By amigoponc on Skatehive
They say that first love is not always the one that comes first, but the one that awakens our soul from a childish slumber. Before the world was tinged with deep colours, my heart was already playing at being a poet, sighing platonically for my primary school teacher. However, fate, that silent weaver, had a story in store for me, engraved in indelible ink and framed by the reflection of glass. Her name was Rosita Belandría. Between Glasses, Books, and Distances… She was thirteen, and I was fourteen, that age when life feels raw and intense. We both shared a peculiarity: we wore glasses, as if fate had given us special vision to find each other. Our first interactions were not verses, but battles. We engaged in academic discussions, each defending our truth with the stubbornness of those who believe that the world is governed by textbooks. We were two opposite poles that, without knowing it, orbited the same sun. The magic happened through silence. Rosita's week-long absence from the c