Monday, December 20, 2004
Translation: La Cama Vacía
Resting at the gloomy hospital where he had been interned, agonizing in his somber bed and surrounded by a silence only expected in cemeteries, expressing himself in the tenderly way that (whether with or without effort) had always characterized him, a sick friend wrote me the following words:
My dear friend, I wish that upon your receipt of this letter you find yourself in good health and that the best of luck is with you wherever you may be. Myself, I can’t say that I’m feeling better because to the contrary, I’m nothing but a skeleton that horrifies its own bearer.
This letter is to request that if you’re ever able to come and keep me company to please do so. I come to you with this plead, for you were the one who ever showed the strongest feelings for me. I’m sad and lonely, and I cry incessantly. I feel unloved; everyone seems indifferent to me. I thought I had many friends, but none have stopped by to see me.
I must say that I finally have come to agree with you. I see that in my time of need all so called friendships are nothing but illusory. When one’s in good health and fortune, one’s got an infinite number of friends. However, if fate is so cruel so as to place one in an abysm, we come to realize that it’s all a farse… there’s no such thing as a loyal friend.
Having said that, I bid you farewell. Receive a loving hug from me, the friend who has always cared for you. Say hello to your mother for me. Show her a lot of love and overwhelm her with tender words. Take good care of her, for not all of us are as lucky as you are in still having a mother. If only you knew what it’s like to have to live without one!
When Sunday came, I hurriedly made my way into the hospital where my sick friend had been receiving care. I headed to the room where I knew he had been staying. Once in his room, I looked around and I was overtaken to see his bed… but not him.
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