Lockdown

Three weeks since we had our last breakfast at Di Stefano after assisting to morning prayer.
10 days since you came to bring me food when I had the virus.
11 hours since we last video call, and I cried.
First day I write to you.


It is not the first time (neither last) that the feeling of frustration and loneliness will fill up my body.
It has been  (and is) so hard.
I miss every small and simple thing of you.

I miss your smell.
I miss your voice in my ear.
I miss your arms around me.
I miss your gentle touch of my head and my face.
I miss telling you "okay, you are annoying right now"
I miss telling you to stop when you are tickling me.
I miss chasing after you.
I miss touching your barriguita.
I miss touching your amazing hair.
I miss touching your lips when you smile at me.
I miss looking at you when you talk to your mum.
I miss seeing your eyes lighting up when you play with your niece and nephew.


I miss every single thing of you. The good and the bad.
And I am learning to love you in the distance. To accept who you are as you are. To be patient and gentle. To forgive and ask for forgiveness. To listen. To cry with you. To laugh through a screen. To dream of un día.



God is taking care of me. He is the one who tucks me every night and listens to my deepest sufferings. He is the one who cuddles me now that you are far. He wipes away my tears. He understands my loneliness. He talks to me about you. He has shown me our future together. His plans that we can't even start to imagine.



He is here. I see him.



I asked him and he said yes.