"What is love in this temporal life, if not just a distraction from the pain that doesn't seem to end."
After losing his best friend to an unexplained suicide, Mateu finds himself left to pick up the pieces with his best friend's younger brother, Fe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Momo wasn't there when I returned – he had already left. Perhaps I had taken too long, or perhaps, more plausibly, he had just decided to leave without me. He did seem pretty upset after all. Whatever it was, I had gotten a bouquet of flowers from the florist, intent on bringing it with me. It was the least I could do, and I hoped the Abou-Chleihs would appreciate it.
After all, I had wronged Momo. For all that he had gone through standing right by me, he deserved to have me be there for him when he needed me.
I was fortunate that Momo even chose to be with me. He was strong and independent and could've done without me easily. He was a survivor.
But he still stood by me, and all I did was cause him pain. I was sure he was sick of hearing me apologise, but with these new developments I felt like we could finally move on. I suppose my only regret was that I haven't seen how it was laid out all in front of me all along.
In retrospect, I guess I should've seen it all. But I was blinded by my own nostalgia and sentimentality, only to turn out for those things to be lies as well. The truth hurts, and the truth Is scary. I suppose all those times I knew how I truly felt about Rafel deep inside, I was just afraid to face them. But burying those feelings with delusions of adoration and rose-tinted lenses could not stop the truth from breaking free.
Rafel and I were brothers. Just like Cain and Abel were.
He was everything I ever wanted to be.
I thought about the hurt in Ferran's eyes and the venom in his words. It should've been me on that rope, he said. It should've been me hanging from that tree.
Strangely, I felt nothing. I wasn't hurt, I wasn't angry, I wasn't sad. All I felt was an emptiness that seemed so vast, like I was no longer there. I didn't feel anything – just echoes of an empty shell of who I once was.
Maybe this was the catharsis that I needed. Maybe to truly face my feelings is to feel nothing at all.
Making my way to the old apartment in the north of the city, I thought about how I could make things up to Momo. I never even asked or gave him a call beforehand, I didn't want to disturb him. After all, I did promise him that I'd be there for him. What would I be if I didn't keep my promises?
I've only been to his place once, but I managed to find the apartment soon enough, nearly getting lost along the way. But I was determined to do it anyway. I had a feeling our relationship wouldn't survive if I didn't.
An older woman, presumably Momo's aunt, was the one who opened the door for me, and I had nearly thought that I had gotten the wrong apartment by mistake. Her dark, curly hair falling up to her shoulders, she seemed equally as confused as I did. But the tiredness in her eyes – the same fatigue I could see in Momo's – told me that I was indeed at the correct house.
"Is this the Abou-Chleih's?" I finally managed to mutter, after clearing my throat.
"Yes," she said, the exhaustion apparent in her soft voice. "Can I help you?"
