I am on facebook. After a milonga, after a festival, after a weekend of crazy fun, I am on facebook. Trying to run the beautiful events of the recent past in my mind in an effort not to forget them, in fact, to re-live them, to put them in shuffle and replay in my mind, over and over and over. Like a drug...

I also develop these crushes on those moments where I have the perfect connection. The beautiful tandas, the mutual understanding of music, the synchronized smiles... How can I not. Completely platonic, harmless, and like every crush, ephemeral...

I do not want the weekend to end. I do not want the tanda to end, I do not want the festival to end. Sometimes I wonder: is this what it will feel like when I am dying? Am I going to be left with this feeling of increasing emptiness in my heart, the void left by ever-fleeting moments of joy, here now, gone next... Am I going to yearn for life and will not want it to end? And does this mean that every time I end a beautiful tanda, every time I leave your embrace, every time I come back from a festival, or a great milonga, every time we say good bye, I die a little?