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morning, silently, and her Argentinian laughter no longer resonated within the walls of the house, leaving an immense void inside me.

Life had snatched an important piece from me, the only person who had ever believed in me, who loved me completely, just as I was.

"You are imperfect and beautiful" my

grandmother used to tell me.

From the day she died I only felt imperfect.

3.

And feel that I am transparent

There are days when I feel beautiful, shining.

I look in the mirror and see my face reflected, turquoise eyes, small slightly full lips, freckles that sully the skin around my nose just a little.

I run my hands through my red, silky hair, dissolving thoughts with my fingers.

In those days, to see my husband ignoring me, hurts me so much I could die: he seems to give no importance to what belongs to him by right, by contract, and like a short-sighted person does not perceive what is close to him.

I have never made myself beautiful for others, but to be ignored in this way, to be transparent, irrelevant, less than an annoying fly, is