It was a Valentine’s Day eve, no, no, it was already because it was well past midnight. I can’t imagine what Paquita would say about this day if they asked her why everyone lives marked by their own experiences and hers began at 16 marrying a man 30 years older, who left to continue his life, leaving two children along the way. and a second husband killed in action. And what would I say, close to 70 according to the baptism certificate, and recently in love? Nothing that is worth it because I suffered that mental mortgage a few times and each one was different depending on the age in which it was lived. My first love was Marisol, I confess, with whom I fell in love platonically at 10 when I saw her on screen, although it was not love but a certain admiring tingle; about Margaret at 15, an American who came home for a summer and tortured me with her indifference. already had another tone. I wish I had lived with her a Summer of 42 and it did not even reach a millennial love story. Then nothing was platonic anymore and if at 17 I fell seriously in love for the first time what followed until today was a (un) orderly succession of chemical reactions, a kind of obsessive-compulsive disorders with ladies, some of which ended in Weddings, only one with an ecclesial blessing as God intended, others with a Civil Registry, and some more without ecclesial or civil certification, even if there was coexistence.
I am not talking, of course, about those sporadic encounters that distract us all along the way, but about the times I was truly in love, the most with a happy ending because I separated or they threw me out and I was able to undertake the task again. I was and am, damn it, a worker of love, an acrobatic Cupid although I always admired the temperance and maturity of those who knew how to be happy with the same partner all their lives. I did not chastise, and a movement of feet under a table already in its sixties, from sexington to the Rolling Stone I prefer to say, ended in a crush that I hope lasts until the end of my days, I do not want to tempt God any more for the graces received. Don’t ask me about Valentine’s Day, Amor vincit omnia. Love conquers all.
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