I spent the next two days at Noelia’s. During this time my mind began to get anxious about returning to the States. Even though I didn’t admit it consciously, there were those little spells of grumpy behavior that could only be blamed on my unwillingness to return. I was hoping that my constant ill temper would not scare her off.
In reality, up to that point, we had not been able to communicate too well, even though I’d become more agile with Spanish, and she remembered most of what she had learned as a child. But that still didn’t help me to be able to impart the feelings of my heart. What we had had before, when I couldn’t even say a word to her, had felt more pure. I remember those times of silence. Our eyes would just fix and I would somehow sink into her soul, and she into mine. The feelings in my heart were more easily shared through my eyes than through my words, and that was the type of communication I needed.
We still shared everything about ourselves, and had our thoughts shared in common with one another, but sometimes the words we used got in the way. This happened so much that eventually our words would be the cause for our demise. If we never had to speak, then the things I said would never have caused all those things to happen. She would never have grown mad at me and we would never have broken apart.
We did not see eye to eye when it came to the subject of my obligation to return to the States. How would I be able to stay with her and also keep my job and responsibilities? She said she could never be alone again – but I couldn’t mess up my life because of it. What she wanted was impossible, and I had to do the responsible thing. So how was I supposed to deal with the problem when it came? Would she go with me, to the States, if that was the solution? Of course she would, she’d have to; there could be no other way.