Rocks by the bench

She walked with her hips leading the way and her shoulders cocked back and breasts out. She glided across the floor in a way that is difficult to reproduce. A way different than you or I walk; with our each step expressing some kind of a jostle in our shoulders. Not her. Each step was placed in such a way that nothing moved in her gait. If you didn’t look at her moving legs, you would have thought she was on a conveyor belt.

I sat that on the park with the sun watching her glide by and I froze. I froze because the sun was blinding my sunglass-less face. I froze because my stomach was still growling from a morning without breakfast. I froze because for the first time in years, my heart ached because of her.

It had been almost seven years since I last watched her glide away from me, bags in hand, on a trip away from my life. At the time, I couldn’t fathom how I was going to go on each day without watching her glide across the room. I couldn’t fathom how I was going to live without her placing her hand on her hips when she caught me pulling her leg. I couldn’t fathom how I was going to live without her kissing me on the corner of my right eye, between my temple.

There were stones around the bench and they screamed at my peripheral vision to notice them. It didn’t. I just stared.

She was older now. The sun and smoking had taken its toll on her skin. The regular running had produced a still amazing body, but now, I could see that she favored her right knee even more. Her wardrobe was upgraded significantly, but she still had the worst taste in shoes.

What would have made me smile now, really left me with no emotion. None.

I had often wondered what I would do if I ever ran into her again, in this city that is small enough to create such situations. Would I confront her and express all the hurt that she had caused? Would I spit in her face? No. Never. Would I hug her and give her thanks for leaving my life because, God knows, it was the best thing in the world? No.

I sat on my bench enjoying the sun. Her glide took her away and I didn’t even bother to have my eyes follow her down the street. I didn’t care. My eyes didn’t care. My heart, mi corazon, could care less.

Time past is an interesting thing. You only notice when it is put directly in front of you.

My time in the sun was long enough. I picked up a stone, put it in my pocket and went on my way. Today is going to be a good day.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo