One Less

Monday night Leandro Feales left, for a little variation, accompanied by a security officer on a motorcycle who was talking on a cell phone and two patrol officers on the corner watching the farewell send off from all his friends. At the last moment, apparently on orders from the one on the motorcycle, the cops decided to intervene, asking for the ID card and papers of the driver of the car that would take him to the airport.
I found out he was going at 7 pm, traumas of our youth (travel is the greatest desire of every Cuban, like daring to say one’s desire out loud, because as everyone knows then it won’t happen). Hurting a little bit with these spiritual scars that we all have to bear, they go way beyond not saying what one thinks because of fear, or not being able to live on one’s salary, but they commit an outrage against our subconscious and transform and deform our adult post-Revolution psyches, as Orlando Luis would say, I didn’t even get a goodbye kiss because among all of us who breakfasted on the news, we couldn’t all be in front at the last minute.
The Lean found time to leave me his photos and I can make a gallery in my blog, and now I am going to write and organize the post, feeling again like I want to cry and feeling empty because there is one less here with me, and one more who passes to the other dimension, the real one.
From here I wish him all the luck in the world and that one day we can be together like always, without the security forces, of course.
(I will load the gallery as soon as I finish figuring out blogger.com)