I talked to you tonight. You said you were taking your mother to El Zocalo, because they had erected a giant ice skating rink across from the National Palace. I felt a deep ache in my heart that I could not go with you. I have never been ice skating before, and I wish that my first time on ice skates would be with you, tonight, in Zocalo. Like some bad movie, I would skate horribly, probably falling down repeatedly. You would reach for my hand and pull me up, laughing all the while. I can almost smell the city from where I sit right now. It's the smell of ancient spirits, fresh flowers, and the carnitas of the taquerias. I miss everything about the city, especially you. I miss the freedom of being able to live life unhindered and with passion. Here, I feel so limited and....not myself. Maybe, one day I will put on a pair of ice skates and swirl in circles underneath the giant flag of your country--the place that my heart has grown to love and miss.
No comments:
Post a Comment