We have no choice / other to entangle more
A few days later I found her near the metro station Manuel Montt, in a used-book market, we walked together looking at some books, snooping on their dusty pages, reading the last pages, stroking the covers, but without buying anything.
I invited Helena to have dinner, she agreed, we walked together contemplating buildings, across Baquedano, the Cathedral, the Plaza de Armas, we cross bridges, until we arrived to Riquelme, I invited her to the apartment, it was 4:18 pm and was raining lightly.
That day we ate nuggets and drank beer, I showed her some of my recent work and she liked the drawings, we made some Pisco Sour, and drank more beer. There I knew that she came to Santiago to study advertising, that she didn’t had Chilean friends, that she felt that everything smelled like smog, that her taste in music was terrible, that she didn’t know how to draw and she had fallen in love with a place named Valdivia. And so, between entertaining talks, beer and sunset, night fell.
The metro closed at 11pm, and due to my insistence and the fact that nobody expected her back, she stayed with me. That was the first of many visits. Although we do not yet fell in love. We kept hanging out, knowing each other, walking alleys smelling of vague piss, contemplating historical monuments, palaces, places and markets. We made drawings of the Mapocho river from the bridges, ate buns, drank pisco, and I’m not sure when we started to hold hands.