On his recent vacation, a friend of mine said that - while drinking a delicious strawberry margarita - he decided that strawberries taste like freedom. (Fresas saben a libertad)
It probably sounds like a really random phrase uttered while drinking. But if you knew that he had recently ended a long relationship with someone who was extrememly allergic to strawberries, it would make sense.
That, of course, made me begin thinking what freedom was to different people. Does it taste like a favorite food you couldn't eat? Feel like the ocean breeze rushing across your face? Smell like spring in a forest? Is it just the welcome absence of a knot in your shoulders.
Maybe freedom is the ability to hand your heart to someone and know that they will treasure it. Like knowing that you can eat strawberries without any fear.
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