It would have made much more sense to get less sleep during the day today so that I wouldn't be up at this point in the night writing this, the reflection on the past few hours of sleeplessness and thought. S just came back from the trip she took to London with the students and the teachers from the Real Colegio Alfonso el XII, where she works as a language auxiliary teaching both students and teachers the wonders of the modern English language. The truth is that we don't get to see nearly as much of each other as we used to, being that we lived in the same apartment in Boulder for over a year. I cannot say that it has really been much for how we are relating to eachother lately. I am losing touch with the girl that I love, slowly, with each day that I spend in a tiny bed in Madrid and that she spends in a tiny bed in San Lorenzo de El Escorial.



This was the answer I had, close the book that I had started so long ago. I was hooked on the memory of the time that past between Agust of 2002 and May of 2003, and it seemed as if everything had pointed to my finally being able to walk through the door, with S, closing it behind me and leaving all the insecurities of that period behind. Now, I am forced to ask myself whether I have made a mistake and let someone that means so much to me get too far away. Her words are very reassuring, they give me hope: her actions are cause for concern, they seemed to have cooled with the Spanish air. 5 months here and five months remain. They have the possibility of being five months of near bliss, spending time with my love, but they too, have the possibility of being a natural pergatory. I do not believe, or at least do not want to believe that the latter is a true possibility.



One phrase, to (was to) be uttered in a restaurant in Rome, (was to be) really, the asnwer.