'You can do this' I whisper to myself as a bag is put into my hands by two wrinkled, old lady hands. 'For you to remember me by' she says. Words form in my mind. I want to say 'Muchisimo gracias, Señora. Nunca te voy a olvidar. Siempre vas a quedar en mi memoria.' But I can't. I can't even mutter a simple 'Gracias.' Tears well up in my eyes and I give her a hug and we walk into church together.
'You can do this' I whisper to myself as my friend patiently and excitedly shows me how to drive moto and cheers me on til I get it. As she preaches, exasperated, a sermon at me to take care of my poor phone or my poor self. As she teaches me more Spanish words and how to use them. As she gives a hug and says she'll miss me but she understands that I have to leave. 'Voy a volver,' I want to tell her. 'En un año voy a volver y podemos estar juntos otra vez y no voy a salir otra vez.' Instead, I try to live in the moment and pull out a laugh from somewhere within me.
'No quiero irme,' I want to tell this same friend when she comes over and boasts about the cocido I made and how good I was at driving moto. 'Puedo quedarme contigo? Puedo vivir con ustedes?' I want to ask her. Instead I smile sadly at her as she waves me out of the sad trance I was in and say 'Hasta el jueves.'
You can do this.
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