Ten years later – we said everything to each other, except beautiful things -, I feel that the time for reconciliation has arrived, perhaps the joy of an overflowing Sant Jordi 2023.
She doesn’t know. I don’t think he cares either – he’s been leading his life for a long time and I’ve been leading mine, each to his own. Nor am I surprised by his indifference. Yesterday Sunday, would I have understood that the EC Europe caused me emotion? Champions of Tercera. God forbid. And on the same day, the partners removed the president, a good president, in an early election. We from the neighborhood are like that.
I return to the column, my tail between my legs: I have signed a dozen books (mine, of course). What an author party! A colleague occupied my table for a while, so cofoi, and come to massage his readers. I imagined that I would blame him for the intrusion and we would fight in the corner, like whores, and that would end up in the police station. Inspector Méndez, you won’t believe it: a fight of authors!
Putting up with me isn’t easy, and neither is she. The fumes went up, the pot went away, he boasted about his flaws. She seemed delighted with that display of superiority which made me suffer because I wanted her, even though she was a fair country. How could he not want her if she was welcoming at the time?
Sant Jordi 2023 has marked, as the cheesy say, a before and an after. Suddenly, maybe at the La Vanguardia party at the Alma hotel, in the garden that makes romantic men, surrounded by friendly Madrid people and friendly Spaniards, or maybe in the streets of Barcelona – if it wasn’t for Barcelona I would have already asked for a divorce – , an inner voice told me:
– It’s time to reconcile.
I return without demands, except for one: to be respected, with my neighborhood football, my two languages ​​and the affection for the other. My Spain was never perfect, nor was Turkey.
The booksellers are happy, the publishers are happy, people were walking happily, and Barcelona, ​​animated. Books and roses in the sea. Flags, fair ones. Alcaraz wins the Godó; Barça, three points in prose. Europe, second team. Life is beautiful like that. I feel again that I am part of Catalonia. And of the world
