then you smiled and you said: 

“If you keep acting like this, definitely I could fall in love with you”

We said Good bye in the same intense way we said Hello. 

Days later, we went to a movie theatre. 
You invited me to watch a movie and you even bought popcorns. 
I don't remember what was the movie about. 
I just remember the touch of your hands, when our hands accidentally coincided on the popcorn bucket. It was a pretty sexual moment. 
I just remember you by my side. We were so close together. 
You had your hair tied up and suddenly you let it go. You gave me a glimpse. The light of the screen illuminated your face. You said: 

“Maybe I will I give you a surprise” 

And it was silly –how in the hell could it be a surprise, if you were talking me about it!–, but it was also a pretty sexual moment. I still remember the way you sort of licked your lips for a second after you said that spell. 

I felt so dumbfounded and then I asked you for a photograph –photographs were not as common as they are now– and you smiled and asked me if I wanted you to give me a photograph with you wearing a thong. 

I felt so excited. What the hell did you just say? Did I hear it correctly?
We returned to your car in another parking lot and you began to talk about a party. You wanted me to go with you. You promised me to drink tequila and “get wild”. 

You challenged me: 

“You don't know what kind of woman I am when I am drunk!”

Then you began to talk about the guys you used to see in this kind of parties. 
Apparently, you hated them and you were fresh meat for them, or something like that. 

Though your signals were so obvious, though I was so excited, I declined your invitation. 

Now, I sporadically dream about you and I wonder what's have been up of your life. 

Sleeping With Ghosts

Burn The Witch, The Witch Is Dead

It was the first day of classes of the year.

The university was really alive. 

They were dozens of students walking through the hallways.

I was in my small office, working on the last details of the class I was going to teach. 

I was just about to leave the office when I remembered that I needed an Epson projector. 

Then I walked, with my entire heavy bag, to the office of the Department Chief to asked her for the projector as I had done previously.

To be certain that it would not be a waste of time, I looked thru the window of her office and I saw she was there.

I found you on my way to the office.

We said Hi and it seemed that we were pretty familiar, though it had elapsed almost five years since the last time we had spoken.

You looked just as I remember you. 

Dunno why I felt so attracted to you. 

It seemed that we had had some sort of close relationship and that we were really god friends. We had some sort of trust that made me feel so comfortable.

I looked right into your eyes.

You had a witch glimpse. 

You looked like a witch. 
I was so surprised. I barely remember that you looked like a witch. 

I began to think in the witch of The Wizard of Oz. 
Somehow, you looked like Eva Green. 

I looked down and I saw your breasts. 
I began to think about your huge breasts.
They looked so warm. 

Back then, when I was a postgraduate student and my advisor forced us to have with him the last dinner of the year, we got sort of drunk. 

At the end of the dinner, as everyone was saying Good bye, we coincided in the room where we cleaned up every single glass equipment we employed on the lab. 

You were drunker than myself. 
I found you pretty attractive, washing a couple of glass cups. 

I was about to clean up my own glass cup. 

You saw me and smiled. 

I found you particularly nice to me. 

At a moment, I even thought you were making me a proposal and I realized that I had always felt sexually attracted to you and that I always wanted to touch your breasts. 

For a moment, I wondered how would it be to kiss you. 

In my dream, I stopped thinking about this memory, when I heard your voice on our way to the office of the Department Chief.

You spoke about your last paper and I told you that I knew about it because I had spoken with one of your pupils.

You asked me if I knew the details of the paper and I said No.

I sensed a vague feeling of disappointment in your face and I abruptly changed the subject.

I asked you about your daughter.

I realized that just a seconds before, you had told me that she was so big and I felt so dumb. 
I just had repeated a subject and it seemed that I wasn't listening to you. 

I sensed the same vague disappointment in your face. 

I just wanted to say that it might be cool to collaborate together, in an academic way. 

I just wanted to tell you so many things. 

I just wanted to tell you how difficult it was to prepare a bunch of classes from zero and to teach them and to have academic meetings once or twice per week...

I just wanted to tell you how demanding it was to coordinate collaborations here and there and to travel to Mexico City and to Juriquilla once or twice per month and to pretend to have time to write my own manuscripts and to perform my own research... but I felt so irresponsable and guilty.

We finally arrived to the office. 

The Department Chief was surrounded by dozens of pupils. 
It seemed that they were having troubles at attempting to built some sort of robot. 
The office also seemed a kindergarden.

She immediately gave me the Epson projector. It seemed more a tool box than anything. The box was yellow and it had a big thing that I employed to lift it up on my shoulder.

You did not stop talking and I knew my class was running by. 
Each second I felt more and more secretly attracted to you. 
At the end you introduced me to your lover. 
She was also a researcher and you kissed in front of me. 
I felt so dumbfounded and I woke up.

Why did I have this dream?

I suppose it's the first time I dream about you. 

Softer, Softest

Can't Let You Roam Inside My Head

I met you almost fifteen years ago in a literary workshop.

You started to read a poem. 

It was about a woman and a man having an affair. 
She was on her knees and the scene described her in a position on which she was about to give him some sort of pleasure. The man was on his feet, looking at her breasts. 

For days I couldn't get rid of your poem.

The image persisted in my mind. 

It followed me day and night.

I thought it was a poem about you and me.
I could not stop thinking about you on your knees.
I could not stop thinking about you a seconds away from giving me pleasure.

I wondered, on my darker moments, when I was so exhausted of being lonely, about to close my eyes, what kind of pleasure would you give to me.

Once we went to a party. 

It was December. A few days before my birthday. It was cold. 

It was on a big house with fancy walls made of red bricks. 

We sort of slept in a couch. 

We were drunk. Another guy from the literary workshop was in the same couch with us.
He had a crush on you. 

As I closed my eyes and I sensed you by my side, trying to get some sleep in that awkward position on the couch, I remembered your poem. 

Instead of thinking about you on your knees, the first thing that came to my mind was your breast. 

So far, I hadn't thought of them.
Dunno why I thought your boobs were a couple of tiny pears.

In the morning, as we left the house and moved to our own places, we took a bus and the subway. 

You told me that you had noticed that I could not stop watching your breast since you had read that cursed poem. You were convinced of it.

I told you it wasn't true at all. 

Days later, on my birthday, I invited you to a party.
We slipped from people and you told me that you desired me. 
We had a strange thing. 

It was sad. I felt so abusive. 

No matter what, you insisted to repeat the experience.

The second time, it happened on January.
That day we had been drinking on nasty places. 

I just dreamed about you. 
I haven't seen you for almost fifteen years. 

In my dream, we were on an academic meeting, in a round table. 
You spoke about the possibilities of your career. 
You said that a person studying Literature could get a job as an economist and crazy non sense things. 

Then we took a bus. 

It seemed Ciudad Universitaria. 

I felt so sexually attracted to you. 

You wore a black and white turtle neck stripped sweater. 
It made your breasts looked so clear. They seemed a small pair of shy fruits.

You were by the exit door of the bus, about to walk out. I was by your side and we said good bye and we were about to do it kissing our cheeks. 

We accidentally kissed in the mouth. 

Your lips felted like velvetine. 

It excited me. 

I felt guity. 

In my dream, I had a girlfriend and she was on the bus, too. Obviously, I didn't want that she notice that we had just an accidental kiss. 

I felt guilty and excited at the same time.

You smiled and I couldn't stop thinking about your breast. 

Why did I dream of you?

Sometimes, dreams are so meaningless. 

Sometimes, they're not. 

La La Love You

I will always think of you be associated In my dream, we were about to have our bachelor's degree examination and so we were practicing in front of a class.

The classroom was one in which we actually did it, almost fifteen years ago.

It was located in the third floor of the main building of the school. 

Instead of having a visually impactating presentation, as we really did it, we got some sort of poster. 

Some pupils helped you out to hang the poster on a wall. As you did so, I felt nervous. It seemed none of you was aware of the importance of that poster and then it looked like you would break it anytime. 

Then the professor who was giving us time of his class, asked us to start rehearsing.

Before his petition, you really seemed so selfconfident and you even behave as if I were an invisible meaningless moron. 

I decided to ask you to go along by yourself and you started to hesitate.

I wonder if you saw the real video of our bachelor's degree examination and if you, finally, came up to the conclusion that I was the one who spoke the most complicated issues of the thesis. 

She Screams In Silence

I was having dinner with my wife.
We we're around a table in a quiet and dark room.
It was cozy and painted in red and green.
The table had a stripped tablecloth on it.

(In some ways, it looked like the previous apparment on which we lived for five years.)

Somehow I knew that we were expecting you.

Suddenly, someone put the key in the door lock, made it spin and then opened the doorway.
It was you. You dressed exactly as the last time I saw you.

Somehow, you looked lighter than that last time.

You looked at us and walked to the table.
You said Hi and smiled to us.

Somehow you looked shy and insecure.

For a moment, we saw each other, face to face.
I wanted to be nice, but I was unable to smile.

I continued talking to my wife, but feeling terribly guilt.

You sat beside me in the table and said something nice about a picture of a cat that was hanging on the wall.

You said something like Cats are awesome.

I sensed you weren't comfortable at all.
All you wanted to do was to be nice with us.

It seemed that you were about to live with us.

In a way, it really excited me.
The chances to get along with you were so exciting.
But it also scared me.

I was afraid to falling in love with you.

At the time I had these thoughts, I secretly saw you.

You looked so fragile and pretty. 

Yesterday, I was thinking all day long to give you a call and say Hi.
I didn't. I'm not sure if I will.