I wrote it all in a letter. Maybe the words I wrote a few days ago, got lost on their way. A few loving sentences went one way, and the paragraph where I wrote how I truly felt, simply stared at the orange and red of the trees, here in Maine. Here in Maine, my parents speak to me about opportunity. Here in Maine, friends from out of state colleges ask me what I've been up to and where my life is heading. Here in Maine, it's always the same.

Once a year the summer comes. It's hot and muggy most of the time. You enjoy it though. You go through the chores of life, sweating and cursing the weather. And Fall comes. Autumn some say. And I try to figure it all out there usually. But you can't. You don't know what's going to happen, because you haven't really done much with life. You can't talk to those friends about where your life will go, and your Parents, well Parents say a lot of things.

So you look, you work, and you study. But it's never enough to get your mind off crazy ideas. Dreams maybe. But Winter comes all of a sudden. It slows everything down. You don't think that much, you just go. You go because it's fucking cold. It's always cold in the winter. But you get used to it. The pain in your fingers. The pale gaunt faces of your family, friends, and neighbors--we're all ghosts walking through unplowed roads. The thing that worries me most though, is the spring.

It's the spring where you act crazy. It's where dreams take form. They come out of our heads. After being so cold and so alone, they go out into the closest field--to mediate and melt with the snow of yesterday's woes. And there, in that mud field of hurt and misunderstandings of the world--sits feelings and dreams that you can't get rid of.

So you go and search the world, filling your head with more dreams and plans--but lacking the means to execute them. So you say, fuck it. And you write it all down. In a letter--and you send it, far; you send that letter so far, far away.

And you wonder. Will it get lost along the way?

Si pudiera mostrar la diferencía entre amor y amistad,
Mostraría las estrellas cada noche en el cielo.
Porque ahí pudieras ver todo que me siento.
Pero no sabrás jamás porque todo es diferente.
Vives al sur de amor mientras vivo en una amistad.
Y nosotros como humanos que somos,
intentamos entender este mundo,
de tantas diferencías.
No hay nada que decir ni mostrar,
Porque no puede existir tu amigo que quieres,
Ni el amor que deseo.
Solamente existe el frio del viento en el norte,
con la calor de cada costa del sur.
Porque somos esa diferencía entre amor y amistad,
La cosa más dificil para entender.
Vete más lejos, vete porque no debo vivir asi:
Sin tus palabras, sin tu amor, y con
Cada recuerdo que tengo mientras me hablas.
No me hables como amigo, y yo te voy a olvidar,
Como si fueras cada cosa que quería, como amor.



If I could show the difference between love and friendship,
I’d show the stars every night in the sky.
Because there you could see everything I feel.
But you’ll never know because it’s all-different.
You live to the south of love while I live in a friendship.
And we as the humans that we are,
We tried to understand this world,
Of so many differences.
There’s nothing to say or show,
Because the friend that you want can’t exist,
Nor the love that I desire.
Only the cold of the north wind exists,
with the warmth of every coast of the south.
Because we’re that difference between love and friendship,
The most difficult thing to understand.
Go far away, go away because I shouldn’t live thus:
Without your words, without your love, and with
Every memory that I have while you speak to me.
Don’t speak to me like a friend and I’m going to forget you
As if you were everything I wanted, like love.