One more day...one more time.

Monday night, I celebrated the end of my exams (I got all 9s and 10s) by seeing Wolfang for what I feared would be the last time. As my treat to him (since he had been paying for me the entire month), I took him to Cafe Futbol, where we ate churros con chocolate and their exquisite ice cream -- and I insisted on paying. As had become tradition, we then wandered to another park, where we talked late into the evening. Not that our conversations have ever been superficial...but this one (probably because it was my last night?) rapidly delved much deeper than many in the past -- covering hopes and dreams, doubts and fears, and other expansive topics. I...can't really describe any of it here, and do it justice. (My full journal has a more detailed account...but believe it or not, I do like to be slightly guarded about deep emotional experiences, and dumping it into the public domain of the internet would, I feel, violate the memory). Suffice it to say that such a conversation, with one of the most faithful Mormon boys I've ever met, was...amazing. My Spanish still isn't great -- but it was good enough for this, and where I faltered, the Spirit made up the difference.

While walking me home, Wolfang didn't seem to like the idea of this night being our last, either. So he enquired of my schedule for the following day -- it was relatively open; I had classes, but they were optional, and only for 15 minutes, to get my grades -- so he said he'd call me in the afternoon so we could say goodbye.