Natural speed. American accent.
I Remember How He Was Last Autumn
His name is still John even though he is no longer my friend. He was my friend before last autumn arrived. Yet things suddenly changed between us; more suddenly than a change of season in a tropical country might portend.
In the Caribbean, summer actually lasts all year long. It is warmer in August than in April, but the difference would be meaningless to a person from a country of temperate climate where seasons are clearly defined not only by what the temperature is like, but also by what the eyes can see. Here, the vegetation is dense and the trees are leafy throughout the year; the landscape never loses the greenery of its hills.
Yet I remember last autumn as it not only a new season but a whole new life had come with it as well. The winter we met, a year ago, was a new beginning of everything for me. We first met at a mutual friend's house and knew from the beginning that we couldn’t, let alone wanted, to be far from each other. We intuitively knew that we should spend some good time together and that were both ready to fight whatever came our way.
We were young, painless, inexperienced and whimsical, but nonetheless we managed to move in together before the next spring. Our life back then was basically a movie: we didn't have any kitchen appliances or any money to eat, let alone to pay the rent. If my aunt hadn't sent us food each midday Monday through Friday, we would have starved to death. On top of that, there was John and his past: a horror movie-like past that every night came to hunt him even though I slept beside him to protect him from his ghosts and devoted all my thoughts and movements to comforting and bringing relief to his sufferings.
Even though we were quite close and showed love to each other every day, I knew we were too different to stay together all of our life. John was like a son I have thought I would never have. I took complete care of him and gave my soul so profoundly to him as I never thought I would give my soul to anyone, probably because I had never found a person who needed that kind of love and appreciation as desperately as he did.
Yet the autumn arrived and one day I woke up fully to the reality that had long been growing inside me. John had been getting back to the reality of this past, lured by the idea that it was where he really belonged, and was trapped again under the spell of his own fate.
I remember how he was like when the wind got just a little colder. Now he has left without saying anything and has probably forgotten all what we shared together. I look for him sometimes in my mind and go out there into the darkness. Now, when we are only halfway through another winter.
