35084.

El número de horas que han pasado desde que te fuiste. 

Te recuerdo cada día, no importa dónde esté ni qué esté haciendo. Y lo llevo mejor, ya no lloro tanto por fuera (aunque sí por dentro). Cada vez que saco una fotografía me acuerdo de tus pinceles y pinturas, de tus lienzos y esas permanentes gotitas de pintura en tu ropa y reloj. Aún llevo tu reloj, y aún tiene alguna gotita de pintura que nunca voy a limpiar. Mis fotografías son tus lienzos, me gusta pensar que algo heredé de ti. 

Te echo de menos, a ti y el hecho de que fueras de las pocas personas que siempre me ha querido como soy, siempre me ha apoyado y jamás me hizo sentir mal por ser. Espero que estés pintando mucho por allí. Yo seguiré fotografiando para ti y tratando de hacerte sentir orgulloso.

The number of hours since you’ve been gone.

I remember you every day, no matter where I am or what I am doing. I am doing better, not crying as much on the outside (although I still do on the inside). Every time I take a picture I think of your brushes and paints, of your canvases and those little paint drops on your clothes and on your watch. I still wear your watch, and it still has some paint drops that I will never clean. My photographs are your canvases, I like to think that I inherited something from you.

I miss you, and also the fact that you were one of the few people that always loved me as I am, always supported me and never made me feel bad for being. I hope you are painting a lot over there. I will keep photographing for you, and trying to make you proud.

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