Ojos

20 years ago, my nickname was "Ojos" ("Eyes") and I never knew...

His name was E. I met him during the second or third year of engineering school, circa 1991 or 1992. He was everything I liked in a man: tall, lanky, skinny, glasses that gave him that slightly dorky air; he was also smart, sarcastic, inquisitive, dark, idealistic... He had an air of misunderstood artist, and I was crazy about him.

For a year or so we took the same classes and studied together: he, me and my friend F. I always thought he liked F, so I stayed away. And he stayed away. For a year, the three of us were inseparable. We spent the night at his place so many times, always studying; we never exchanged a kiss.

He used to write... tales, poems, manifestos, what not; it was all published in that little newspaper that engineering school students’ had. And I would read it all. It was all platonic, I never told anyone; I thought he liked my friend.

About two weeks ago, in Chile, during a reunion with engineering school old friends, another common friend, his best friend, asked me:

- Have you heard from E?
- Not in years, so many years, I replied
- He used to be crazy about you, she said.
... I froze ...
- Yes, he used to called you Ojos, "Today, I saw Ojos," he used to say...
- But... I always thought he liked F...
- No, it was you, he called you Ojos; he used to write tales about Ojos; he was crazy about you

I could not believe it... And it was right at that moment that the other girlfriend in the reunion said:

-You were Ojos? He was always talking and writing about you... I never knew you were Ojos.

Neither did I... It’s hard to explain the emotions I had at that moment. Maybe a bit angry? Maybe a bit frustrated? Maybe I bit happy? Maybe a bit sad? But most of all, I had this feeling of “what a waste”... we both had all those feelings for each other and we just let them go away.

20 years ago, my nickname was Ojos, and I never knew.