The old good seaside.

Definitivamente el estómago es el músculo de las emociones.


The street was crowded, but he knew that where he was heading to, there was no people. He had no money for the bus nor the will to travel by it. He headed to a hidden ladder which is invisible for everybody but for the tourists and the melancolic. He had a former strange feeling in his stomach, but now this feeling was more than common to him. He kept putting one foot after the other until he reached the seaside. "This is tough" he mumbled as the looked to the horizon. Indeed, the situation was tough, but necessary. He feels like if a part of his chest had been missing since that day. He was feeling quite good in general, since that day, he forgot about his own so-called issues... he only wished that had happened long before and without the need of getting to this... but of course, it now seems this was more than necessary. He had understood key things that maybe wouldn't have internalized until he went through this. He thanked life for everything he had lived with her. He was happy, somehow. He had no hopes about the future, not even a little one.

He was grateful. Such a legendary pain just cannot go by and never teach you something. He is going to take care of the whole situation, he's going to cope with it. If he just keeps going on, tanking- holding on just like has always done- this feeling, nothing but something good is going to come out.
"There's no need to say anything else, she knows it by heart, I'm sure of it." he said, as a conclusion.

He kept going on until he finally got to the bus he did had money for.