Dear M

Chapter 2: Let's Hangout

All our conversations evolved, and I understood that M had a special talent for transforming his pain into humor, an art I tried to imitate, although he did it with a unique grace. His jokes were like labyrinths, full of twists and turns, and if you didn't know him well, you would get lost in their subtleties. Suddenly, a trivial comment would become a mirror reflecting his fears. Like that time he said:

"My traumas have names and surnames, and they are louder than any party. If only they could be as quiet as my self-esteem at a gathering."

One day, we decided to go out. Until then, it hadn't happened, not because we didn't want to, but because we were comfortable with the dynamic we had: the few in-person meetings, the quick hellos from afar, and the thousands of messages we exchanged nonstop. We always found something to talk about.

It was August 2018 when M suggested a meet-up.

Friday, August 2018

—M: "Hey, this Saturday I'm going to an event. Do you want to come?"—"Sure, why not?"—M: "Perfect! I'll see you Saturday at 1 PM at the convention center. Don't forget, you always forget everything."—"I promise I won't forget. Don't worry."—M: "You better not, or I'll bother you all week."

Saturday arrived with a punctuality that made me feel secure. At 1 PM, I got out of the car, feeling that every second counted. I had a sort of obsession with punctuality; for me, being late was a sacrilege. To my surprise, M had also arrived on time. But as I approached, a concern began to flutter in my mind: "Did he invite me just for myself? That would be weird... right? No, it can't be. M has too many friends for that." I headed toward the line to buy the ticket, and there he was.

—M: "Hey, over here!"—"You scared me, silly, haha. Do you have your ticket?"—M: "No, not yet, but there's a group discount. Hurry!"—"Group discount? I hope that doesn't mean I have to share my fries with you."—M: "Of course. But I promise not to steal the biggest ones... just the ones closest to me. It's a matter of survival!"

In that instant, a breeze of relief passed over me. "Phew, what a relief. We're in a group. It wouldn't be weird if he invited me just for myself... I think." But in the next second, the calm faded. "Group?"

I looked around, searching for any sign of that group he was talking about, but there was no one I recognized. My heart began to beat loudly, a drum resonating in my ears. What group was that? Was there someone else going to show up? Or, worse yet... had I been dragged into a game whose rules I didn't know?

Before I could ask the question, M looked at me with that enigmatic smile, one that seemed to hide secrets, as if he knew something I didn't. It was as if I had suddenly crossed an invisible line, a threshold into unknown territory where jokes intertwined with hidden truths. And there, in that silent connection, I began to wonder: what lay beyond the laughter and jokes? Was there something waiting to be discovered, something hiding in the shadows of his humor?