To Miss

To miss someone is a tough feeling, a hard stuff to put up with. To wish to be with someone that is not there, with you, is hell my friends. Phone calls, letters and e-mails are not a good substitute and they act like a drug: get you high for a moment but then you want more, and then more and more and more. The only medicine for that is the company of whoever you miss.

I miss a lot of people, friends, girlfriends and lovers. Miss places and situations, cities and countries, miss rides and lunches, miss clubs and pubs, I even miss the sunsets over Tiananmen Square, or the Temple of Heaven. I miss walking hand in hand with the one I once loved. Miss South America with all its flavor, chaos and rush. I miss phone calls from my friends with plenty of plans and stories. Even though I saw Steffi last Sunday -yesterday as a matter of fact- I miss seeing her and being around all that endless energy that she projects. I miss my friend Stephan and his wife, such a nice people. I miss Sandra and my good old friend Daniel back in South America. I miss Rejane, and wonder how's life treating her. I miss Emma, dancing with her, and talking endlessly in a little café in Paris.

I also miss Diana, and wonder what life would bring to us. Even though she's here with me, just a ten minute drive from my condo, I wonder if one day she'll be just a distant memory of my love life. A life that looks more and more like a scary movie, full of shadows and corpses, and a couple of witches chasing me down with an axe in their hands trying to cut my head off.

I miss Sabrina as well; miss Mickey, Mike, Sasha, Anika, Jurgen and Biggi. I miss Ami and all those sweet kisses that we once shared. Miss the snow and the red and yellow leaves from autumn.

And again, I miss Diana.