I had this conversation with my friend and confidante a few days ago, about Spanish: ‘L’ is me and ‘A’ is her, Amelia.
 
L: [I]sn’t this the most wonderful thing you’ve read? ‘Eres perfecta aunque tu lo niegues. Me haces la persona más feliz del mundo.’ Spanish can be so beautiful.
 
A: Las poemas de esta lenguaje son las más bellas. No me gusta traducerlas porque, a mí, parece que para hacer eso es para desmerecer mucho significado de ellas. Deseo hablar el español con fluidez.
 
L: Si, estoy de acuerdo. Espero que pronunciar este lenguaje mas bien, tambien. Cuando veo espanol en el papel, me gusta mucho porque el voz espanol en mi cabeza siempre es fluente y tiene tranquilidad. Es mas fluido que chino, por ejemplo, o ingles. Me encanta el vocabulario de ingles, y me encanta el sonido de espanol.
jajaja.

A: Sí, exactamente. Es una (un?) lenguaje perfecta en mi cabeza. Las palabras son tan bellas. y, jajajajaja

Hopefully the Spanish is right. On Spanish Literature, I love Gabriel Garcia Marquez (the dentist and the mayor story, “light is like water”, 100 years of solitude (have yet to read that), Pablo Neruda (on his poem…long nights or something – I have to read again), Borges (his “if I could live life anew right now” touches my heart).

I love Spanish.

I must have been listening to some deep echoing in my heart, some echo of the future, when I chose Spanish instead of French to study in 7th grade. Both languages are beautiful, as they are of Romantic descent, but I’m inherently glad I chose Spanish. Perhaps it’s the old sentiment that once you choose something, you feel more strongly towards it, but nevertheless.

Last year for a time Spanish wasn’t going anywhere and I wanted to take French. Those days are over…I still want to study French, though. I want to study many languages, lenguajes.

I’m listening to: Once Upon A… by j meridian.