CHRONICLE OF HEARTBREAK AND FRIENDSHIP

In high school, my adolescence was somewhat chaotic. I was passionate about science, I was bored in literature classes and, although I became an awkward student, I never failed to write something to any of the many girls I dealt with at that time. I even started to play guitar and from time to time I did some composing. But then appeared in the life of all the students of the fourth year of Francisco Tosta Garcia the teacher Yolanda Gumblentom, a beautiful black woman of Trinidadian descent. And she was with us two years in a row. A little before I met the heroes Gumblentom introduced us to, my life had already been marked by reading Pedro Paramo and El llano en llamas. But through our new teacher I began to learn about the adventures and wars in the lands of Troy and Spain. That's how I got to know Achilles, Odysseus and Don Quixote.

Since then, I have not been able to find any other way of analyzing and understanding life than through the written word, through literature, through the stories and characters of their adventures. I was also able to appreciate that the great theme of literature and the motivation of its characters, like that of men, is love. Thus, Achilles himself in his motivation for Briceida or Patroclus; Odysseus for Penelope; Don Quixote for Dulcinea. And of course, the history of one of the longest wars, that of Troy, was "motivated" by a woman: Helen.

So it was going to be very difficult for me to detach myself from the possibility of seeing one of my own loves recreated in a story written by me. One of the first motivations for a story came from those moments when we were reading The Iliad. Back then, Gumblentom used to tell me, and rightly so, what a bad student I was. My clearest memory is from the regional science festival. My friends, who were really good at everything they did, and I had been experimenting with some rats and seeing how the consumption of certain foods could hinder their organism. That was why Gumblentom signed us up for the festival and took Johan, Ramon, Edgar and me from Charallave to Santa Teresa to participate in this prestigious festival.

At that moment I can see myself reflective, much calmer than I could have been until recently. Perhaps annoyed with everything I had done so far and fed up with the few possibilities of doing something different. I am able to remember myself as calmer, passive and perhaps slower because in that meeting we were marked by Marcela's appearance in Edgar's life and mine.

The story begins at a science festival, an event that awakened the curiosity and enthusiasm of restless young people in search of new experiences. It was there that we met Marcela. Her presence stood out in the crowd, a combination of beauty and intelligence that captivated us from the very first moment.

The connection between Marcela and me was instantaneous. There were knowing glances, shy smiles and conversations that flowed naturally. It seemed that destiny had woven its threads, intertwining their paths in a science festival.

The outings followed one after another, the encounters became frequent and the complicity grew with each meeting. But there was one detail that marked a change in the dynamics of the relationship: the absence of cell phones. At that time, telephone contact was limited to fixed devices, and Edgard, one of the friends, was one of the few who had that technology. So he became the intermediary, the bridge between me and the Marcela.

However, an unexpected twist altered the situation. On one of the outings, Marcela and Edgard decided to exchange partners. The agreement between them dictated that Marcela would go out with Edgard, while I would have the company of one of Marcela's friends. That agreement shook the foundations of the friendship between Edgard and me and provoked a feeling of hatred towards both of us.

Disappointment and confusion invaded my heart, as I had placed all my hopes in Marcela, and seeing her leave with another was a painful blow. However, life always has mysterious ways of teaching us valuable lessons.

As time went by, the friendship with Edgard recovered, healing the wounds and leaving resentment behind. But the bond with Marcela remained fractured, unable to heal. That painful experience, that unexpected betrayal, became a turning point in my life. Then I thought about the absurdity of love and concluded that the whole fragile life of the human being was founded on something so absurd and that perhaps the word could save us from that fragility.

It was at that moment of uneasiness and disenchantment that the need to write was born. Writing became a refuge, a way to give voice to the feelings and emotions that had flooded me. Words became allies, a means to process the lived experience and find meaning in the chaos.

Thus, the story of that pact between my friend and Marcela is intertwined with the origin of my vocation as a writer. That painful episode, that break in expectations and relationships, became the fuel for my passion for writing. In each word on paper, I found a way to heal the wounds and give meaning to my life.

And so, in the midst of letters and stories, I found a voice of my own, a way to express and share my vision of the world. That painful experience became the catalyst that prompted me to explore my creativity and immerse myself in the world of writing. It was through writing that I found solace, understanding and a way to process the emotions that overcame me. The harrowing experience became a source of inspiration and motivation to explore my own literary voice and make sense of my life through words. As I delved deeper into the art of writing, I discovered that I had a unique ability to convey emotions and tell stories, and this revelation marked the beginning of my journey as a writer. Writing became a tool for self-discovery and an avenue to share my perspective with the world, turning adversity into a source of growth and empowerment, as I would later read in a wonderful book by Jorge Luis Borges.