My best friend was The Little Prince / Mi mejor amigo fue El Principito

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When I embroidered this pillowcase I never imagined that I was synthesizing a part of my life there. I still have a hard time understanding how a part of my life came to be an analogy to my favorite book: The Little Prince.

I was 18 when we met in college. We were classmates in the Faculty of Architecture of the UCV. He was a bright young man, well above average. While the rest of the mortals spent a whole semester solving a problem of architectural design, Luis solved it in a week and the rest of the semester helped the teacher with the class. My colleagues hated him, they couldn’t understand how he did it. I overflowed with admiration and applauded his achievements.

Due to various circumstances, when I was 20 years old, I had to leave the city, and consequently my career. I never heard from him again. I lost all contact with that world... I got married, I had a baby, I changed my career, 10 years later I got divorced ... and again, life took charge of aligning our worlds. Luis and I were in contact again thanks to the miracle of social networks.

From that moment we cultivate our friendship. Luis had finished the race and, as was logical, had a successful career. He was passionate about the work of architect Le Corbusier, so he decided to travel around the world to personally visit his works and write a book about his architectural works. For years, we were in contact through the social networks, he wrote to me, he sent me boxes of souvenirs from each country he visited, he called me, we talked for hours on the phone... anyone on the face of the earth could forget my birthday, but Luis never would forget it. He was the first call that I received that day, with a box of gifts. My best friend at work said we looked like boyfriends... My favorite book became an analogy of our lives, I told him that he was like the Little Prince visiting other worlds and he said that I was his rose.

The reencounter


For health reasons, he decided to pause and returned to Venezuela. It was nice because after many years we could see each other personally. Sometimes, he traveled to Valencia or I traveled to Caracas to meet. Those days were magical, we talked about everything... we never tired of talking. Which was strange for me because I don’t usually talk so much. I embroidered a pillowcase with significant elements for him and me (in the photo), and I gave it to him on his birthday. He was a gentleman, a prince... He was so attentive and did so many special things for me that I was excited to think that maybe he felt the same for me... but after all, I convinced myself that this was just a product of my imagination... but why did he try so hard to always communicate with me? Why so many gifts? Why did he get so jealous when he knew someone was coming to court me?... In spite of all the magic, none of both had the courage to take the next step.

For some reason, his health became increasingly delicate. He had inflammation in his neck and, although many studies had been done, the doctors didn’t know what was happening. Additionally, the circumstance of the country was complicated and the health issue was in the worst situation because of the dictatorship: the shortage of medicines, absence of reagents in the laboratories, absence of equipment to perform deeper examinations... and all this delayed his diagnosis. Shortly after, he was hospitalized. We talked on the phone, he said he wanted to talk to me personally and that he would buy champagne without alcohol, obviously, for his treatment. That week I also became ill and my neck ganglia became inflamed, so I couldn’t travel as fast as I wanted. The following week, Luís's health worsened, he convulsed and due to the lack of medication, he couldn’t be given an anticonvulsant. So he convulsed 4 more times until he suffered a stroke. Finally, I was able to travel. That day I arrived at the hospital and I could barely recognize him. He had lost a lot of weight.

He looked at me. He couldn’t talk, and I don’t know if he recognized me. I whispered in his ear our song: La vie en rose... that same day in the night, he died. My heart was broken... we had a pending conversation. Everything happened so fast! ... The Little Prince, my Little Prince was gone.

He left instructions to his mother and asked her before he died, he wanted to rest on the pillowcase that I had embroidered him. His mom knew we had a pending conversation. In the cemetery, she approached me and told me that Luis loved me, that he adored my daughter and he was very proud of her. 6 months before, he was willing to take the courage to tell me and propose to me, it was one of the reasons why he had returned to Venezuela, but when he found out that he had a Hodgkin lymphoma, he preferred to remain silent. With a big lump in her throat, she confessed to me that her son was gay, but when we met again, over time he fell in love with me and since then he had decided to change his life... and every time he tried to tell me, he was terrified by the possibility that I might reject him because of his past.

Many questions were left unanswered. Obviously, the Little Prince never answered the questions that were asked (Chapter XXVII, The Little Prince).

Almost 4 years have passed. I had never told this story... With time I consoled myself a little, but not quite ... I wish I could see 44 times the sunsets (Cap VI, The Little Prince).

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The photographs used in this publication are my property.
Photo 1: Cross stitch embroidery. (8 megapixel camera, Nokia Windows 8).
Photo 2: Patterns used to make the pillowcase. (13 megapixel camera, Yezz Andy5L).

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funda.jpeg


Cuando bordé esta funda jamás imaginé que estaba sintetizando allí una parte de mi vida. Todavía me cuesta comprender cómo fue que mi vida llegó a convertirse en una analogía de mi libro favorito: El Principito.

Tenía 18 años cuando nos conocimos en la universidad. Fuimos compañeros de clase en la Facultad de Arquitectura de la UCV. Él era un joven brillante, muy por encima del promedio. Mientras el resto de los mortales pasaba todo un semestre resolviendo un problema de diseño arquitectónico, Luís lo resolvía en una semana y el resto del semestre ayudaba al profesor con la clase. Mis compañeros lo odiaban, no podían entender cómo lo hacía. Yo desbordaba de admiración y aplaudía sus logros.

Por diversas circunstancias, cuando tenía 20 años, tuve que dejar la ciudad, y en consecuencia mi carrera. Nunca más supe de él. Perdí todo contacto con ese mundo… Me casé, tuve una nena, cambié de carrera, 10 años después me divorcié… y nuevamente, la vida se encargó de alinear nuestros mundos. Luís y yo estábamos otra vez en contacto gracias al milagro de las redes sociales.

A partir de ese momento cultivamos nuestra amistad. Luís había terminado la carrera y como era lógico, tenía una carrera exitosa. Él estaba apasionado por el trabajo del arquitecto Le Corbusier, entonces decidió viajar por el mundo para visitar personalmente sus obras y escribir un libro sobre sus obras arquitectónicas. Por años, estuvimos en contacto a través de las redes sociales, me escribía, me enviaba cajas con souvenirs de cada país que visitaba, me llamaba, hablábamos horas por teléfono… cualquier persona sobre la faz de la tierra podía olvidar mi cumpleaños, pero Luís nunca lo olvidaría. Él era la primera llamada que recibía ese día, con una caja de regalos. Mi mejor amiga decía que parecíamos novios… Mi libro favorito se convirtió en una analogía de nuestras vidas, yo le decía que él era como el Principito visitando otros mundos y él decía que yo era su rosa.

El reencuentro


Por motivos de salud, decidió hacer una pausa y regresó a Venezuela. Fue lindo porque después de muchos años pudimos vernos personalmente. A veces, él viajaba a Valencia o yo viajaba a Caracas para reunirnos. Esos días eran mágicos, hablábamos de todo… nunca nos cansábamos de hablar. Lo que era extraño para mí porque no suelo hablar tanto. Bordé una funda con elementos significativos para él y para mí (en la foto), y se la regalé en su cumpleaños. Él era todo un caballero, un príncipe… Él era tan atento y hacía tantas cosas especiales por mí que me ilusionaba pensar que tal vez él también sentía lo mismo por mí… pero después de todo, me convencía a mí misma que eso solo era producto de mi imaginación… pero ¿por qué se esforzaba tanto para comunicarse siempre conmigo?¿por qué tantos regalos?¿por qué se ponía tan celoso cuando sabía que alguien se acercaba para cortejarme?... a pesar de toda la magia, ninguno de los dos tenía el valor de dar el siguiente paso.

Por alguna razón, su salud se tornó cada vez más delicada. Tenía una inflamación en el cuello y, aunque se había hecho muchos estudios, los médicos no sabían lo que pasaba. Adicionalmente, la circunstancia del país era complicada y el tema sanitario estaba en la peor situación por causa de la dictadura: escasez de medicamentos, ausencia de reactivos en los laboratorios, ausencia de equipos para realizar exámenes más profundos… y todo esto retrasó su diagnóstico. Poco después, lo hospitalizaron. Hablamos por teléfono, me dijo que quería hablar personalmente conmigo y que compraría champaña sin alcohol, obviamente, por su tratamiento. Esa semana yo también enfermé y se me inflamaron los ganglios del cuello, por lo que no pude viajar con la premura que deseaba. La semana siguiente, la salud de Luís empeoró, convulsionó y debido a la escasez de medicamentos, no se le pudo administrar un anticonvulsivo. Así que convulsionó 4 veces más hasta que sufrió un ACV. Finalmente, pude viajar. Ese día llegué al hospital y apenas pude reconocerlo. Había perdido mucho peso.

Él me miró. No podía hablar, y no sé si me reconoció. Le susurré al oído nuestra canción: La vie en rose… ese mismo día en la noche, falleció. Mi corazón estaba destrozado… teníamos una conversación pendiente. ¡Todo ocurrió tan rápido! … El Principito, mi Principito se había ido.

Le dejó instrucciones a su mamá y le pidió que al morir, quería descansar sobre la funda que yo le había bordado. Su mamá sabía que teníamos una conversación pendiente. En el cementerio, se acercó a mí y me dijo que Luís me amaba, que adoraba a mi hija y estaba muy orgulloso de ella. 6 meses antes, estaba dispuesto a llenarse de valor para decírmelo y proponerme matrimonio, era una de las razones por las que había regresado a Venezuela, pero cuando se enteró que tenía un linfoma de Hodgkin prefirió callar. Con un gran nudo en la garganta, me confesó que su hijo era gay, pero cuando nosotros nos encontramos nuevamente, con el tiempo se enamoró de mí y desde entonces había decidido cambiar su vida… y cada vez que intentaba decírmelo, le daba terror esa posibilidad de que tal vez yo lo rechazara por causa de su pasado.

Muchas preguntas quedaron sin responder. Obvio, el Principito nunca respondía a las preguntas que se le hacían (Cap. XXVII, El Principito).

Han pasado casi 4 años. Jamás había contado esta historia… Al correr del tiempo me he consolado un poco pero no completamente… Ojalá pudiera ver 44 veces las puestas de sol (Cap VI, El Principito).

patrones de punto de cruz.png


Las fotografías utilizadas en esta publicación son de mi propiedad.
Foto 1: Bordado en punto de cruz. (Cámara de 8 megapixeles, Nokia Windows 8).
Foto 2: Patrones utilizados para realizar la funda. (Cámara de 13 megapixeles, Yezz Andy5L).

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Your story brought tears to my eyes. I am sad that you lost your dear friend. The embroidery is beautiful and meaningful. 🌹

Thank you ... the truth is that time has passed and I still miss him. The world of tears is so mysterious.

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Great write and great entry for needlework

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Must be hard having the feeling that he parted with things left unsaid - very moving story :o

Things he left unsaid and things that I didn't have the courage to say ... 💔

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¡Arriba, arriba @steemitvenezuela!

Oh, what a bittersweet story. You told it well, and it was very easy to read and I became lost in the details of your lives. Love this wonderful tribute, and the pillowcase is beautiful! 💖

That book is also one of my favorites...

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