La Estafa

La Estafa

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Oct 16, 2018
La Obra trata sobre. Esta obra trata y cuenta la historia de un hombre que toda su vida la dedicó a viajar y coleccionar pinturas para luego subastarlas sin imaginarse, que su esposa y su amigo terminarían por traicionarlo tantos años de trabajo y sacrificio llevándolo a una depresión que termina postrado en una silla de ruedas y esperando para llegara ver la muerte.
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#34
engaño
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Mason and I were close. I looked up to him, not as a lover but as a partner. He was my best friend, my other half, a shoulder to lean on; Mason was the best person I could have ever possibly met. I saw him not as most women see men but as they see their siblings. Even with our cupid status, we hadn't believed in love, we only believed in loyalty. "What is it like to be in love?" He quietly giggled and shook his head. "I do not know; I've never been in love before. I think that it is like caring for someone so deeply that you would put their needs before your own. Being in love is like being with your best friend all the time, they know you better than anyone else does, they are someone who helps you become a better person just by being there. Being in love is... well... it is knowing and accepting and believing in them no matter whom else is there. You will always care for them, even if you aren't there with them. If you are truly in love then nothing will ever change that." He promised me that he would always be there even in my darkest moments, but it turned out... that is was nothing but a lie. It was only a lie that our kind had told themselves, to secure their mental state. Walking down the alleys of the streets, to not be seen, I turn my head in the opposite direction of my destination. Footprints, we left footprints in the snow; of course they were faint and were soon ready to disappear yet they were still there. At that point in time they were there whether it was seen or not. I guess each of us were humans at one point, whether we were seen or not, we were still there. Then one day we weren't, we disappeared only to be covered by the lies that our loved ones told themselves to understand that missing feeling. We were there and then we weren't just as the footprints in the snow.

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