Prologue

Morning run:
Sometimes I feel your presence,
Sometimes I feel your absence,
Sometimes I feel nothing.
I don’t know what hurts the most.

San Miguel, September 2020

Mexico, February 2020

6:27 am Morning run. It’s dark outside. The streets are quiet, the sky is deep purple. The moon is not full and seems to smile at me.

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
All the saints we see
Are all made of gold
–
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale

“Demons” by Imagine dragons is playing in my headphones. And, I am running back and forth on Orizaba Street, like a mad woman.
A taxi driver is washing his green car with a rag, he dips into an old bucket of paint. A short woman in uniform walks with determination, holding a twigs-broom on her shoulders. I believe she is on her way to work.

I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There’s nowhere we can hide

I pass a school girl, in her uniform too. High white socks, a heavy school bag and a woolen hat pulled over her head. The air is cold but I’m hot.

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide
Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

Four years later, my rage is intact. Life has taken me to Mexico. San Antonio is the name of my neighborhood, in San Miguel de Allende. I’m running on that short strip of smooth cobblestones. I can’t seem to take off but only to crash. My world has collapsed, my soul is torn apart and I don’t know how to go on living. I want to scream. I run to reset. I run to shut down my unwanted thoughts but, you are on my mind. I feel your pain.

A German Shepard barks at me every time I run under his balcony, his head out, through the wrought iron grilles. In an adjacent street, I see a silent shadow passing by; the shadow of a man on a bicycle, holding half a dozen of leashes. He is the dog walker.

Don’t want to let you down
But I am hellbound
Though this is all for you
Don’t want to hide the truth

6:55 am The darkness is slowly fading away. La tienda de Dona Rosa ¹ is opening. A couple of customers are already waiting. I didn’t see in a while, the old lady dusting off the street, in her night dress.
I end my run breathless. I completed four laps on Orizaba. It is not much. My soul is still crying but I relieved my body and, my mind is calmer. I walk home. Paloma is greeting me at the gate, wagging her tail. We climb the stairs to the rooftop.
A gentle light is skimming the city. A hot air balloon is witnessing San Miguel wakening. Birds are conversing in a loud cacophony. Mosquitoes are still on their operating hours. A couple of humming birds are foraging in the cactus flowers. The roosters seem to be the last ones to wake up.

Sunrise. Sunset. Another sunrise. Four years have passed. Four years of trying to make sense of what has happened. I wonder if you watched the sun rising before you took your life. Or, maybe it was the sun setting. Were you inhabited too, by this abyssal vacuity that fills me and, asking yourself: what am I doing here?
I wonder what was your last thought or, your last feeling. Maybe there were no more thoughts or feelings, only that pain. That pain and that certainty that you don’t belong here, that the world is not fair. You said that often: “It’s not fair”. You were wondering where do you belong to. You were tired of fighting. There seemed no place for you, where you could be you. You pulled the trigger. Your fight is over, you passed it on to those who love you.

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[1] “Madam Rosa’s shop” in Spanish.