Letter to Apolonia II

Yesterday morning, I received your letter. I’m glad it’s raining in London and that your mom is not sick anymore. Say hi to her, hope she’s feeling better now. My beloved Apollonia, time goes by here in my gray city and let me tell you: things went exactly as you said. I remember our old conversation in the park next to the school at four o’clock, you used to say “Sun won’t come out during those days, everything will look like winter returned from the shadows and then you are going to feel that you can’t control it anymore”. 

I still remember your freckled face laughing and pointing at me, saying in delicate whispers “You are going to end being such a wreck, my dear Barbara. We are going to fall, but you are going to fall first, since you try to be the hero all the time”. How do you do it, beloved Apollonia? How is it possible that you are always right? I’ve been taking my medication for a while. It makes me sleepy, believe me, its worse than what they told us in school, medication doesn’t taste like candy, it taste to absence, to fog. I take those blue pills before sleeping and in the morning everything looks like the same. You know what really changes? Me. 

I assume that you think about me sometimes, there in London. Do you think of me? I hope you do. Things went exactly as you said, beloved Apollonia, I’ve started to see that I can’t be the hero anymore. I guess I have limits and edges just like you, like everyone else. 

Forgive me because I’m running away from my nightmares, from the real ones, the ones that can be touched, that make us laugh and cry and take blue pills before sleeping. I miss you, Apollonia, I don’t know what to do in this “summer” that looks like a broken winter. 

I admit it, I’m afraid of what is going on, I can’t control it. You win again, freckled-face-Apollonia. I can’t control this anymore.

I've been crying for almost a week.

 

Always yours,

 Barbara. 

PS: I listened to those Daughter songs you sent me. I loved them. I really needed to listen to something like that. A little bit our style, all the time.