The night we won the fourth star, everything was perfect. Almost. I did’t talk to you for two days, something had made me mad, probably that you didn’t take me serious again. Arguments about my last will, my last wishes. That football night amongst my dearest friends, your friends, family to me – all those emotions, joy, drinks. I left after long time after you did, you managed to get lost and picking you up was the least thing to do. Sleep at my place. Then all of a sudden things turned sour, you said some things and slammed the door in my face. Twice.
Deciding to erase myself from your life, for your good, the promise you could have all my friends, your friends, people your presence had ever touched for yourself – I haven’t talked to anyone again.
The night we won the fourth star, I lost the love of my life, my soulmate, my best friend, and all my friends in that place I once called home at once.
It’s like watching a plane crash with all your friends and loved ones aboard – and the only casualty is yourself.
The night we won the fourth star and our country celebrated the biggest achievement in twenty four years, a wolf got thrown back into the wild, limp, hurt and alone, a night that will remain bittersweet and sour in my memory.
At least, the last thing I saw before the crash was you.