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
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