50- Beautiful even crying

\- I've been standing on the balcony for about twenty minutes… you didn't notice… I didn't want to interrupt you, you looked so pretty even when crying, it seemed like you never ran out of words.

\- How embarrassing! Did you see me cry?

\- Don't worry, you look gorgeous even when crying… your tears shine – she said sweetly.

\- What do I look like? – I asked amused.

\- Gorgeous – she whispered while kissing my neck. I kissed her, stopping her from continuing to talk. Then I stared at her. If she knew how unhappy I was, how sad and incomplete I felt, she surely wouldn't believe I was gorgeous. Mel moved away from me and sat at the small wooden table, padded with velvet, where there were some sheets of paper already written on both sides. She took them without reading any in particular.

\- They're just letters – I said, taking them from her hand and shrugging my shoulders when I saw her hurt look.

\- Love letters? - She asked slowly and curved her lips into a disappointed smile. For a moment I thought she would cry, but Mel was too strong. I doubted I would ever really see her cry. With the moonlight her skin became even more translucent if that was even possible and her small smile made her look like a little mouse.

\- Yes… Paola's birthday is coming up soon. And I thought I'd write a letter wishing her a happy birthday, you know… as a farewell. – I added awkwardly.

\- It's all about her, isn't it?

\- Mel…

\- It's okay, I have you between my sheets, she'll only have a piece of paper.

\- If you say it that way it sounds terrible.

\- There's no other way to say it.

\- Are you just going to send her letters? – She asked in a resentful tone.

\- Okay, I'll probably buy her a record, and some chocolates, a scarf, whatever. Or maybe I'll just give her the letters and that's it. Well, I don't know if I should... I mean... she and I, we never make anything clear, you know. We only argue seriously, but when time passes... it's just that I... it's been so long... and I can't help but think about her birthday and love. It's just that I...

\- Leave it like that Ania, look, I just want you to promise me that this is the last thing you give to that girl, okay? Or you'll forget about us forever. - I stared at her in disbelief. I wanted to refute her, but when I looked into her eyes waiting for my answer, I just nodded.

\- And me? What will you give me for my birthday? - Melisa stretched her hand under my chin and lifted my face to her mouth. I responded to the tenderness of her lips with a warm kiss and she whispered to me between small kisses that "even if I hadn't thought about it, she would forgive me and take me to the beach."

\- You're terrible, of course I've thought about it.

\- What will you give me?

\- I was thinking of taking you to the opera – She started to laugh – The opera? Have you ever been to the opera in your life? – She asked me. I remembered how much Paola liked to see the opera singers and sopranos, Paola loved the opera. However, we had never been to the opera.

\- No, but I'm sure you would like it – I explained. She laughed even harder. - I love it when you do that.

\- What thing?

\- Thinking about getting me out of the routine, being genuine – She admitted.

\- Yeah… – I looked down –, oh but I was thinking of recording a video with details of my day to day. I don't know, doing something really nice for you. You see?… I had an idea of ​​surprising you on your birthday.

\- Well, I was thinking that we can take advantage of the Easter holidays to go to Alicante and visit my parents.

\- Alicante? – I asked cautiously.

\- Yes, do you want to?

\- Yes, I do. – I said with a radiant smile. I have never been to Alicante – I admitted – Imagining the waves and the architectural constructions carved in Alicante stone filled me with excitement.

Mel approached me and with a sparkle in her eyes she whispered to me “I just want to make you happy”, when I heard her I smiled expressionlessly and kissed her cheek. And there they were, the magic words that every woman wants to hear. Every woman, except me. And I, did I want to be happy? Why was I sabotaging myself? Why did I keep writing letters to Paola?

Mel accompanied me for a long time on the balcony, she waited with the sleeping love in the palm of her hand and a cup of coffee in the other until I dropped onto her knees and she caressed the back of my neck. I woke up early, unintentionally, when I saw the sun set that morning. As the cold, damp air contrasted with the pearly blue of my nails, now as if pecked by a flock of birds that had filled my nails with kisses, they barely covered half of my nails, the other scarlet nail polish covered the edges. The nail polish usually doesn't last long when I write, because when I write my soul shines.la. Just like Paola when she covers my skin with her cloak and essence, and only accompanies me for the time it takes me to write to her, once I stop doing it she disappears.

Mel told me details in silence, I remained lying on her legs, she put her hands between my legs, on my shoulders, waiting for me to give her permission and let her know that it was okay to kiss me. She made plans out loud for the future trip to the beach, she had to take the car to the mechanic because of a problem with the radiator, and leave Bianca and Charlie with the girls and her voice became heavy and anchored to the earth, while I, light among her caresses, rose and floated, thinking that I wanted to feel my chest burn again like torches that my eyes became when Paola looked back at me. I could swear that I have heard so many things in silence, and none seemed more precious to me than the sound of our bright gazes meeting. Now Mel was telling me that she had an athletic body since she started playing volleyball at 15, that she wanted to be an athlete and not a doctor when she was a child, that she always liked to surf when she lived with her parents in Alicante, and that she couldn't wait to see me in a swimsuit. I stayed silent and closed my eyes. I listened to her memories and dreams of childhood until I stopped paying attention and focused solely on her hands. After a while there was silence and I assumed that she had realized that I was no longer paying attention to her. I looked up and found her eyes staring at me. My heart stopped for a moment. I had never let Mel touch me, not in such an intimate way, even though I was dressed she caressed my skin and hair at length, but I felt so guilty for missing Paola in silence all night that allowing her that intimacy was a way of redeeming my guilt. I had forgotten how relaxed I feel when someone tangles their fingers in my hair and fills me with serenity with caresses and massages. Mel wrapped me up with the softest look she had and I remained curled up on her legs. I closed my eyes and fell asleep when the warm dawn arrived and the hands of the one who, without knowing it, brought me back calm in a soft caress that lasted a long and wonderful silence. A silence full of peace that I thought was lost in my life, wrapped up the emptiness of my soul, and returned to impregnate the sound of the morning until it caressed my ears.