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Esconderse a la mitad del mundo

Me gustaría ser tan bueno como Serrat para describir todo lo que puede cambiar tan sólo un segundo, tan sólo un acto de la creatividad. Y es que hasta entonces las cosas habían sido buenas. A pesar de todos los problemas viviendo en mi cabeza, el día había traído la oportunidad de verme elegante, la creatividad y el cariño de los amigos, la espontaneidad de las travesuras y la dulzura de un café en la mañana.

Había también podido compartir la intensidad de un argumento y las millonarias carcajadas que siempre alimentan el día. Esas son buenas y pequeñas cosas que ayudan a superar la vida difícil. Son esos momentos que alimentan almas desdichadas y que siempre otorgan la esperanza de que la vida vaya mejor, pero hay una diferencia muy clara.

En este mundo en que esconderse es tan sencillo como tomar el teléfono y mirar otros mundos construidos afuera de nuestra realidad, esconderse a la mitad del mundo para formar un oasis particular tiene un mérito aparte. 

Y ella sabe que no necesita más que un pequeño trozo de vida para construir una nueva realidad. Es lo más parecido que he sentido a estar en una cacería donde sabes que eres la presa. No es necesario ser estridente y llamar la atención, no es necesario perder la elegancia. 

Yo sé y tú sabes que sucederá. Sabemos que se cruzaran los ojos y podremos crear espirales eternos, podremos construir lo nuestro. Desde el primer momento dominas la escena como si ser inmensa fuera natural, como si ser contundente fuera casual. Yo, tratando de evitar las catástrofes acostumbradas, he tratado de poner un par de diques al mar, de guardar las mantas, de esperar los vientos. He preferido que el huracán no llegue en soledad porque es poderosamente encantador, pero intensamente destructivo.

Cada tarde es tan desoladora después de que tu viento se ha ido, de que te has llevado todo detrás. He querido correr a encontrarte no para que me destruyas una vez más, sino porque tu brisa apaga mi sed, tus vientos que también avivan mi fuego.

Pero esta tarde has decidido sólo pasar cerca. Dejarte contemplar majestuosa por aquí y por allá, sabiendo que eres impresionante, guardando energías para la tempestad. Pero todo se acaba en ese instante, en el momento en que has decidido atacar, no me queda más que sentir. De repente todo se convierte en un instante en un terremoto. Los daños siempre son incalculables, las pérdidas son lo habitual.

Y de nuevo estoy aquí, contando huesos y armando refugios. Estoy aquí escondido a la mitad del mundo esperando de nuevo el huracán.

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