Nothing changes, always he himself face in front of the mirror, perhaps a little older, until could say that the time seated to him well. What it is not possible to be denied is the sadness glance that it has. Everything has been going back behind schedule to one for years, when she, the owner of her world, decided that no longer she would be it more. All he I give myself to the abandonment, their desire to live were not the same ones and its body today passes invoice to him for that reason. In vain their friends tried to remove it from that underground world in which he moves, as if the life weighed to him as much that it surrenders to each step. Always he was safe of itself, or at least he pretended it of a form in which nobody realized its truth, or rather, of his lie.