AN OLD NARRATIVE

He offered me a different meaning of friendship. And that meaning — I’m still looking for it up to now.

He is my bag man. In a simple word, sidekick. And it could stay that way if had not to my break up from my long time girlfriend Michaela. She just decided one day to end everything about us. That everything about us, she insist, were just a boy-girl affair blinded by what we think a true love.

Ok. It hurts. And to drown the pain, like every coward men, I turned into intoxicating myself over a bottles of beer. With Enrico, of course. And, oh, I wonder what were for are those smiles in his face?

That break up with Michaela is a campus news the next day. And her having a new relationship — with Enrico — the month after. I don’t want to sound bitter, but let me tell you, THEIR only lasted for a couple of weeks.

There are many kind of happiness. One of it is to resist the baggage of a false friendship.

By the way, I write this from a prison cell. After having murdered Enrico — my bag man.