The Viewing, The Funeral.

Fito's viewing was on my birthday. It was a birthday without happiness. It was my first birthday in his presence (we were across the globe for the other two). It was a day that floated by like a passing thought. I saw him, there under the acrylic window, I saw the clothes I dressed him in. I saw the dragon toy, but not his ring, just out of view. I kept him company. I could not move my eyes. And then suddenly I would move my eyes. Was this really happening.

I met many people that day, my birthday. It was too ironic that he died on his birthday and I saw him dead all day on mine. We were a match that met too late and ended too early. We are a love that the Gods fear. There was a celestial war and something went wrong. The man that placed seven bullets fatefully into my love would have been his best friend, had he let him talk...just a word, just talking, no jumping the gun.

The day after was his funeral, 2pm at his high school, middle school, and grammar school: San Ignacio el Bosque (St. Ignacio of the Forest). He was buried in Parque del Recuerdos where his friend Nacho (short for Ignacio) was buried 2 years ago when we were living together at El Grifo. Aligning the earth above him is a ring of Ginkos and liquidambars.