Forty years. Sunday

Can we play?

I start, put my hand on yours, then you put your other hand on, my hand on, your hand on, my hand on, your hand on... Faster!

We end laughing a lot and rolling on the floor. The blanket is a mess. My bones and my stomach ache.

Look! There's a plane! Where is it going? We should go on a trip someday.

Look! There's a boat! Where is it going? It seems slower, maybe we should go by plane.

Where to? To the jungle of course! See the animals, living adventures, sleeping under the stars, running, jumping, swimming with the crocodriles...

You are a fool! We can't do that with my wheel chair.

Give me your hand and I will draw something, then you have to guess what it is.

It's the sun?  No.         It's a flower? Yes!

Now I will write a word.

I

L
o
v
e

Y
o
u

That's more than a word! There are three!

We look at each other and up to the sky again. Laying on the sand.

We are like this since childhood, we do this every sunday since forty years ago, it's time to grow up a little, don't you think?

But I prefer this, I can't stop myself when I'm with you because my boy, inside of me, is looking for the girl inside of you, and she's so clear in your eyes while smiling...

I have wrinkles now and if I smile there are a million more, and I'm trembling, she isn't here anymore.

No, you are wrong, we both are trembling because we love each other, she is everywhere, even more beautiful when we play on sunday.

The sunset. So warm in your arms.

Madly jealous

I feel that I can break myself, tear apart my mind thinking about all the things you'd never do to me.

Hurting, remembering, regreting... My heart aches, my dried throat doesn't let me breath any more or scream out your name, my pain.

I want to stop this jealousy turning me crazy, to be composed, keep in calm and be a perfect lady.

Seriously, I have never been a lady. 
May I learn how to deal with these feelings? May I be polite and just be confident? Not about you but about myself.

Sometimes, when I see you talking to another woman, even if she's a friend of mine, I feel so nervous and anxious, happy because you are having a good time with my friends and everybody talks about you like if have to be proud or I didn't know who am I dating, they are praising you and when that happens, if it's repetitive I think " Maybe she likes him... Can it be? He is so warm and sweet... He is shy, very shy! But that's adorable in it's way"

Then "I'm lucky"

I look at you thinking about those words, your acts, your ways and you seem so cool to me.

But this time I can't get rid of the frustration, feel down and I miss you because you talk to her in a public place like you talk to me, even more expressive than with me, like if you were in a close relationship, in contact or she was someone you really admire or like.
Do you need to be on the right side of her or prolonge the conversation you two are having?
You know that hurts me and you just talk more and more friendly her even you say she's not.
Ha!

You never talk to others like that and it is scary.

Maybe I'm over thinking it, it was that way, you liked her and in your eyes she looks perfect and nothing, anything you tell me, can change that feeling. Anything.
A beautiful, smart, polite and grown woman, a lady.

You chose me, you're with me but you don't look at me anymore with naive tenderness.

It must be tiring to be with me. A continuous fight. The war in the love. Sometimes love can kill and I feel that I'm killing you, your beautiful you, dragging you into my hell.
You were the perfect boy, I turn you into a torn apart man.
But in those few lines you seem different, like excited.

You are not the same too, you hurt me too but you never betrayed me, so I must only be waiting for it, since the begining.

Una mañana de mascletá

Cenizas vuelan en el cielo azul de Marzo, las calles se impregnan del constante olor de la pólvora y los suelos de Valencia rugen y vibran al son de un tambor que no suena sino truena.

La gente se agolpa en la plaza, primero esperan apostados cual guardián de palacio reservando su sitio, ocultan sus pies bajo cáscaras y latas, los ojos a buen recaudo bajo cristales oscuros, brazos al aire y chaquetas-cinturón.

Luego, conforme pasa la media la manilla del reloj, se impacienta y silban, cantan himnos todos a coro.

Todos se sobresaltan con el ansiado primer aviso, seguido de más silbidos y cánticos, el ambiente se caldea a cada momento.

PUM! Segundo aviso, los minutos previos a unos se les hacen eternos mientras que para otros parecen volar.

Entonces, un magnífico y único espectáculo nos pone en pie, las miradas se clavan en las columnas de humo y color que marcan el cielo trueno tras trueno, bomba a bomba.
Los pájaros huyen alborotados y sólo se oye la música del pirotécnico, su obra maestra por fin es escuchada.

Son cinco minutos de pura atención.
Conforme se acerca el apoteósico final, la plaza vibra y la gente salta emocionada disfrutando de cada nota, las sonrisas y la emoción se dibujan en las caras expectantes de quien no quiere sentir que es el final y de quien espera el gran estruendo que marcará el último redoble.

Al acabar,  por un segundo se puede escuchar como el público toma aire y rompe en gritos y aplausos alabando la maestría del artista.

Unos se agolpan intentando acercarse al balcón y los pirotécnico. Los demás buscan la salida más rápida. Empujones, tirones, pisotones y embotellamientos, pero en la fiesta nadie se enfada cuando lo único que se quiere es ser el primero en alcanzar la meta.

Quizás alguien lance una crítica o incluso recrimine el comportamiento animal de la estampida pero en el fondo todos sabemos a lo que vamos, así que poco podemos reprochar de las actitudes ajenas cuando en el fondo se nos pasa por la cabeza hacer lo mismo o seguir el camino que ellos han despejado.

Las falleras y falleros se emocionan, lloran de alegría y disfrutan con la ilusión de un niño de estos pocos días de fiesta que marcan el carácter valenciano, nutriendo las venas de los espectadores de pólvora y mistela.

Mañanas para las que en unos días, tendremos que esperar un año pero mientras tanto, disfrutemos del legado más intenso de Valencia.