last memories of first love

It is now 22 years, and am slowly losing the details of those days where I discovered the anguish of living.

Now I know that everything lived then, and all lived then have the common thread of resentment by the defeats.

it was a time when I kept in my memory the events of that day, every smile, every chance encounter … .all the little things that made history was inching its denouement But those are ghosts were already dying. slowly; I killed them because without realizing it, I turned my life to pay each and every one of the pending bills considered were due me.

It was during a course at the institute, the last of them. I was 19, I was two years older than the rest of my classmates that had failed to other studies that I had to leave. So I felt: a failure who is in exile, someone to have left no place in the station while others have come up with their seat on the train of life

. I tried to focus on their studies, and I did well at first … until she appeared.

It was a first-year girl, I should not have turned 15 yet, and his class was right before mine in the same corridor.

At each break between classes out into the hallway, she was cheerful, flirtatious and playful. It was the most outgoing and soon was surrounded by some more timid companions who followed her everywhere.

She was tall, friendly, somewhat ungainly, with slightly sleepy expression, his voice shrill remember something, female, though. There was a beauty, however radiating its heat and insolent youth, and that, to me, than my 19 years and I felt like an old man who observes the life of others, could not happen unnoticed. It was the girl of success in Class 1&° B.

I fell in love.

When I got up in the morning just thinking about how I could exchange a few words with Carmen.

When I went to bed at night, reliving over and over what happened. I analyzed my mistakes and how my shyness had scuppered any particular conversation.

I was sure that soon she would start out with any guy, possibly some spunky confident beside which I would have nothing to do.

It had been several months since the first war of chalk in the corridor of the institute in October … .the spring had swept everything, and the end of the course threatened to leave me with her forever.

I do not know anything more than I tell her everything. I wrote it in a letter and not regretted it when one of his followers gave me a message that was just a friend. If he had not, perhaps now would be cursing my cowardice.

I snap the shot.

It was hard to live with it. Walking down the street looking hungrily when I seemed to see her in the crowd. One day, another … .a month, and another ….

We bet everything out of everything. He needed to go away, do what I could have ever imagined.

But others could, and my bitterness gave me strength. If he fell short I was going to lose.

So I got it. I would go further, discover a new world. Should have value.

And that’s when fate gave me the opportunity to say goodbye to the ghost that had followed me for three long years.

He had stayed with friends in this bustling bars. There was little for my departure, I had changed and it showed me. It was not the same, he had fought and had won my first battle. Fear no longer peered into my eyes.

And then I heard his voice calling me, I was in the street with some people but not even looked; wearing a purple dress and gave me two kisses. It was nice …. radiant as ever and I proposed to go with her to a birthday or something.

I just looked, said hello, I said hello and told her the truth: I had been and were waiting

. I did not turn around to leave. Behind her, they were most of my ghosts.

Sometimes I saw her in the old town, at night, in the bars. Never we crossed a word. We did as we had not seen.

Its decline was rapid, never saw his spark again.

Now I know that my ghosts were eating. It was now theirs.

Hopefully someday got rid of them and leave them with someone worthy of its load.

Good luck, Carmen.