Forgive me father for I have sinned. This is my confession, safely outside the walls of the condemnatory church, far away from the ears of the priests. I'm saying this to you, my dearly departed father, because I know how much you detested the sin of envy. Given where you came from I understand how you felt, and every time I find myself being jealous of someone I want to make it up to you by asking for your understanding and forgiveness. It's all that matters to me.
I'm looking at mother, seeing how she acts around Hernan, listening to how she speaks to him. What they have is not love, not even affection, but something cheap, sordid and soulless, and still I can't help but envying it, just a little. I guess it's the closeness, having someone to talk to and confide in, even though I know he's paid to listen. I should call it sad, but as I'm thinking of you it bothers me even more, because I've been feeling so very alone ever since the day you left me.
In nomine patris.
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