31 days without him and counting. Her mind does it unconsciously,
every night she adds a mark in her wall. Each mark is for one less hug she
could´ve gotten, another memory that no matter how hard it tries time won´t
take away.
She keeps flying, only to hit the wall that keeps her from going
back to him every time the wings get bigger. That flight is a torture as well
as a gift, she savors the good moments with sweetness, but can´t avoid tasting
the sour flavor that the bad ones have.
And it seems it was yesterday when it rained, yesterday when they
lived the goodbye that their love story was determined to tell. It was moments
ago when he squeezed her hand reassuring that the ashes would never be carried
by the wind, even if the flames went out.
Every step she takes carries her father from that tale, but her
heart doesn´t anyone else come near it, it still belongs to him, and it has
built up a wall to keep anyone from going in.
Her mornings are a lament for having to walk without reaching his
arms, a moment of melancholy for watching the cars go by and not seeing his
face in the window.
Hours, days and weeks will go by and maybe the bricks that protect
her heart will fall down slowly, but marks will keep being added in the wall
next to her bed. And who knows, maybe a smile once in a while.
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