“It’s almost exactly four months”, I tell him.
I try to talk about Monday.
But instead I play Nina Simone’s “Don’t smoke in bed”.
“Four months is a long time”, I say.
And stroke his hair, listening to Nina playing the piano.
“It’s a sad song”
And he asks me what’s it about.
“It’s about leaving her husband”
I tell him and
He tells me to turn it off.
I want to talk to him about goodbyes.
But instead I watch photos of mountains on Instagram.
And agrees to go for lunch at his mother’s house
Four months is a long time I think and watch him sleep quietly next to me.
I want to talk about endings
But instead I tell him he is the best and worse thing
that happened to me in Brazil.