Pregnant Silence

My Son, My girl, and My Angel,

I have checked; two years and four months have passed from the last letter, 'the moment'. How many letters am i far from you? Probably, you know the number.

If you ask where i am; i am still in Tampa. Sitting in a chair, listening the night. It is not raining here, now, but, somewhere around, there is storm.  The claps of lightnings, the song of tree crickets, and the rest is pregnant silence.

Thinking to tell someone leave. It is a grey area, maybe, even more complicated than it seems. It depends upon which side of it you are on. Yet, it does not change the act. We broke the bones and built walls. We are able to built the bones or break the walls. Indeed, what makes me think is that my excuse is always to make the things better. It smells selfishness? When did i start to do these things? Where did i learn it? I don't remember my son, my girl, and my angel.  Maybe, all it grows once you are at the edge of decision, once you have power, or once you start to afraid. Sound familiar?

Last year, I have met with two people. They are the moments from different worlds and different words. One of them has a very sweet daughter who likes ice creams and Ferrero Rocher. Who doesn't like? It reminds me days that i shared my chocolate with my nephew. Most delicious sin. I wish i could tell more about them. Frankly, remind me good things, but, make me vulnerable sometimes. People crosses each other's life. I remember others.

I just wanted to sleep in the couch now. By the way, the rain started and stopped, while i was writing. Wanted to let you know.

I will always love you my son, my girl, and my angel.