Yesterday Sebas left.  Everytime it hurts a little bit less, the farewells I mean. Not because I’m suddenly made of stone, on the contrary, every time I become more permeable to love -To receive, without questioning-

But it always happens to me, that before wishing a friend to have good trip, I remember a flash that sometimes between pitches harasses me.

I call it the Backpack Sequence:

It would be this bag in which I could put whoever I want or make whoever I want a chocolate wrapped, as well as a butter toffee, affection toffee. And when I need – whatever it is – I need that little candy, I unwrap it and a tiny, really small person comes out – like, something made of clay – that climbs up on the left or right side of my shoulder and tells me, what my person of that moment would say to me while it surrounds my temple with its little hands (it does not quite reach to hold my full head, but it really tries).

But then, just before munching a plate of cold noodles with tomato sauce at two in the morning, I realize the selfishness and I remember that what I like most about people is that they do not need anyone to take them anywhere.

I finish my spliff and I take my backpack and put the empty envelopes of candy on the table. I make a collage.

It’s not #letitgo, it’s #recycle.

It’s learning Danish to see Ceci again, it’s using Jenny’s scarf everywhere and the bracelet that Nay gave me. Hold on my ankle every time I miss Delfina and listen to Gabo Ferro when Nacho tells me that he could give me some attention and then the time difference becomes in two days. Is to ask my old lady to send me a video of my dog ​​and I’d hug the pillow waiting for it to lick my face. It is making my list of places wider and wider.

I do not think that missing someone is a weakness. Write and shout that I’m missing. Traveling does not eliminate the problems, it makes you live with them in other intensities. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

Sometimes I ask myself five times a day what the fuck I’m doing, sometimes just one.

Taking advantage of people is to see other ways of coping with crises. When I am very lucky, I adapt their forms until them become my  own. The ways of survival become organic.

I do not believe in destiny. We met and it was beautiful point and apart. I did not take our merit, nobody wrote us the step by step of life.  We are in that, ellipses.

I do not look at the sky because I look for my loved ones and ask them for strength. I look at the sky because I look for the moon that shines and every so often it looks like someone I know. – It resembles in concept, now that I finished the noodles-. It’s more portable and lighter than carrying people on my back. Besides, I’m going to run out of health insurance, I have to take care of my lower back. And my will of still going on because I’m also about  to run out of cash.

That’s why I thought about recycling, people can be like a cable to the ground or to the air -Depends-. The cities might have more or less skyscrapers, and anyway all look a bit like each other. The people, the people, not that much. The ones that I end up liking the most are the ones that recharge me «Keep going on, people are worth the kilometers»  Sure, and I’ll just keep on moving.

And I keep moving, more for the hello(Es)  than for the goodbyes, I’m not a martyr either.

I’m trying to learn how to wash the dishes and minimize the waste of water, as they do in it Brazil and then I go to bed, hugging the pillow, hoping to have funny dreams  about my dog just  ​​to see her a little while longer.

The thing is that yesterday I said «See you», again, convinced that I’m still honest. And then, the farewells every time hurt less.