My mom sent me to english classes when I was nine. I hated it. I quit a year later.
My mom sent me to english classes when I was fourteen. I hated it. But couldn’t quit.
I became an english teacher when I was eighteen. I hated it, as soon as I could, I quit.
I started reading literature in english when I was twenty. I loved it and couldn’t quit.
This semester I’m teaching Modern Literature and Art History. Yup, I’m teaching both classes in english. I love my classes, I wouldn’t quit.
This language is in my life, again. And i have finally understood, it loves me, it seems el muy necio just can’t quit.