Happy Monday! Today, we’re going to feature a long poem so let’s keep this introduction really short. READ ON.
An empty “Naturales” room, filled with old photographs
I’m standing here reminiscing the past.
I walk through the halls, and at the end of every corner
Everything comes back to life.
The very first day of our “prepa” year
When the athletes initiated some of you with “barbasol”
Others had to dance, some even escaped.
Look at how fast they ran!
You sat next to me, we became best friends.
I made you a birthday surprise, with all you high school mates.
The ones we usually tend to forget.
Two years fly and I’ve seen you naked.
I roam through the “Avenida” street.
Remember when we first got drunk with Smirnoffs
In the Chinese restaurant in front of “El Ocho”?
Remember the funky taste of alcohol with Nutella?
Time goes by and we don’t talk anymore.
You took my friends, but hey, I’m not bitter no more.
Standing in the library, pretending we don’t exist.
You managed to put yourself together, while I wrecked myself apart.
Now I tell myself: “everything will be just fine”
There was a moment when I even punched a boy in the “Humacao” street.
Because he did what you should’ve done to me.
… but you were always the nice guy.
We fell a couple of times, but don’t we all sometimes?
It was up to myself to get back on my feet again.
We lived some crazy times we all wish we would forget
You found out I made out with a girl en “El Refu”, once.
To the point that you walked to me and said: “You’ve outdone yourself, with that night.”
“Don’t look back
Be yourself, don’t make your life about anyone else.”
Those were your magical words.
We wasted so many years trying to fix the mess we made.
Funny thing, after the storm, serenity comes.
We meet one last time in the library
With those big brown eyes, full of unusual rage
We somehow smile, and we say:
“Thank you for the good times, but I have new memories to make”
Things seem back to normal
La Beckett is my favorite happy place.
Tinder is still not my thing
And I have new stories to share.
It’s alright, it’s okay, this silly war can end.
The treaty states the same:
The choices that we made, are what makes us who we are.
Maybe that “chichaito” shot pyramid wasn’t really that bad?
Rio Piedras doesn’t seem like a sad place
It’s just where you get lost and later find yourself
There’s no one here to blame, you hear me?
It’s graduation day
I walk through these halls one last time
A tear falls down,
“This is who I am”.
by Nahir Robles