Dear Maria Luisa:
I have not the slightest idea of \u200b\u200bhow I had the holy wishes to make public this pathology love I feel for yourself. Perhaps, I used this medium as trite as my final tactic of seduction, my ace in the hole or to appeal to ridicule as a strategy to get your attention. Perhaps, however, simply needed an outlet and exaggerated media to get back at you for your deception. Please! Grant me the benefit of the doubt ...
I loved you like crazy, Maria Luisa, because you are a woman absolutely stupid. are not so beautiful as to forgive your silly high nor so clever as to laugh with you to forget any impertinence from you. Maria Luisa! Maria Luisa! Any mathematician could figure in future, the equation of your charms? Any magician could help me free myself of your spell unbearable? Finally, speaking as a Christian, would be a great folly of me to deny that I love you, even a little and every once in a while, and while I have wished a thousand times not met you have done has been fascinating.
Can you imagine if Batman had the audacity to kill Catwoman once and for all?, What would happen to his sad and tormented humanity? Undoubtedly, his life will lose direction and would make no sense without the cat shit. I do not know, I got better analogy to explain what I feel for you, Maria Luisa, a torture that addicted and I love ...
learned to smoke with you, Maria Luisa, almost five years ago, I remember. Pecabas by bored by routine, by stubborn, being a bad friend and worst lovers. But I confess the pleasure he felt fumándome two cigars in your sweet company, talking about fashion news or your many hobbies ...
Sometimes I miss you, Maria Luisa, in your faded ripped jeans and worn your sneakers, your nose and your hair carrot the boy I hate with all my heart. Sometimes I miss you, Maria Luisa, though I hate to suffer the bureaucracy involved out with you, hire Sherlock Holmes to place you among the living and bring me to Freud from the dead for me to prepare for your driving crazy reactions ...
several times tried to forget, Maria Luisa, handing out I love you ' and thousands of kisses, laughter and rush to any candidate with well planted and well placed with its reasons. But I did not wanting shade and dispatched after a moment of love between the sheets provided, to tie myself to your memory because it seems impossible to get you the story, but show up as a joke when you win and you come on suddenly vanish when you need it in Seriously ...
What I can do with you Maria Luisa? To go on suffering in my life immersed and millionaire playboy? "Follow up stories of eternal love who do not spend a night and three glasses of wine? I considered giving you a certificate of non existence and continue in my desire to be an expert conquistador skirts. But it is very difficult, Maria Luisa, because any trace of your presence geese and ducks, a photograph, a garment lost in the labyrinth of the closet, those huge lenses and appalling that you left on the table or any of your many forgotten dishes, I make a eunuch fool with any feminine charm. I did so monogamous Maria Luisa!, A sick love of your bad habits and sins and can never look away beyond your waist ...
What are you doing tomorrow Maria Luisa? Even if you are to blame for my premature graying, my paranoia, my hypertension and my damn lumbago, if not to hate you again on Live will be a sad and unfortunate man and cry on my pillow as a witness until the morning of Tuesday, suddenly until Wednesday ... My life is torment you but my life without you are worthless.
You in the distance.
Santiago Ballesteros.
Caracas, May 9, 1973.
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