Monday, June 6, 2011
I just sat there, picking at my food, wine untouched. It was another despedida, the fourth one this month. We could barely fill the same table we usually occupy. I always knew it would come to this. We often spoke of going back someday.
The ones leaving have a peaceful aura about them. Well, who wouldn't? They were finally going home. The others shared a wistful look. Soon, it will be their turn. Sensing the absence of longing in me, a couple asked when I intend to go back. I just shrugged and smiled.
I downed my drink and looked at my friends, my extended family these past years. It pains me not to be able to tell them. About my partner. That he is from here. And that I am home.
photo from here