a good friend has died...

A very good friend of mine, Coto, died a few weeks ago. And there's something I have to say.

We may have not seen each other enough, or gone out for coffee much.

Coto liked weirdo music, but sometimes he heard songs I liked. He promised me that he would make me a cd with the songs I liked from a list he had organized on an excel sheet. I was always sending him the songs I thought he may have liked. He was one of the coolest friends ever and I probably shared with him stuff I never shared with anybody else. We always had a good time discussing about our relationships, feelings, places to go. He was always there when I needed some advice, and he always thought he could figure out things better than anyone else could.

He had just bought a motorcycle (even though he didn’t have a license), gone to Brazil with his girlfriend last February on holidays and loved it. I helped him making the reservations and looking for the best price, as he wanted to save some money for I can’t remember what and he knew I knew a few people that could help him with that. When he came back, he sent me tons of the pics he had taken there and didn’t stop talking about the place, just as I tortured him when I came back from Venezuela.

He loved the colours on my blog and even asked me to teach him how to make one, cause he wanted to be cool. He probably wrote one post… and that was it, exactly a year ago. I remember that around that time, he wanted to give his girlfriend a kitten for her birthday, so I got him one for free with my cousin. He loved teasing that poor animal, playing games that were a bit… too hard on the little one.. but everytime he would tell me what he did with it I would crack up. He loved going on and on about the vitamins he was taking, and how good they were and how I should have those too cause they made him feel healthy.

Last year, he offered to find the right guy for me. He started sending me pictures of his best friends, describing each one of them. I probably got more than 8 pictures with different guys, that I never got to meet because we never got around to organize a rendezvous.

He wanted to go and visit Eastern Europe. When I told him I had been to Prague, he got very excited and started to ask me where to go and how much to save and when to go and how much to take. It always impressed me how much trusted me. He wanted to practise his English and asked me to talk to him only in that language, and correct him when he was wrong. And I remember one time I bitched in English for hours cause I was pissed off with something going on with my life and all he could say was: ok, right…, but chill out!, not cause he didn’t have the right words to make me feel better.. but because I got too carried away. That is how patient he always was.

Of course, I wish I could have spent more time with him. I knew something was wrong when I realized I hadn’t seen him online/talked to him in days.

And yes, he had left us, leaving family, girlfriend, and friends that loved him to pieces. I hope he is up there enjoying whatever you are supposed to see after you have spent years right here.

And I miss him. And even though I really don’t want to talk about it, there's something else I have to say: descansa en paz, mi querido Coto.