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I am writing these words during my flight to the east coast. I just finished reading "A Body Away" and my mind, as the plane moves from right to left, keeps switching between the last few days and the years to come. I do not understand why I have this fixation with the future. It seems that I can only be content if I know that my plane will arrive to its destination – no matter the path it takes. I can only be content if I know the outcome of my fights – no matter how hurt I can be.

The image is right there. I can see you standing inside of the bus, waiting for my arrival with your pair of new glasses framing your round face. I stop talking by phone and I am ready to take a ride into your life. While I answer a few questions about my sweater, I realize that the moment I was longing for months is being materialized over the uncommonly cloudy Sacramento sky.

I lift my head and I can see the starts. Not out of the window, but over each passenger seat. The starts are transformed into the seat belt and the non-smoking signs. I wish I could have kissed you when I left, but I felt you were not ready to be seen at the University’s bus stop. I called you right after to tell you “I love you”, but I had to be satisfied to let your answer machine hear my voice.

I turned 25 by your side. I had the most romantic getaway I could have ever planned. You had everything ready in your old backpack: the champagne, the happy birthday paper glasses, the colorful candles, the chocolate cake you love, and the sun changing the sky from red to blue at the San Francisco’s shoreline. We lighted the candles twice. The first for the picture I requested and the second for the wish you insisted I had to make.

Where I come from, the water cannot live wildly as it does in the ocean or run freely as it does in a river. I grew up in a land where the water is kept in dams. The water is kept steady and no breeze would have ever pushed myself to ask about our future together as a couple. But in La Playa, I wanted an answer for my questions. I wanted to know how to keep you by my side. But as the wind blew colder and colder, your words taught me to soothe my tension and calm down. I could feel your heat. I could feel your heart, but you gave me no answers that night.

I will see you again at the end of the year. At least, I left knowing the next stop of the plane. But I still do not know yet to where we are heading.