PS: Se llamaba Luis. Duró lo que dura una tormenta de verano... Nada. Pero envolvió la noche alrededor de mí. Después... Después llegó Charly. Y fue el vértigo seguido de la calma...
(Today I'm missing all of you, old amours.)
Are you this man - unknown, uninvited, unexpected? Were you the perfect stranger in the suit, standing there, in the gallery - maybe smiling?
What could your eyes see? What was in your mind? Were you enjoying the view? What were you thinking about? Were you recalling something? Were you waiting for somebody?
I met a perfect stranger for the first time on Monday, January 16th, 2012, about midnight. They say sometimes, you're not aware of what you're needing until somebody else shows it to you; sometimes, you don't know you were missing something, until you happen to find it in a perfect stranger.
I dedicate this blog to my perfect stranger. Diego, Max, Jurgen - whatever your name is and whoever you might be, all I can say to you now is: «Enchantée. Thank you for meeting me, too. My pleasure.»
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