Dear M.,
I am going on trips quite often. It’s nice to travel, to see new places, different people, each one unique in their way, but still similar.
People chat everywhere, gather everywhere, smile, laugh, cry and love. People express their emotions, the same emotions everywhere…
The streets might be different, the way people eat can be different—some use forks, some use their hands…, but all have the same feelings: the colours of the paintings might be different, but a laughter remains a laughter and ‘sodade’ feels the same – empty.
Anyway, what’s really interesting is how minor things manage to awaken my childhood memories and bring the scenes back in front of my eyes as if they had happened just a day ago. These memories are like grey snowflakes for me… They shift the emotions I experienced while living them, transforming the innocence of watching snowflakes fall from the sky into a dark shadow that cover my heart.
The other day, I saw a building with glass bricks and I remembered how much you liked the idea of having the light inside the house and that’s why you built one such wall on the porch… The light was coming inside, diffusing through those greenish bricks. They were not the best, but they were the only ones one could find back then. I liked so much that idea of having the sunlight through glass bricks, but now, I can’t say I dislike it, just I couldn’t have inside my house another wall like this…
because it hurts, everything that can be related to your absence hurts…
