Farewell Carlos y Espanol

Isn't it weird how emotionally attached you can become to fictional characters? Almost every time I read a book I for some reason think that the characters are my best friends and that I know everything about their lives and they know everything about mine. I have to contstantly remind myself that they are fictional and have no idea that I exist or that I am reading their story. They don't even know they have a story, I think. Nevertheless, I become attached. Weird, I know. When the characters in my favorite book, The Book Thief died, I felt like a family member had just passed on. I cried hard. No, I wept hard. Tears streamed down my face, snot ran out of my nose, and I was hyperventalating/gasping for air. It was that kind of weeping. I think I used an entire role of toilet paper to wipe away the combination of tears and mucus. I am slightly embarrassed by the way I reacted to reading that novel, but I justified it by the fact that it is incredible literature with excellent character development that I had invested hours into reading. I've decided that it's okay to get emotional in books. Books being the key word.

Remember Carlos? He is my friend from spanish 101 and 102. In each of the 18 chapters I have studied through out the two semesters, Carlos has had 3-4 'escenas' in each chapter. Each escena is about one page long of dialouge between Carlos, his relatives in Mexico and his girlfriend, Patricia. These dialogues are put in the Spanish 101 and 102 packet purely to engrain spanish vocabulary into our venacular with the ultimate goal of us becoming fluent spanish speakers. They do not include Carlos in the packet in hopes of us becoming emotionally attached to him and his family. He is not a real person. He doesn't have any character development or intelligent conversations. And yet, he somehow managed to get a hold of my heartstrings.

This week I have my final chapter test in spanish. Unfortunately, Carlos's story ends in 102; he doesn't continue on to 105 or 106. Today, I sat in the library and read the last 'escena' in the packet. The story ended by Carlos boarding the plane to head back home to Argentina, saying a heartfelt and emotional goodbye to his realatives and Patricia. And thats the end of Carlos.

Now, I understand that it was acceptable for me to weep while reading The Book Theif and really any other novel for that matter. But when I got the lump in my throat when Carlos boarded the plane, I just couldn't justify it. I had to mentally tell myself to cut it out, I would not allow myself to cry over a Spanish lesson. I could not. I have to admit that I am very sad to see Carlos's story come to an end. He has been such a major part of my life for the past two semesters. But cry over him, I could not. But because Carlos doesn't continue on to 105, neither can I. My Spanish career is quickly coming to a close; it's been a good ride. Adios Carlos. Adios Espanol. I promise to continue practicing with mi hermano.