cum am fost aşa rămânem:
marea şi cu râurile,
lumea cu pustiurile,
luna şi cu soarele,
codrul cu izvoarele.
eminescu was what i was reading when i got the message. we hadn’t spoken for a long time. i remember that one day in class when i was new and lost, and you sat next to me, a curly haired boy in uniform, a little taciturn, or so i thought. you shared your textbook with me, and the only bit of information from you that day was that miss silvia’s voice had been hoarse for five weeks going because she wouldn’t stop smoking her two packs of cigarettes despite of her cold. your eyes were dark, very, and kind. in the three months i spent in your hometown you and the rest made me feel liked and acccepted and included; i am very lucky to have been thrown by fate into this circle of friends. we haven’t spoken in a long time, but every once in a while i thought of you and your carita feliz, one of those faces inseperable from those memories i keep; always has been, always will be. it shook me to the core to when i heard you had decided to leave, and even more so when i learned how you made your exit. but i’m happy you’re free now, you’ve won your fight, and you left.
godspeed, d., godspeed.
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