Night Shift - J.P.F.
me voy a argentina en abril...que, te vienes o no?
I don't remember the first time I talk with you, but I don't care that much. We became friends while you thought me how to work the night shift. The age difference could have been the one between father and son, but you already had a son and a daughter, and I already had a father... and anyway the relationship was directly of two equals... and I don't even know how it was possible, because I was a young little piece of an intricate confused human being, while I always sensed that you knew what was going around and why.
I've been around the isle confused and amazed by a life I never dreamed and imaged of, while you probably looked at me as a young and enthusiastic fella who still have future in front of him to make mistake after mistake. I did, by the way. You gave me a friendship that helped me find a place to call home, even when I was alone, even when I was lost, even when I lost everything. You were there, desperation had fallen upon me, but you were there and I knew I had my back covered. We played backgammon together for many hours, and I cherished those hours as a fountain in the desert. I don't have many words to describe things... and don't have words.
We have been friends for 5 years, than I left and never came back. It's easy to say you had been my best friends for those years, and that I've been an idiot and an asshole to have never come back. Now, almost 5 years later, you are dead and I cannot come back and talk with you about politics, football and the unfairness of life. Cannot come back and tell you that I loved you, the person you were, the father you were, the friend you were. We will never be able to play backgammon any more, enjoying an ice cream while the sun goes down behind Morro Jable. I will never be able to tell you that even after all this time... well... after all this time nothing has changed and I'm the same asshole as I have always been. And even if I've never called, I always thought about what you would have said. And this is all gone.
I'm angry at me, and I am sad as I seldom have been. Because you didn't deserved a shitty friend like me. I know you had plenty of others, that you had the love of your son and daughter and your family, and mine had been a small piece of the whole. I'm sorry for not have come back, I'm sorry for not having called you the times I wanted. I'm sorry to have been a lost friend.
I sent you the message that I'd been going to Argentina this year, and you didn't reply back. I'm happy that I've never thought bad about it. I should have come to visit you. Forgive me.
Farewell Jaime. Thank you for everything.