The Reconquest (La reconquista)

I put my heart into the future. And I wait. That's all.

I would never have imagined you on a motorbike.

Yeah, well, it's new. I had a smaller one before.

Do you remember?

What do you mean?

You don't remember.

Go on, open it!

They are looking at us as if to say: "What are they doing?"

We aren't doing anything strange.

It's too early for dinner and the restaurant is open.

I didn't call you other times because I thought it might be too strange.

Why strange?

I don't know. It's strange, right?

It's always strange with you.

I think of you often

and I wonder

how everything is going for you

what you are doing.

In the movie I have in my head you are quite happy.

We normally prefer to have the sensation that stories

never end.

We prefer to imagine,

wondering what might have been.

This morning I went for a walk.

It was cold but it was nice.

The light was lovely.

And I remembered a walk

I took nine years ago, just before I left.

I think I needed that walk to convince myself that I was going.

I was unhappy after what happened with Jaime and

I felt that the only way to get better was to go.

But to go far away.

I suppose I needed to make that effort, to demonstrate that...

I had that strength.

I suppose I needed that, it was also a way of legitimising myself to him.

And to myself.

At the time I didn't tell myself that was the reason but it pretty much was.

And...

he suddenly appeared one night.

He came to the theatre.

He had bought a ticket without telling me,

he had arrived in Buenos Aires, and had worked out where I was acting,

and waited for me there,

on the sidewalk.

And it was quite a shock.

When I saw him there, in front of me, I think...

we both realized at the same time that it wasn't going to be easy.

He stayed three days in Buenos Aires

and we...

walked, talked,

slept together, and...

We tried to regain what we had lost.

I think the only thing we got

was the assurance that we had used up all our possibilities...

And there was nothing left.

It was really quite sad.

But...

now when I think of it I think it was a good thing.

I think...

from that moment on I could build a more real life in Buenos Aires.

I began to live without analysing every gesture

nor thinking about myself through him,

or through the idea I had of myself.

I don't know if I am explaining it well.

Perfectly.

Ok, but I am the one speaking nonstop.

That's bad.

You say something.

Tell me something.

I don't know.

What do you want me to tell you?

-I don't know... -Would you like to order dinner?

-No, not just yet. -No.

I would like another beer.

-Beer? -I'm ok, with my tea, thank you.

Are you still writing?

Yes. I write.

But I am mostly translating.

I make my living translating books.

And now you don't write your own stuff?

Yes, but I like translating.

I don't know...

Translating is also writing.

And you don't have to worry about creating a new structure,

shaping something new...

You don't have to write anything too personal.

You like to hide behind the words of others.

Well...

I like...

to transmit to others the ideas of others.

I think it's a nice form of transmission, I like it.

I also give private English classes to kids.

Thank you.

Well, friends of my parents' kids, in their houses...

And are you still with...

-Clara? -Yes.

In fact we have just moved in together.

-To a different apartment. -How is that?

Good. Really good.

Are you going to have kids?

I think so.

You sound very sure.

Well, she is the one who has more doubts, about having them now I mean.

I suppose you can have that doubt

when you know you are with the person you want to have them with.

Sometimes she tells me the world is shitty

and that we shouldn't collaborate.

That type of thing.

What does she do?

She's a psychiatrist.

Then she should have faith in humanity.

Yes.

It really depends on the day.

She finished her residency and she started to work in a hospital.

Sometimes she has to do a night shift and comes home

and she tells me the strangest things...

Actually she tells me less and less...

Are you with anyone at the moment?

No.

Not for quite sometime.

I've had flings and things...

But I've been single for quite sometime.

Well, you never thought couples work...

Why do you say that?

For no reason.

I have to use the bathroom.

Would you like to order dinner?

-No. -No.

Another tea.

No, do you have... Fernet?

Internet?

No, Fernet Branca. No, right?

Then I'll have a whisky.

Whisky?

A straight whisky, no ice. Whatever you have is fine.

-And for you? -For me...

I don't know. Do you have any Chinese liquor?

-Rice liquor. -Rice liquor, perfect.

-Thank you. -Great.

Fernet is an Italian drink, right?

Yes, but they also drink in Argentina. It's fashionable there now.

It used to be what old people drank. It tastes like medicine but it's good.

But it's nothing like whisky. I don't know why I ordered whisky.

Hey,

I have been thinking

about what you said earlier about how I don't think the couple works...

-Ah, but you don't need to listen to me. -No, no, no.

No, it is important,

because it's not true, not at all.

-No? -No. It's just that...

There is a scientific explanation...

A scientific explanation?

A friends father is a neurologist and he has always told me

that we are totally autonomous, profoundly individual.

That there is not one scientific theory that can defend the idea of the couple.

I think I find the idea of the couple interesting precisely because of that:

because it is absurd, because it goes against nature...

And I generally dislike people who are single.

They all end up seeming egotistical,

or they are crazy,

or they try to occupy their time with something that gives their life meaning.

It's unhealthy.

And I don't want that.

It's true I am single and it's scary.

Because you start to like it. And now I can be with somebody

who I like more and who I like less, and who gives me what I need

-some nights and some days. -Right.

-That's nice, right? -Very nice.

Ok, I am unleashed: I am rooting like a there's no tomorrow.

Rooting?

Root means to fuck.

Since I arrived in Madrid I have been with someone different every night,

and tonight it's your turn...

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Shall we order some dinner?

What time is it?

Quarter to nine.

Damn.

It's just that...

You are going to laugh but...

it's just that, as I didn't know what we were going to do...

-Do you remember my father? -Of course.

Well he has a gig now, close by

-and I have to go. -Of course.

It's been ages since I last saw him play

and I was with him yesterday and I promised him I would go.

But I don't know...

if you want to come, you are welcome.

If you want... Is not weird...

Ok.

-Are you sure? -Yeah, I'm sure.

Ok?

Yeah, it's just that, I have to...

Of course, you have to let Clara know.

Yes, but I can...

I don't know whether to call her or...

And, what will you tell her?

Nothing. I am going to a gig with you.

Great.