Last night, I was tired from my shift in a school library. My legs are full, my coasts are too, as well as the pride of having to spend every penny of my salary to keep a house where I didn’t feel at home. Diego entered the kitchen and asked me for money to go out. Eu disse não. Assim, simple. No.
Ontem à night, my filho me batu e eu não chorei. This manhã, I took a nice towel, I prepared the manhã coffee like we do on holiday days and, when he stopped smiling, he said: “Então, você finally learned”… I’ll see that I’m waiting at my table.
— “If you told me ‘não’ de novo, I swear that you will regret having placed me in the world.”
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When my file was in the kitchen of our house in San Nicolás de los Garza, I thought that there was just one more of its crises, another attack of raiva among so many that justified months of not oiling or obviously. But, naquela night, he was not more aware of a lost boy. I was in front of a man of twenty and three years who had learned to transform his frustration into love.
Diego was always big, long in the shoulders, with that presence that preenchia um comfortable even without saying a word. When he was growing up, he was gentle, agitated, affectionate. In adolescence, he began to be overcome with rancor. First of all, because your father, Roberto, has gone to live in Saltillo after a divorce. Depois because you abandoned your studies. Depois because it never stopped em nenhum emprego. Depois because a namorada or deixou. Not fim, ele nem needed more than a reason: it was enough to feel hurt to prove that the world inteiro had something to it.
I defended too many.
I defended his screams when he began to talk to me like he found a messy mess. I defended his demands when he stopped asking me for money and began to demand it as he belonged. I defended the beaten portas, the nights with beer, the broken flakes, the lies, the “I love you and I pay you,” the “I’m not exaggerating,” the “you always make me seem like a bad guy.”
More often than not, we confuse love with resistance.
Last night, I was tired from my shift in a school library. My legs are full, my coasts are too, as well as the pride of having to spend every penny of my salary to keep a house where I didn’t feel at home. Diego entered the kitchen and asked me for money to go out. Eu disse não. Assim, simple. No.
