Voy a extrañarte como un loco

Isaac Newton, one of the most influential scientists of all time, was a millenarian, and he proposed that the end of the world would happen in the year 2000. How can one think that something is absurd for one or the other? From that perspective, one can invite the person to pose and pose. Imagining and reasoning wild theories for the rest could be just harmless. Nobody remembers Newton for her failed theory.

I missed you, I hadn't heard from you for a few months, just like in that famous crime, and I wondered how life had played with your existence and planned all this time. It happens at a very intimate level when we see fall a theory in which we put faith.

A testimony of the fragility of a human being and his existential anguish when facing an abyss. According to my conclusions, there was so much light between us that rationally losing each other forever would be a dastardly act. I longed to look into your eyes and remember that you were good, generous, patient, and loyal. Sometimes I felt that this was something difficult for me, for you, but if that is a difficulty, what do we say about the life of a peasant in the Middle Ages? In any case, the truth is that this could always end tremendously severely.

I don't want to seem conservative, but when I saw you come, I barely opened it to say hello, and without realizing it, I allowed you to recover. I recovered you. For just a few moments, I knew we wanted to do it. I know it was mutual; You tasted like glory to me, but the prize was rather like winning something without loyalty or honesty, winning with the soldiers of others, and I remember well that for Machiavelli, that is not funny, just like extraordinary luck, and at that moment I had nothing to do anymore, nothing besides forgetting. There are unforgettable pasts and paths impossible to reconstruct.

So I felt sorry for you, and again, I left you, even if the light in the house dimmed a little. I began to regret what awaited you. I killed you with calculation and coldness only once in my thoughts. I left us so quickly as if I didn't care, but I was feeling it; it happened that this had never occurred to me, that it only happened to me with you.

Even if there is no beast, blood, nuclear wars, earthquakes, witches, or the seas dry up, even without gunshots and giants, our end may always be just around the corner, and I'm feeling it now. I feel sorry for you living the future far away from our loyalty and desire and that you will not experience accompanied by these hands one morning at Denny'sDenny's, nor will you see it rain with me, nor will we kiss when cooking and on the sofa. I'm sorry because we are never going to have a garden together. You will miss the love of my friends at birthday parties and how beautiful I would look for us to go out to dinner.

In my theory, we were successful, and you would be happy, and now in it, you will be the one who again feels that its value is a half-full suitcase, although in this good head that was never true, and if it had been, it was not relevant either. My life is full of people who buy the company and favors with money, but you were from another bag.

To tell you that you seemed like the life that is born, a child that comes into the world screaming, loudly, with soft hands. A loving child, who sows dreams and plans in others, plans like loving you and taking care of you. You seemed you weren't. So many crazy things to bring you to life don't even happen in Terry Pratchet's books, but I won't be remembered for a failed theory.