Elizabeth: An Old Man's Heart

Preface

A. Jeremy Keith? is the pseudonym that will identify me during the trajectory of my life. The question mark at the end of my name is what defines me and questions me at the same time. For a long time when I started writing I wanted to identify myself with a pseudonym; a distinctive name that at the same time begs the question who am I? At that moment the question mark was born. When I ask, ‘who am I?’, I don’t have an answer, but when I reach my old age, I will ask myself again this question. Then I’ll be able to reply based on my achievements. For now, I’m laying the framework for my answers. I’ve written a book (in Spanish) called Piel de Manzana: El Grito Interior and a children / young adult’s book (also in Spanish) called Grisday: Una Aventura Verde.

Elizabeth: An Old Man’s Heart is a book about intrigue and romance. It’s the type of novel that we can identify with; it transcends the tale of an old man as told to a detective, where he says goodbye to adolescence, goodbye to the myth that symbolized his youthful love. It was a time without reasoning when he was a puppet of destiny, led by emotion. The story is played out between Richard Keith, Elizabeth, and Alejandra. Richard Keith is the protagonist in this story; it is he who falls in love with Elizabeth’s beauty. Her beauty leaves him paralyzed, and his heart becomes a runaway locomotive because that’s what happens when we fall in love. We fell our world turns upside down.

Elizabeth is the ideal girl for Richard Keith. He started to love her since he was a little boy, always watching her during recess at school. One day, he gathered his courage and wrote her his first letter. Elizabeth, innocent and unsure how to react, tears the letter into little pieces. But the brave boy kept insisting until the day she didn’t tear his letters to shreds. However, she never gave him an answer. One day he grew tired and stopped writing to her. A year went by, and Elizabeth began to miss the words that Richard Keith used to write to her. Half-way through high school, Elizabeth was in love with him, but he didn’t have the same courage he’d had as a child. His love was strong as ever, but his self-esteem had crashed due to an illness where he lost the strength in his legs, leaving him with a pronounced limp.

Discover what happens between Richard Keith and Elizabeth, and what role Alejandra plays in their lives. What will happen when they try to fix the past? Who will die? Who will live to talk about it? Because poetic thoughts aren’t born with us, they’re forged by destiny that at the same time plays with our minds. The game of love is a passion that drives us crazy and hypnotizes the soul. Destiny looks for its muse to go crazy next to her and grow old without her, but it also gives us the opportunity to know and experience the fascinating side of the art of living.

Chapter I

Diving in life is just as dangerous as diving in the ocean; you always need to know where to dive.

My name is Hector, and I'm a detective. I started an adventure on November 2nd. The previous day I received a call at my office. It was an older man, slightly absentminded, who needed my services. I could hear the nobleness of his soul in his voice, though there was a hint of past darkness. Richard Keith was his name. I didn't know him, but I knew the case would be a winding road, full of mystery. In my line of work, I've dealt with several older people, and they've always intrigued me. Their hearts are full of wisdom; like a treasure chest of answers to life's questions. I always carry with me a brown leather briefcase, and in it, I carry a recorder, my agenda, pens, and some gummy candies. Older people love the gummy candies, though I've never wanted to ask why.

Good morning. Are you Richard Keith? were my first words to the old man.

Good morning, yes I am. I suppose you're Hector? he replied enthusiastically.

Yes. How are you? I answered.

I can't complain. I'm very well.

Glad to hear that, Richard. Now, before you tell me what you want me to do, I'd like for you to tell me everything from the beginning.

You want to know everything? Well then, I'll tell you.

Richard inhaled, breathing in the smell of his home, which was something he always wanted to enjoy. When I walked up to him, I found him sitting on a chair in front of the corral, next to a tree. Did he imagine how the Pinto horse would run? Next to the golden ring?

At six a.m., amid the calm, a breeze caressed our faces. Beyond the corral we could see the naked foothills of the mountains, and above them, a clear blue sky. Then I replied.

The day is ours! I want to know everything, and I’m ready to hear it, Richard!

Thank you, Hector. Before I begin, please keep in mind that everything that I’m about to tell you is like this tree in the spring. Why, do you ask? Well, after you hear me out, your instinct will tell you why it’s like this tree in the spring. Here begins my story.

So! I remember, and I’m gripped by the worst, most torturous suffering. After she came back, everything changed. My heart was helpless, sunk in a dilemma. I caused the sadness on her face because of my insecurities; I isolated her from my love.

A broken spirit is a heart without reason because jealousy humiliates the nobleness of the heart. I didn’t notice her love, and it was jealousy that altered her spirit. I always believed otherwise. In the end, I understood her interest and her desolation.

Life changes through the passage of years, months, days, hours, or even in a second, whether for good or ill. As long as we have the breath of life, we need to enjoy it with true, thoughtful love, formally presented, and not love that is a product of childishness. Inexperience can rob us of what we hold most dear.

I go back to the past, when I hurt her. The past isn’t dead; it’s very much alive. Sometimes I blame myself for her absence in this world. In a passage I have evidence that it wasn’t he who took her from me; it was jealousy.

Her absence wasn’t a problem. I would keep loving her wherever it was possible. It was a beautiful, silent love that flowed from my heart. She was my first love, though I knew there were other women in the world that I could have relationships with during my life. However, I could never love them with the same hope, purity, and assuredness that I felt in my love for her.

Her favor further inflamed my heart that passionately looked for traces of her. My eyes followed her; my heart watched for her. I always dreamt and above all else thought of her.

At night, without noticing I would always stop, speechless, when I saw her image that lived in my memory. However, there was an abyss that separated us more and more each moment until I couldn’t see her anymore.

The largest adversities happen when you want to fix the past, but this requires travel to another dimension. Similarly, a trip to the moon is expensive, and there is nothing to assure your success. You just expect that it will possibly succeed. The same happens in love when we want to fix the past: we invest everything, and in the end, we lose what we’ve built in the present.

When I saw her walk by me, my childhood love, my imagination would fly. The possibility of love is the stage where romance starts, with the imminent chance that our hearts could be afflicted with an incurable pain. She was part of my thoughts, of my sighs and of everything that made up my body. Her name was Elizabeth Ortega Catalan.

The love I felt for Elizabeth was grand; friendship turned into love. There are no rules and time cannot hide love where it is, nor try to fake it.

The smell of perfume has the power to make you remember love, and a song can keep its memory fresh. She was my perfume and my song. The song was forever etched in my mind on the saddest of days.

I never told anyone what I felt about her. I just wondered how I could express my love for her. She was my platonic love. It was love without hope but with a thrill that filled my soul. I would lose myself in her eyes and the way her hands touched mine when we would play. Her beauty made me lose myself in a world where my soul fell towards her, totally in love. I even saw the way she laughed in a different light.

One of the mistakes we make when we look for love is that love doesn’t need to be looked for. It finds us. I fervently let love find me; I didn’t hide from it. I embraced it but asked that it not destroy my heart.

My dream was to have Elizabeth close to me; with a wild urgency, I wanted to gently caress her face.

My conscience was in love. Every conscience is a world unto itself, and every world has its conscience, alive with passion and hope. What no one wants to think about is the day that conscience ceases to exist. Despite this, I couldn’t resist diving into those eyes that made me fall in love.

Love doesn’t kill. Some people kill, but not because of passion. They kill because of an illusion.

As I’ve gained knowledge, I discovered the result of mistrust and the value of fear, because every moment we learn to live, and we learn to die. Love goes beyond that; it exists in between.

Elizabeth filled my thoughts, but I asked my heart to hide it, to not show the truth, because if it did, it would break into a thousand pieces.

There were moments when my heart forgot what I’d ordered, because of the pain of not being able to reveal it. However, my voice and my lips wouldn’t allow it to commit suicide in this manner.

True love is found in the body, mind, heart, and soul. I learned that jealousy is born of falsehood, that the greatness of our world is to value what we have and to improve ourselves. Love depends on the nature of our thoughts, and I am still fighting to change the way I think.

She knew who I was; I knew who she was. I fell in love with her just as she was: quiet, with great, beautiful eyes that reflected her soul. Her eyes pierced me each time she looked at me, and my love was evident when I looked at her.

There was a strange spell between her life and mine, a destiny of crossed paths, like a penguin crossing the desert; loneliness expressed in a silence full of fantasy, living between dreams in an immense void. I’m aware that it was the truth.

Chapter II

I’ve thought a lot of Elizabeth lately, my childhood friend. I remember that my love for her started when we were in the third grade, and my heart would explode every time I saw her. In fourth grade, I wanted to confess my love. I felt a huge weight on my chest, but it was a great feeling! I would watch her during recess. I was very shy back then, and because I loved her, I started to distance myself from her. I go to the point where I wouldn’t even say hello. Then the school year was about to end, and I hadn’t said a word.

Time went by fast when I wasn’t with her. I did spend time with her, but without her love. I was a sincere young man with big dreams for my life, and she was a beautiful and charming