That same day, I was lying on the couch, crying, desperate and not knowing how to react. I had been like that for hours and hours, thinking about everything we had been through, about our history, the good and the bad, when we laughed and when we cried together. I started to look at the album he gave me with pictures of us, of our best and happiest moments of our lives, but he was gone, never to return. I felt frustrated and angry with everyone. He had left me there alone that very morning. My best friend, that beautiful summer morning, had come to see me. A few hours later Claudia, his mother, called me crying because her son had died in a motorcycle accident. The same one on which she used to take me for rides. He had died.
ELENA NITO DEL BOSQUE