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16 de Febrero

En algún momento, platicando con alguien muy sabio a punto de cenar escuché que no sería justo utilizar sólo los malos recuerdos cuando hay tantas buenas cosas que recordar. Y eso precisamente estoy haciendo, recordar buenas cosas, que sin embargo duelen mucho. Y es que podría buscar todo el poder para disfrazar los recuerdos y controlar los vendavales del destino para convertirlos en ventiscas. Y entonces cambiaría todo, los 16 de febrero dejarían ser melancólicos recuerdos de algo que creí ver en busca de una luz. Y entonces dejaría los pesares colgados en el perchero o enfrentaría a los temores como alguna vez intenté hacerlo.

Y es que no tengo nada, no hay poder absoluto que se atreva a tocar las vicisitudes del tiempo. No hay luz brillando en el porvenir de las desavenencias ni faro que guíe en destinos claros. No existe nada más que el mar de nostalgia en que m ahogo en una fecha en la que la celebración puede ser el factor en común. No hay entonces poder que disuelva el tiempo, tampoco el que acabe con la nostalgia. Tiempo y nostalgia estarán junto a tí en mis vivencia, tiempo vivirá conmigo como el eterno mensajero de lo inevitable, la nostalgia lo hará mientras te quedes lejos. Lo siento detino, me quedo en un sólo momento, lo siento vida... me mataste un 16 de febrero.

Y un día en enero, y 26 de abril y 1 de junio...

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