I spent that one day with that one girl. One day.
One day of watching the rise and fall of her sleep under the rolling clouds in that park and feeling so peaceful that I fell asleep myself.
One day of being under her protection - I can still feel the grasp of her hand as we flew through the streets after she threw the book at the skinheads, her grip so strong that it felt like we were one person, not two.
One day of being the beneficiary of her strange generosity the barge ride, the watch, that honesty, her willingness to show fear, her willingness to show courage.
It was like she gave me her whole self, and somehow as a result, I gave her more of myself than I even realized there was to give. But then she was gone.
And only after I’d been filled up by her, by that day, did I understand how empty I really was.
Quede exactamente igual que al final del primer libro: Queriendo más.