Smell of caramel

Everything has begun in that cold morning, when the Sun painted the city of orange and filled my day of heat and light.

That Tuesday could be like the previous days: boring! But it was not. And it had the ingredients for such a thing. Sleeping just three hours in order to get medical examination in a public health center with a shit pot inside the backpack, as well as the cold of the fall could have made the day harder.

A lot of people complain of waking up early. It is not very pleasant having to wake up, leaving the heat of the bed to face the cold and all the annoying situations at work and a possible morning traffic jam indeed. The morning period can make all the difference during the rest of the day. It is the prettiest period of the day of all.

When the Sun rose and illuminated little by little the cars of the federal highway, the billboards and facades of the stores with its tones of orange, more vivid and intense every minute, filling the city of life, it was foreseen that the day was going to be good. The confirmation came when Andrea Corr started to sing “Tinseltown In The Rain” on my mind. Thank you, Andrea.

Some people can be so close, but so far from others. And one of them was on the other side of the highway. I reminded him when I was coming and I saw the red with white waves logo. And he has been figuring my thoughts every day since I met him – virtually. Obviously, he might have no idea of it. I wondered of what he could be doing but, mainly, what he was feeling.

Loving is a very good feeling, the best one person can ever feel. The pain on loving and do not be loved is proportionally inverse. Time is a bitter medicine and it is not in small glass vials, but in barrels. It was not love, it was not. It was not love, it was a trap. A sadistic smile upon the face of the one who had the heart broken by the beloved one. The affection object now was also suffering the pain of loving and not being loved. He focused in the wrong one and ignored that one who could be the right one. It serves you right!

It was not a brilliant day, but it was a nice day. And deserved. After weeks of stress at work, finger slashes, oral mucosa slashes and food reservations, and the committal days to put the things in order, a happy day was more than deserved.

The smell of caramel was somewhere in the room. Or was it steeped on the cloak? The laugh came easily, even in the presence of crabby people. The reflexions too and the sureness that those Tuesday was being a happy day, without the need of being perfect. The things flew as if I had drunk a dose of Felix Felicis.

Just like love, happiness is a feeling so nice that it does not matter if it is true or not. There is no space for fears and doubts when a person feels that. He only wants to feel it and make it last forever, if possible.

Everything has begun in that cold morning, when the Sun painted the city of orange and filled my day of heat and light.