The live background music attested to the delicacy of the restaurant. The constant bustle of spotlessly uniformed waiters was the result of attending to the especially demanding requests of customers that night.
At the tables, dozens of couples had a romantic evening, dressed in appropriate clothing for the occasion. Other tables were occupied by senior managers who were champagne-fed celebrating some recent success at their company.
But there was a table set aside next to a large window overlooking the night of the great city, where a beautiful woman in an elegant blue dress waited alone and absorbed for her companion to arrive.
His face conjugated sadness and hope, sadness for the delay of his expected, which took more than half an hour, and hope to think that he had not forgotten the special appointment of that day.
And that woman was you and that table was our table, in which I asked you to marry the witness stars and in which every year we renewed our promise of love. Yes, today is also May 19, but you know that your waiting is useless.
And while the minutes continue to pass, you ask the waiter for a drink, which you drain slowly, leaving the mark of your lips with each sip, pressing them hard against the delicate glass.
Then the complex mechanism of your imagination starts up, conditioned by all the pain you’ve endured over the last few months, and that’s when you finally see me walk through the door with a bouquet of white roses in one hand and my briefcase in my hand. another jogging because I know I’m late.
And you look up and walk with me the way from the door to the table where you are still waiting, but no longer sad because you think that the delay was due to some just cause, and you smile and your eyes light up.
But when I finally find myself a few meters from you, you see how my figure vanishes like fog until it disappears. You look around you desperately looking for me, but you only find the looks of pity and compassion from the people at the closest tables.
It is at that moment that you regain lucidity and come face to face with reality. An immense sadness floods you, your mind collapses and tears of pure pain begin to come out, that you cannot control, that you do not want to control.
And you know that another crisis is going to enter you but you don’t want to take the pills out of your bag because you think that all they do is postpone and increase the suffering that one day you will have to face to make it stop permanently.
But you are not yet ready for that encounter and your heart suffers with the increased anxiety and causes you to pass out as you try to reach the exit door.
And totally unconscious, you are transferred by ambulance to the San Javier hospital, where you will remain sedated and under observation for the next few days, receiving psychological help. In that same hospital where they could no longer do anything for me, the same one where we said goodbye for good eight years ago.
‘She said goodbye to her love, he left on a boat at the dock of San Blas.
He swore that he would return and, drenched in tears, she swore that she would wait …
She was wearing the same dress in case he returned she would not be wrong.