Timbiriche, Timbiriche

Monica and I have known each other for almost 30 years. We are part of group of six that have kept in touch after elementary school. I came to NO after my master because Monica had been living here for quite a while and because we had other good friends we met one amazing New Year's at Playa del Carmen around 15 years ago.

Monica is leaving New Orleans after 15 years. Fifteen years of wig wearing, ferry crossing, levy watching, jambalaya eating and Mardi Gras parading. She left for Mexico on Thursday to come back and leave for San Diego after New Year. I will miss her... So much has happened since I came here: we tried becoming roommates and figured out we'd rather be friends, we have told each other the scariest of truths about each other and survived. At this point, I'm saying goodbye to my sister, to my sense of "immediate family" (the space where I curse in Spanish and laugh about being either lost in culture or translation all the time).

Monica's time has come to move. She has changed a lot in the last two years, more so in the last I believe. That has been kind of difficult to perceive from others because from personal experience acquired in the past year, I have learned that what can prevent someone from future happiness and moving on in the same place is sometimes people's perceptions, speculations or misconceptions of your past actions.  

I only hope, better yet, I know, only good things can come for her. She has been patient to listen to herself, she has been kind and almost humble to accept her position in life and her past. I can see bright, good things coming her way.

I know I won't loose her. The friendship I have kept with her and other women through the same amount of time has taught me distance is an abstract construction, that what matters and just thrives is the sense of unmovable loyalty, one that makes people be with other people no matter what.