One Saturday when I got up late, around 13:30 p.m., the culmination of a Saturnine morning inside my bedroom with the blinds down, I didn't even know what day existed outside, I was still doing love in my bed without haste and with expectations of getting up later to eat.

By doing so, I always manage to disconnect for a few moments from the feeling of sadness that invades me this season, distance myself from my worries and from everything that I usually dedicate more time to than my own life, it is surely a medicine for my tired mind.

I love Dani, we have already walked through life for 22 years together, under our coexistence there have been good and bad moments, but despite everything, here we are, merging.
We never stop in these 22 springs of affection to excite each other, our pheromones continue to drink together, and there continues to be a complicity with our body and mind every day that we do it, as at the beginning. We continue to be good lovers despite our long relationship as a couple and our daily friction.

I met him at a somewhat tumultuous time in my sexual life, when I was a free prostitute, drunk with loneliness and a drug addict of a hug. When I thought that my love life would never turn around, Daniel appeared, 11 years younger than me, showering her with love, company, devotion and tenderness. This has been the case throughout this long cycle that has obviously been filed and polished, with the passing of the old God Chronos, the god of time.

Now we don't get along so well, we argue much more often, we are no longer stuck every day, he has matured and life's swords have affected both of us, but we remain united and will continue, because despite everything we love each other , and every night we always sleep embracing in a fetal position, I fit my body into his like two puzzle pieces and time stops. There is nothing more than love and his heartbeat, that resting my face on his back I listen to him until I fall peacefully asleep.

Today we got up late and I heated up the food from the day before: spinach with bechamel sauce and meatballs. I have skipped my diet again, which I had been super viewing since June by my beefy dietitian and personal trainer «José Ramón». But lately my body asks me to eat delicious things, it asks me to stimulate the pleasure of the palate and encourages me to forget about having squares in my stomach or having as a priority to finish with my "chichiñas"...

Could it be that I lack some vitamin, that I am fed up with the diet or is it because of my anxiety? Since Gloto's disease, my kitten, who, having suffered from a malignant breast tumor, has had to remove her entire mammary chain, with a horrible postoperative period, followed by the death of my adopted children: my cat Manchitas, my dog ​​Basi and my parakeet Hilarita, whom I loved so much and that I miss so much. For me they are like my children, I know they are not of my species, but that is not something that matters to me or makes me believe that they are pets, I feel them as part of my family, as part of my soul.

It will be because Dani has just lost his father, just two weeks ago and he is also devastated, a terrible loss of a wonderful 54-year-old man who Dani adored and admired. Lung cancer has taken him away and this past November has been a vital anguish between life and death for him and his entire family, in which I include myself. That is why I say that life has conscientiously shaken both of us and that it is normal for me to have anxiety after everything I have lived in these months, I am not made of stone and my soul cannot bear any more misfortunes, not one more.
When I had to go to the hospital at the end of last month and be there morning and afternoon by his side, or when I had to pull him out of the cemetery by the arm, pulling him from among the people, because he burst into tears, screams of pain and anguish in front of the tomb, I relived second by second the death of my father, the cries of my mother and my family 4 years ago now.

My father entered the emergency room due to a broken arm from a car accident at noon in April and caught a "free" hospital virus courtesy of the Health Service and did not leave there alive..., it lasted a month of: misinformation, anguish , negligence of a university career with brushstrokes of cult words doctorates in shit and an eternity of life lived in the hospital of all of us. He died as one of his fish outside the aquarium, drowning.

Papa Charlie ended his life, at the age of 69, connecting to two machines and we having to decide to turn them off, they say he slept without pain, what are they going to say?...
My mother did not want to report him, according to her because she did not want to stir up what had happened, because no one could bring him back to life. Our life.