The Invitation: Camila's Next Big Adventure

My head hurts from unshed tears. I’m not sure I understand why my need to cry is so powerful. If I had never connected to internet, nothing would have changed about my day. I would have gone from class to class, teaching verb conjugations and vocabulary for family members. But the knowledge and the weight of this sudden absence packs a wallop I never expected.  When was the last time I spoke to them? I try and think back. It’s been over a year and a half since I was in the same country as them. What was the last thing I said to them? Was it a simple greeting? Was I annoyed? Was I present to them? Had I even been thinking about them recently?  I’m crying now, and I feel guilty for crying because I wasn’t even present with them when it was time to say goodbye. Silly, because I probably wouldn’t have been by their bedside anyways but the thought is there, weighing me down, nestled above my brow.   Losing someone is never easy. That goes for losing someone when a rela

  i lose my breath when golden afternoon strikes the black and white tiles,   the stripes curving and dancing before my eyes ocean air winds its way through the city,   the flag billowing, red and white dancing together i step down an empty alley,   the bustle of the city suddenly cut off by brick walls and narrow streets my bus screams down the pan-american highway, passing the roundabout  where there is always a game of volleyball someone napping   a family picnicking   the shade of a tall cactus a lost dog a loose kite i am filled with love when the shouts and laughter of   my students   fill the street when   a pattering of feet and   a soft voice wake me from my nap beneath the open window even when a soccer ball comes crashing   against our house,   glass flying,   faces of terrified neighbors peering out from a nearby alley i am sad when the heat