
A few years ago, while I was talking to a group of people about how difficult it can be to define ourselves through the years we have lived, a brief silence formed that was interrupted when one of the people who was present stood up. He looked at me insistently, while with a sharp tone and directly, he asked me: Who I am? Then he just started crying.

Last night I woke up crying, because I dreamed that you were walking away from me and although it may seem unreal; you were sleeping, as Juliet shouted “Romeo, Romeo, where are you that I do not see you?” Do not laugh at me! Because it was a terrible nightmare, to think that I was losing you.