La vida contigo

If a time machine existed, it would transport me to an instant of my childhood, it would place my adult hands on my little shoulders and it would warn me that all that was cooking inside me was Eva. She was going to be able to make me feel like a cowardly wretch and a brave exultant, a winner and a loser, a good man and the worst man, half of a whole and also the whole of nothing. I would tell myself not to follow her with my eyes, not to look for her as soon as I enter the school door, to pretend to be sick so as to miss the hour of gymnastics that would make us a badminton partner that same afternoon for the rest of the course. , to let her pass, for her sake and mine. And I wouldn't pay the slightest attention. If I had, this would not be our story.