[February 2008. Quilmes, Buenos Aires.]
Some of my sweetest dreams, are those in which you are there with me.
Once I wrote, "She cried in her room for a few minutes. She imagined he was there, though she was alone. She spoke out loud, she told him everything she needed to say a long (really long) time ago. She could even hear the answers, feel his hand holding hers, and as the tears bitterly fell down her cheeks, she knew it was not worth to keep killing herself in thoughts. What for? In her dreams, she always wins." under the title of "Monologue". Even though I told you all of that, even though I heard the answers (and at the moment I couldn't understand them, but now I see that they were okay), even though your hand held mine for a few minutes and for and eternity, I still feel the same. I know in my dreams I win the same battle everyday.