The person I had great convos with 16 years ago, and 23 years ago, and like 13 years ago too… the person who introduced me to Henry Miller as a birthday present saying “I haven’t slept for three nights”, through a handful of compiled aphorisms, photocopied, underlined and annotated with such remarks as “no a la ordinariez”; the person whose birthday I remember better than my mom’s and sisters’; the person with whom I grew up, since 10, falling in love with The Beatles (but who passionately hated Charly García); the person who taught me how to bully, claiming that destroying self-esteem was formative for your character; the person who unapologetically laughed at elders because “when we’re old, kids will laugh at us”; the person who quoted Bart Simpson saying: “¿cuántas veces te he dicho que no le hagas caso a tu mamá?”; the person with whom I looked at the night sky in the park of the residential; the person who saw me cry my first heartbreaks; the person I feared losing more than anyone when I was 17; the person with whom we proudly claimed to be one and the same instead of two… I’d be his first topic of convo with every girl he met and I’d do the same when I had the chance and the courage to actually talk to a girl; the only man whose lips I’ve kissed and who may well have taught me how to kiss so I wouldn’t mess up with my first girlfriend; the person who hated me madly when I got into magick and started boasting like an idiot, and even more so when I decided to stop partying and quit booze; the person over whom I cried for six months after that fight; the painter who created “El Buda Pijao”, which inspired a character in my first published story; the painter who missed the release event of my first book, but sent a beautiful inbox from Germany, months later, after having finished the book (that was the first message in years), saying things like: “my girlfriend says she knew it would be cranky”…
That person turns 35 today and I can’t remember how long ago we had our last great convo… I wrote my first birthday message to him in like forever, saying: How many are they? 35? Tight hug, gotta see each other soon….. Then, about bursting into tears, I realized that man was the first love of my life, and what I really wanted to say was: every inch of me still loves you deeply. I also realized I don’t talk like this about almost any ex-girlfriend because in so called “love” you worry so much about sex and control that you kill friendship…