"Isn't the sound of rain enchanting?" the sweet, discreet voice stammered, making him jump off the couch.

"VINNIE!" he cried with joy running to her. "But how did you come, alone?" he asked bewildered.

"I asked my colleagues to bring me here for a while."

"Come, come in sit down," he told her welcoming and happy.

He clumsily tidied up the empty bottles of booze, crumpled clothes, and newspapers. He fondly grabbed her by the hand and led her to sit on the couch. She smiled understanding his clumsiness.

"You know I don't care about the space I'm in, it doesn't bother me, don't pack for nothing and get tired. Besides, what's the difference? Maybe I'll be able to see it? The result remains the same," she beat him to it.

"You can see, Vinnie. You've been seeing everything from the beginning. Let me know that better."

"I'm sorry for the loss of the child," she stuttered. "The song you wrote for her memory travels all over the world. Some people watching my conversations, they chose it as a sign of pain about how they feel about their own lost child," she continued timidly.

"What did you tell them? That I know this son of a bitch personally?" he mocked himself with irony.

"Even if I felt that way, you know I'd rather say it to you directly than to strangers who don't even care about our acquaintance," she responded.

"And what do you feel, Vinnie? Look at me the way only you can. I failed. And the worst part is I thought I had succeeded! So many people see me every day, read about me, and listen to my music. Yet no one has ever really seen me."

"Haven't I told you before? When physical vision is missing, the helm takes over of spiritual. Of course, the logical thing would be to have both, but it doesn't always happen."

"I can't take it anymore, Vinnie. I can't stand this mess that looks like a tangle of complicated emotions, thoughts, indecisively results, problems that seem unsolvable," he said disheartened, drinking alcohol from his bar.

"I guess you seem to be part of all that you are. You know you always have a choice. Why don't you decide to be part of the solution to all this? Why be a problem and not be the one to heal what hurts? You know you can."

"Can I choose to bring back my missing child?" he disarmed her.

"No. But since God allowed it to be so, why don't you accept it? Look at you. What if it was worse if she lived and lost her soul along the way? You know that?"

"I just hate that life goes by like nothing ever happened. I hate that it's moving on no matter what. It doesn't care about the generations that passed. It puts the next ones in the same scenario. And again the same."

"In a slightly different way, you end up in my words," she smiled at him.

"At first I thought Noelia was everything to me; that we would have the perfect relationship. She left without looking back."

"Vince, nobody's perfect. The point was if you were perfect for each other. Time showed you weren't."

"Ok, I agree. But my daughter's funeral is no ordinary thing, Vinnie. It hurts so much... and it drives me crazy that I can't bring her back. My child in the ground, and I alive?" he filled with tears.

"Funerals are not for the deceased, Vince. It's about the ones left behind. Accept it and go on praising her memory. To despair, you realize it's not good. Accept it and ask for forgiveness."

"Humility," he stuttered skeptically.

"It's a start."

"I remembered it, huh?"

"No. You just figured it out. You can't forget something you don't have," she told him off with a sweet look. "You believed in the evolution of matter, not even knowing where and from whom it began. Did you ever scream?" she asked seriously.

"To whom?"

"The one who made you. The one who was definitely crucified for a reason. And He's waiting for you to call Him for help. Because you see, He respects the freedom that He has given us."

"I tried. I tried hard to get away from everything. I came back again with more pain."

"Listen to what the Orthodox Elder Shepherd said. 'First go once, second go anyway, Third become sword'. So it doesn't matter that you've been seduced over and over again by grief and despair. It's only enough now that you don't leave just trying. Be a knife and cut to the root the rope with evil," she said by lightly raising her hand to find him and went on. "So stop judging situations in your own way. We're not all the same and the situation isn't the same. So don't judge Noelia for how she reacted. If you were the father, she was the mother who gave birth, and instead of hearing her baby cry, she heard endless silence. And she'll never be able to hear it, see it grow. She gave nine months of life to her belly and gave birth to death. So leave her alone to find her way as she thinks. You better deal with yourself. You got a lot of work to do, Vince. Because you remind me of the position made by another Orthodox Elder, who said that, we see and adopt for the other what we fear most. You blame the other and you read his mind about things that you still haven't solved inside of you. You think everyone thinks and acts your way, or they do what you would do in situations like this. So it's getting the wrong idea about the other guy. Blame and criticize the other ones that you wished you to live, but for various reasons haven't lived. You're projecting your own scenes and shows on the other. Except for the set of life isn't limited to a scenario. But in many and different between them."

In her monologue, Vince forgot for a few minutes who he was and how much money and fame he had; even the loss of his daughter. He was lost in the peaceful complexion of her voice, showing signs of recovery of his mangled psychology. He seemed to understand his mistakes regardless of the behavior of others.

Lavinia was well aware that having fame and fortune, but not love and balance with self, leads nowhere. She was grateful once again for her physical blindness, which gave her only purity in the soul. She felt Vince understood that.

"You've never been jealous of me. I guess I was jealous of you. And I still envy you," he told her in spontaneous and sincere expression.

"Get some rest for a while, Vince. Do it for yourself; or for me."