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And or not I was the first in your life, take it from someone who could not handle it. We were lovers for several years, she was one of those that do not require anything of which you never obtrusive. He was always ready to receive my caresses and live with me now. I did not intend to change, and never produced expectations. I accepted as I am and always was with me in tears and joys.

was my friend understood my feeling and I waited in silence. With a light touch I knew if I was sad, or had reached cheerful, never complained about anything and be satisfied with such a little thing: just a few strokes ....... just the touch of my fingers.

never managed to get the better of her, but gave no pains and sorrows, and never felt so alive as in those times when you were with another of his loves. Him if he knew how to love her, laughed and sang together. Cried with me always, and now I can sing joy, is no longer at my side.

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REQUIEM FOR A LOVER OF LIFE AND OTHER PHILOSOPHY DIGRECIONES

And or seek my own formula for life, convinced that this formula is different for everyone, and not universal as the mold that aims to sell postmodernity. The group expects (and in some cases required) to fit me so transient that sense the "right thing" with the single argument of "because it has to be" lex dura lex which is to undergo if he want to integrated into the fold. Irritates me that people stand to impose their clichés and conventions, based on his personal concept of yin yang, and Zarathustra said: "I've traveled around the world and have not found words more powerful than good and evil." How submission can be imposed on men with this pair of vipers!

Surely those who often burn incense to all the relics of the shrine of the established, condemn me to die at the stake for my terrible daring to be "different" and the exoticism of trying to describe so insolently the "invisible emanations of my soul ". And, while I look more different, more horror because they realize what they're identical. It's that and nothing else, what has made me a loner some romantics who pejoratively called "playboy of memories, fantasies and dreams", and others with less poetry and charm, called "misfit."

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FOR A DREAM WAS INEVITABLE LOVE HIM

Suffering Syndrome "todolopuedo" had, at an early age and loneliness, my first trip to USA. Nine o'clock in the morning when Carmen, hotel waitress, came to my room to clean the site. Shyly confessed my countrywoman, she told me that he had "papers", which was licensed in administration but who worked day hotel and dinner in a factory. Carmen's life in the gay Miami could be described in three words: sad, lonely and narrow. His face pale, gaunt and bony, revealed the pain that caused the distance and absence. In a gesture of solidarity I asked him every time I came to do the cleaning, take what he wanted from the mini-fridge that was in my room. She whole-heartedly thanked my offer, but never take anything. All I could do for her was to bring upon my return, any commission to their parents, who come to bring a beautiful friendship.

Several times I visited my compatriot in Florida, taking him from his family letters, to a box with your favorite fried chicken. Carmen made great efforts to learn the language, after years of living with the fear of being deported was welcomed an amnesty that allowed him legal residency, he studied while working, married to another wrestler like her, became a citizen, came to be manager of several hotels, and one day he returned to Guatemala to be with her in those old men who never forsook. Carmen did what seemed impossible, he made his biggest dream.

Since this keyboard I want to express my respect and admiration for Carmen and all those who, to paraphrase Coelho- "made the difficult Decision to leave for a dream, all they had obtained "

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A rowboat and Lake Amatitlán (on the outskirts of Guatemala City) witnessed our first appointment. (Great photo taken on the banks of the lake, by Villa Sams)

Q eu lovely, intelligent and I thought it detestable. We knew pretty woman, and behaved as such, her figure, totally irresistible, literally left me breathless, his face smooth and hair color of wheat, irritated me for being so beautiful, but they were those eyes, with his insolent eyes, which frightened me, something told me that if he did not care would be hopelessly trapped in them.

I confess: a closer look made me angry, but looked forward to when I use "the worst flea in order not to deny that pleasure to my eyes. Without noticing me paying careful attention to their movements, expressions and details: I noticed his shoes, accessories used in their garments, and especially in what was contained in them, I never understood why my fine and applied art Machiavellian conquest (indifference), if you still like it so much, would not anything with it. I did not like, that's the truth, and I write well, without any penalty.

One night in December and New Year I decided to try to survive, to find land after my wreck, allowing me to be happy again ...... and thought about her. I dared to approach: I called, we sometimes share our stories, hit it, I had a wonderful ...... I loved it because it was and not as I had imagined. The night we got engaged, rather than romantic we were honest about what we felt. His own, filled me with hope, I was beside him alive again, and kissing her, my heart came three words: "will inevitably love it."