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la caja del pasado

hay una caja. la caja vive la mayoria de su tiempo en el ático. adentro de esta caja hay otra caja. está en esa caja donde residen mis recuerdos. cosas pequeñitas que al verlas, no tendrías ni idea por qué alguien las tendría guardadas asi adentro de una caja ... la parte de un billete para una pelicula, un dulce, un marcador de libro, monedas de varios paises, un trozo de papel de envolver, fotos de ciertas personas, una redonda piedra blanca, una pulsera hecho por un niño ...

pero son cosas que han sido escojidas con mucha atención. cada uno de ellos me transporta instantáneamente, y fuertemente, con toda la emoción imaginable, a un momento importante de mi vida. la mayoria de ellos me recuerdan a momentos felices. todos me hacen sonreir. algunos me hacen llorar a la vez. me recuerdan a las personas y los eventos que han formado una parte integral de mi vida. que me cambiaron por completo. que impresionaron tanto a mi vida que después de haberlos experimentado, no era después yo la misma persona ya. y por alguna razon, en cada ejemplo, estaba conciente de este hecho, y guardé un recuerdo.

adentro de la caja, hay una otra cajita mas. adentro de ella, my al fondo (debajo de otras pequeñas cosas ... y unas pesetas chiquitas) hay una foto. esta es una foto en la cual estoy tan feliz ... más feliz que me aceuerdo haber sido en mi vida. fui a buscar esta foto hoy, y sabía exactamente donde se quedaba. es una foto de nosotros.

la saqué de la caja.

m

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