"Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass..."
Can one love an enigma?
I knew I was just Adolfo's little passion when he was NYC. His real life was in BA. Though just his lover, he treated me better than guys who said they loved me and wanted to marry.
When he said he would be spending more time in the States I was elated. But then he followed with, "my family will be joining me here just next month; perhaps it is not so good we continue to see one another, no? Besides a young girl like you needs to start to live your life. Find an ambitious young man and have a family. You will be better for it."
You know I was not even mad at him. His honesty was refreshing, no games and no drama just the truth. He had never asked anything of me more than a good time and he had never promised me anything more than that either. But what he gave was class and eligance and to be the center of the world for those delightful moments with him.
I had the decision now that hardly seemed like a decision. Was I a slut to sleep with him one last time or was my decision to do so one of opportunity to enjoy the best sex I had ever or probably would ever know.
"When it come to being lucky she's cursed...."
Oh my sweet Alexia, how many men will fall at their feet for you, I think to myself. How lucky I have been to be your lover. Today I take one last sip for a memory we can each treasure.
You are an awakening to me. In my country it is accepted that men take younge lovers. Even my wife first discovered love with a man who would be my mentor in life and career. It was he who introduced us and I was glad for the education he had given her.
But here in the States you take sex and love so seriously. I cherish the way you have shown me your American life without the pretense of your country's morals.
And yet as I leave you here today I realize you have given me the gift of conscious that plagues this country I now call home.
As I walk to you my decision is whether to be my Argentinian self and enjoy this moment or be Baptised with your love and washed in the guilt of the American I have become.
Forgot that Cat Stevens originally wrote this! It has always been one of my favorites. That Rod Stewart album "Every Picture Tells a Story" is one of my favorites of all time.