After working for approximately six months, in one of the most impressive paradises in Australia, (Eco Beach), and saying goodbye to one of the most beautiful people I met, (Georgi), with a broken heart again, I started my way to my house, Saint John.

I didn’t know if I was going to decide to go back to Australia, a country that has given me a lot. Keep doing it.

So this time the flight lasted a long time, and I was a different person, I had a different hair and a different head.

I always kept a lot, but I let go of a ton.

I shared time with mine.

I remembered why I left.

I always thought why I came back.

I traveled a lot through my mountains, my dam and that desert full of zonda. I never missed its wind and dust.

The heat wasn’t like Broome.

Now I knew about hot flashes; San Juan was not hell in its 40 degrees Celsius.

I noticed that we complain a lot.

I remembered cleaning stores where, I’m almost sure, it was more than 45 degrees with humidity at the stick.

There I did meet the heat.

I missed how simple it was to reach people of the same language, speaking Spanish all the time was crazy and a break.

My heart beat Argentina. My heart beats San Juan always.

Beats that intensity with which emotions are lived and the affection of hugs and kisses when people greet each other.

I missed that too.

I did not miss the importance of appearances or the silent competition to see who weighs less or buys the most expensive pants.

I arrived with two shirts, one pair of pants. And I always believed a thousand.

The sandals were the same 24/7.

And I smiled a lot too, because I found my beloved souls who always, always waited for me regardless of time, perhaps.

I fell in love with my cousin’s belly, because I had Queen Amira, to whom my heart belongs.

I was very afraid to come back so different, but it was a caress to come back and to come back will always caress me.

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