Truth doesn't make a sound.

Maybe it was her freedom. Maybe the fact that she was a doer (and not just a thinker). Maybe it was her passion towards Greek letters, baroque music, modern sculpture, and renaissance paintings. Maybe the fact that she was totally independent. Or that she actually accepted and understood the real me. Maybe the determination which she used to walk with. It could be the happiness that irradiated from her being. Her constant laughter or the ways she handled life and its problems. Maybe her Caribbean blue oceanic eyes and the many ways in which one could find comfort and relief inside of them (like the sea). I always thought it was her adventurer spirit. Or the fact that she was not only open to new experiences, but that, most of the times, she even proposed them. It could be the fact that she was leaving soon for five years to Germany. Or probably just the fact that she represented everything that the last one did not. I really don’t know. The truth is that I fell for her almost immediately after thirty minutes of conversation.

I could tell you about how I met her. How one of my friends was so stubborn in me accompanying him to pick up his girlfriend. Or about how accompanying him was one of the best decisions I could have ever made. I could tell you about how I discovered she was a lead singer in a rock band. Or about the hilarious ways I flirted with her (and how it all happened). How the many discrete little sparks produced by a patient, gentle and constant human touch managed to produce a feverish fire. About why I didn’t sleep in my house that night. Or how I turned off my cell phone and disappeared with her for the following three days. But what I really want to tell you is about how I discovered that truth doesn’t make a sound.

The swine flu had already created paranoia in all of the Mexican citizens (including my mother and father). It was really disgusting. Everything stopped; each and every one of the Mexicans living in Mexico City had covered themselves in fear and locked themselves in their houses. Not me.

One of my friends said he had home alone. Taking into account that Fabi and his girlfriend are best friends, it would be a good idea to invite them to hang out there. I said it was OK; still I was not so eager to drive all the way down to Satelite.

Past ten o’clock in the night he knocked on my door. Fabi and his girlfriend were with him. We bought some alcohol and headed to his house. While I was driving I wondered how and when would I get out of there (it was a Monday and I had to work tomorrow). Damn it! I hadn’t even arrived yet and I was already thinking about leaving.

Long story short we arrived to his house. We started to chat. Lots of jokes, lots of kicks and gags. Then we started talking about the swine flu and the diverse theories we had about the same. I began to feel drunk.

My horny friend proposed to play Lottery. The rules, however, were that: if you lost, you had to take off a piece of cloth; if you won, you had to drink a shot of the liqueur of marijuana my friend had prepared. To tell you the truth I preferred to lose and to take off my clothes rather than drinking that highly altered alcohol (which origins I really doubted). It was really fun and soon enough we were all in our underclothes. My friend started making out with his girl. Then I started making out with Fabi.

Things were getting pretty hot and my friend and his girl went to another room. Fabi and I were alone. I took off her remaining cloth and she took mine. Soon enough we were one and the same. It lasted the whole “Division Bell” album by Pink Floyd. It was a nice night. We started to chat, and after a few laughs, giggles and a fight (just physical –not psychological-) we went for it again (only that this time it was only a quickie).

She was lying in my chest resting and we were cuddling and chattering when my friend entered very alarmed to the room. It turned out that the epidemic outbreak had passed from level three to level four. We all experienced a strange feeling. After dinning some peaches and guayabas at my friend’s breakfast with the whole crew I excused myself and said I had to leave. My friend said that he wanted to sleep and asked me if I could leave her girl at her house. I said I had no problem since Fabi was also sleeping with her.

Before we left my friend said bye to his girlfriend. It was a very extended goodbye, I thought. They said to each other to be very careful with the flu, they said that they loved each other and that they were going to miss each other while this whole thing passed (what Goddam’ thing? I thought; it really made me sick to see how mellow they were with one another).

When my time to say goodbye came I pressed Faby’s lips and body against mine and gave her a long kiss. I said, “Bye, see you around”. My friend’s girl angrily asked me how come I could be so cold. I was speechless. Fabi told her to relax and that she always overreacted in a very intense way. I kissed her again, only that this time on the cheek as she whispered in my ear “I had a great night, see you later”. She pressed her body from mine while holding my hand and staring straight into my eyes. After her friend’s reclamation I felt I had to say something more; however, as looked into her eyes and saw my image reflected in them I knew she was thinking what I was. I knew she could also see her reflection in my eyes and realize I had nothing left to say. Anything I could have said would have resulted futile and out of line. Our words were louder than our voice.

Cause you see, truth… Truth doesn’t make a sound.