Drink

The couch is too hard and the cushions too soft, I lie awkwardly facing the ceiling, my legs dangling from the armrest as I mindlessly swing them. I focus on a crack on the ceiling, following it all the way to the wall.

"You know? I almost died before I was born. In a parallel universe, I don't exist. Actually, in several parallel universes. But I got a second chance, that's why I think I always give people a second chance."

I pull a cushion and place it under my head. I can hear her on the other sofa, shifting her weight.

"But some people don't deserve second chances." She says, the smoke of her cigarette trails in the air in front of my eyes.

"I know, but I can't help it." I extend my neck and look at her. "I have tried to, but every time I convince myself that it was a mistake and they deserve a second chance. That's why it is so hard for me to let go, too."

"You need to learn, this is only hurting you."

I guess she's right. I stay in silence for a long while.

"There's a street in Barcelona that is always windy. Not many people realize it. Most people just walk around, more worried about whether they are late or if the wind gets their hair in front their faces. Most of them also never look up, they go into buildings buying expensive clothes never realizing the beauty of them. They go to the beach because it's there, a prefabricated beach where they can tan in the sun."

She sighs.

"What's your point?"

I sit up and hug the cushion.

"Maybe I'm the one who is crazy. Maybe I'm the one who tries too hard. Maybe something is wrong with me. Maybe that's why I always give second chances because I think I see what no one else sees, but what if it is superfluous?"

She shooks her head.

"Stop thinking and let's go for a drink."