I take a deep, very deep breath, inflate my chest until the lungs collide with the ribs and push them up, raising the sternum to the climactic point of apnea, which I hold for two seconds. I gently expel the air, letting it brush my throat, caress my tongue, vibrate my lips.
Now that being so close I can almost breathe the air you breathe, now that each corner is a curtain behind which to discover you, now that the distance no longer prevents you from hearing my screams, and that each bus, each traffic light and each street is a meeting stage …
I walk the avenues and I cross the streets and I think that you are every girl with straight brown hair who walks in front, I cross the parks I walk among their trees and I think that you are every girl reading on a bench. But it’s not you.
And I have learned that I will not find you until I stop looking for you, because special moments are not planned or predicted, but happen when you least expect them, in places where it never occurred to you to pass.
I know that it will happen and I know that Madrid is not bigger than my hope, nor its buildings taller than my wish. From Pozuelo to Coslada and from Alcobendas to Getafe I will continue walking, waiting for the moment when I hear small and silent steps behind me and without having to turn I know that you have found me.
Meanwhile, I will tread hard as if trying to leave the traces of my shadow stuck on the sidewalk, as if wanting to leave an invisible record of my passage, as if pointing out the place where my path crossed yours, as if I wanted to leave my mark on you. footsteps so that by following them you know where to find me.
‘You are my favorite corner of Madrid’
Today my song is: ‘Madrid’ Sloth
