It’s hard to believe, but in exactly two weeks, I will be in Mexico City. I’m not sure which is more surreal: the thought of being months away or the thought of being just days away. Light snow is falling outside my window, yet I know that in a bit more than two weeks, I’ll be on a beach, covered with sunscreen, seeing palm trees for the first time in my life, and having El Poema by my side. That only makes it more surreal. And even though I haven’t been in the same room as he has in just over three months, I can still summon the feeling of his presence as if it were only a few days ago.
Definitely and unequivocally surreal. All of it.