C\u00e2nd am p\u0103\u0219it \u00een\u0103untru, mi s-a str\u00e2ns stomacul de parc\u0103 m\u0103 lovea cineva \u00een piept. Aerul mirosea a vopsea proasp\u0103t\u0103 \u0219i a lemn nou, iar \u00eenc\u0103perea era luminat\u0103 de o lamp\u0103 mic\u0103, cald\u0103. Andreea st\u0103tea \u00een u\u0219\u0103, speriat\u0103, cu m\u00e2na la gur\u0103, de parc\u0103 nu \u0219tia dac\u0103 s\u0103 m\u0103 opreasc\u0103 sau s\u0103 m\u0103 lase s\u0103 intru.<\/p>\n
Am f\u0103cut doi pa\u0219i \u0219i am \u00een\u021beles.
Pe peretele din st\u00e2nga era lipit\u0103 o fotografie uria\u0219\u0103 cu b\u0103iatul meu. O f\u0103cusem \u00eentr-o var\u0103, la bunicii mei din Alba, c\u00e2nd se juca \u00een curte cu un furtun \u0219i r\u00e2dea cu toat\u0103 gura. Iar l\u00e2ng\u0103 poz\u0103\u2026 era o m\u0103su\u021b\u0103 mic\u0103 din lemn, cu juc\u0103ria lui preferat\u0103: o ma\u0219inu\u021b\u0103 ro\u0219ie, zg\u00e2riat\u0103 pe o parte.<\/p>\n
Mi-au tremurat genunchii.<\/p>\n
Andreea a venit l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine, cu ochii \u00een lacrimi, \u0219i a \u0219optit:<\/p>\n
\u2014 Nu am vrut s\u0103 descoperi a\u0219a. Dar\u2026 dac\u0103 tot m-am mutat, am sim\u021bit c\u0103 trebuie s\u0103 iau \u0219i o parte din el cu mine.<\/p>\n
Am \u00eenchis ochii \u0219i am respirat ad\u00e2nc. \u0218tiam c\u00e2t de mult \u021binuse la el, dar nu m\u0103 a\u0219teptam la asta. Am atins u\u0219or ma\u0219inu\u021ba, ca \u0219i cum era prea fragil\u0103.<\/p>\n
\u2014 De ce ai f\u0103cut toate astea? am \u00eentrebat, abia auzindu-m\u0103.<\/p>\n
\u2014 Ca s\u0103 nu treci singur\u0103 prin durere, mi-a spus. \u0218i ca s\u0103 am \u0219i eu un loc unde s\u0103-l simt aproape.<\/p>\n
Am sim\u021bit cum mi se sparge ceva \u00een mine, dar nu \u00een sensul r\u0103u. Era ca \u0219i cum o ran\u0103 veche se cr\u0103pa ca s\u0103 ias\u0103 la suprafa\u021b\u0103 lumina. \u00cemi era dor de el \u00een fiecare secund\u0103, iar Andreea, \u00een felul ei, \u00eencerca s\u0103-l \u021bin\u0103 viu, m\u0103car \u00een amintire.<\/p>\n
Ne-am a\u0219ezat pe podea, printre cutiile \u00eenc\u0103 nedesf\u0103cute, \u0219i am stat c\u00e2teva minute f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 vorbim. Eu priveam fotografia, iar ea m\u0103 privea pe mine, preg\u0103tit\u0103 s\u0103 sar\u0103 dac\u0103 vedea c\u0103 m\u0103 pr\u0103bu\u0219esc.<\/p>\n
\u2014 \u0218tii\u2026 dac\u0103 nu te aveam pe tine, poate c\u0103 nu mai ajungeam p\u00e2n\u0103 aici, am murmurat.<\/p>\n
\u2014 Ba ajungeai, a zis ea hot\u0103r\u00e2t\u0103. E\u0219ti mai puternic\u0103 dec\u00e2t crezi.<\/p>\n
Apoi a scos dintr-o cutie o cutie mic\u0103, albastr\u0103, legat\u0103 cu o panglic\u0103.
\u2014 Asta voiam s\u0103-\u021bi dau. P\u0103stram momentul pentru c\u00e2nd veneai prima dat\u0103 \u00een vizit\u0103.<\/p>\n
Am desf\u0103cut panglica, cu degetele tremur\u00e2nd. \u00cen\u0103untru era o br\u0103\u021bar\u0103 din piele, simpl\u0103, iar pe interior scria:
\u201ePentru mama mea curajoas\u0103.\u201d<\/p>\n
Am izbucnit \u00een pl\u00e2ns. Nu era scrisul Andreei.
Era scrisul b\u0103iatului meu.
Recuno\u0219team fiecare liter\u0103, fiecare tremur. Era un bile\u021bel vechi, pe care ea \u00eel gravase pe br\u0103\u021bar\u0103 f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103-mi spun\u0103.<\/p>\n
\u2014 L-am g\u0103sit \u00een sertarul de la buc\u0103t\u0103rie, \u00eentr-o pung\u0103 cu h\u00e2rtii, mi-a zis. \u0218tiu c\u0103 nu ai avut curajul s\u0103 te atingi de ele. Dar am \u0219tiut c\u0103 asta\u2026 asta trebuie s\u0103 \u00eel por\u021bi.<\/p>\n
Am str\u00e2ns br\u0103\u021bara la piept.<\/p>\n
Timpul p\u0103rea oprit \u00een loc. Afar\u0103 se auzeau doar c\u00e2inii de la blocul vecin \u0219i un copil care b\u0103tea mingea. Sunete obi\u0219nuite, rom\u00e2ne\u0219ti, dar care, \u00een clipa aia, m\u0103 aduceau \u00eenapoi \u00een realitate.<\/p>\n
Dup\u0103 c\u00e2teva minute, m-am ridicat, mi-am \u0219ters lacrimile \u0219i m-am uitat din nou la fotografia de pe perete.<\/p>\n
\u2014 Andreea, ai f\u0103cut ceva ce nici eu n-a\u0219 fi avut puterea s\u0103 fac.<\/p>\n
Ea a z\u00e2mbit u\u0219or.<\/p>\n
\u2014 Prietenia nu e doar pentru zile bune. Prietenia e pentru r\u0103ni. \u0218i dac\u0103 pe tine te doare, pe mine m\u0103 rupe.<\/p>\n
Am mai stat \u00eempreun\u0103 c\u00e2teva ore, povestind despre el, despre momentele frumoase, despre prostiile lui m\u0103runte. Am r\u00e2s. Am pl\u00e2ns. Am amu\u021bit am\u00e2ndou\u0103 de c\u00e2teva ori, dar nu era o t\u0103cere grea. Era una care te las\u0103 s\u0103 respiri.<\/p>\n
C\u00e2nd am plecat spre sear\u0103, m-am oprit \u00een u\u0219\u0103 \u0219i m-am uitat \u00eenc\u0103 o dat\u0103 \u00eenapoi. Camera nu era doar un col\u021b dedicat unui copil disp\u0103rut. Era un loc plin de via\u021b\u0103, de amintiri bune, de iubire.<\/p>\n
\u0218i atunci am sim\u021bit ceva ce nu mai sim\u021bisem demult: pace.<\/p>\n
\u00cen fa\u021ba blocului, v\u00e2ntul b\u0103tea u\u0219or, mi\u0219c\u00e2nd frunzele copacilor. M-am uitat spre cer \u0219i am \u0219optit:<\/p>\n
\u2014 Mul\u021bumesc, puiul meu.<\/p>\n
Apoi am str\u00e2ns br\u0103\u021bara pe m\u00e2n\u0103, convins\u0103 pentru prima dat\u0103 dup\u0103 mult timp c\u0103 durerea nu mai era un munte de neurcat, ci doar o c\u0103rare greu de mers, pe care nu trebuia s\u0103 o parcurg singur\u0103.<\/p>\n
\u0218i, pentru prima dat\u0103 din 2020, am sim\u021bit c\u0103 pot s\u0103 respir cu adev\u0103rat.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
C\u00e2nd am p\u0103\u0219it \u00een\u0103untru, mi s-a str\u00e2ns stomacul de parc\u0103 m\u0103 lovea cineva \u00een piept. Aerul mirosea a vopsea proasp\u0103t\u0103 \u0219i a lemn nou, iar \u00eenc\u0103perea era luminat\u0103 de o lamp\u0103 mic\u0103, cald\u0103. Andreea st\u0103tea \u00een u\u0219\u0103, speriat\u0103, cu m\u00e2na la gur\u0103, de parc\u0103 nu \u0219tia dac\u0103 s\u0103 m\u0103 opreasc\u0103 sau s\u0103 m\u0103 lase s\u0103 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":13494,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-13493","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-povesti"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13493","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13493"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13493\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13495,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13493\/revisions\/13495"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/13494"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13493"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13493"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bumzi.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13493"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}