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DEAL WITH IT.

I once had a boy...

I've had lots of boys in my life. I've had boyfriends, I've had friends with benefits and, of course, I've had friends who happen to be boys. I met a guy who thought he was Liam Gallagher. Later, I met another one who thought he was the reincarnation of Jim Morrison. I've dated hippies and football players, but, most of all, I've dated musicians. And it was not on purpose; I just dated the guy and two months later I would find out that he played the guitar. All of them did. Geez.

I've dated lots of boys in my life, but only one of them still remains. I don't know why. I really don't. He was very average: kinda cute, smart, musician (duh), fantastic party kid and endless life partner. He was an amazing boyfriend but, above all, he was an incredible friend. You know the friend who is always laughing at your boring jokes? Or the one who is not afraid of being funny in front of your family? Yep, that was him. He was the kind of guy that would listen to everything you had to say before even speaking; how was your day, how's your mom, did you get a good mark on your test?, do you wanna go for a beer?, feel like napping?. He was the closest thing to perfection, and I remember that scared me so much at first. 

I had had back luck in terms of love before I met him. My first boyfriend was alright, but I was only 18, and he was way too old for me. Like 9 years older. Then I met a lad who was alright, but he was more like a friend than a boyfriend. Then I met another guy who was so jealous that it was unbearable. Oh and he cheated on me, of course. In my own house. With his best friend's girlfriend. Funny story.

And well, the day I met THIS guy, I was totally heartbroken. But he lifted me up so fast and so incredibly good that it felt just awesome. He was a true gentleman, yet not boring. We were very much alike, yet so different. We partied a lot, slept a lot, shared a lot of friends, had long conversations about books and literature and boring stuff from school. He opened the doors of his very own home, and I just felt in love with his family. And maybe that was mistake number one. Because there's only two individuals in a relationship. And I reckon I got really jealous because he was so sociable and had a really coined family spirit that I didn't have, so I only wanted to spend time with him, and never actually realized that he had a life, and that I needed one too. Sometimes I think that he never loved me, or that he was just trying to make it work without telling me. It was just me in the relationship, and it sucks to know that by now.

D'you know that feeling when you are really in love and the other person, who is supposed to be in love with you as well, wakes up one day and tells you 'I want to be alone'? D'you know that feeling? Well I do, and it sucks. Maybe that's why I can't let it go. And also because I see him at least two or three times a week, and I get so scared and sad and angry that I just want to hit him in the face and scream and ask him why did he do this to me and cry and run away. I cannot believe that, after two years, I still feel so angry towards him. He was SO good to me, he doesn't deserve being hated. He was such a good person, and I'm confident he still is, it's just that I don't really know anymore. We're not friends, he kicked me out of his life for good. And it scares me to think that one day he's not going to be there for me anymore. I mean, I'm not going to see him anymore, even if we don't ever talk. Dammit.

I once had a boy. He was the most amazing man I've ever met. But he faded away, and now I just beg God that someday I would meet another one maybe as good as him. Though I doubt there's anyone as good as you out there. You motherfucker. EEEEEEEEEK.

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I watched thee when the foe was at our side - Ready to strike at him, -or thee and me- Were safety hopeless -rather than divide Aught with one loved -save love and liberty.
I watched thee in the breakers -when the rock Received our prow -and all was storm and fear And bade thee cling to me through every shock - This arm would be thy bark - or breast thy bier.
I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes - Yielding my couch - and stretched me on the ground - When overworn with watching - ne'er to rise From thence - if thou an early grave hadst found.
The Earthquake came and rocked the quivering wall - And men and Nature reeled as if with wine - Whom did I seek around the tottering Hall - For thee - whose safety first provide for - thine.
And when convulsive throes denied my breath The faintest utterance to my fading thought - To thee -to thee - even in the grasp of death My spirit turned - Ah! oftener than it ought.
Thus much and more - and yet thou lov'st me not, And never wilt - Love dwells not in our will - Nor can I blame thee - though it be my lot To strongly - wrongly -vainly - love thee still.

Countdown #1 Vol 2

You cannot rely on odd suppositions, can you? It is now the seventh day of the seventh month of the year, and I am about to enter this amazing, yet frightening adverture. Again. Life is scary. Life is too short. Take risks. REAL risks. It is the only way out.

For No One (if your name is No One)

Sin anhelarlo, o más bien, queriéndolo desde el fondo de mis entrañas, vuelvo siempre a aquella noche de Febrero. El día se veía inconcluso y el destino me ayudaba a cruzarme en tu camino (el destino y sus ángeles, claro está). Planeé un discurso casual lleno de inventos banales fuera del alcance de mi lenguaje, y los practiqué frente a mi espejo por horas. Me arriesgué como nunca y perdí como en la guerra. El teléfono no sonaba y mi maquillaje se desmoronaba por mis derrotadas mejillas. A punto de exhalar ya mi último aliento y posar los  pensamientos en la blanda cobija que albergaba noche a noche mis penumbras, escucho el ring que me detuvo el corazón por un segundo. Qué podía salir mal. Corrí por las escaleras, sonando la madera bajo mis pies prontos a cubrirse de nieve y escarcha. La emoción tal vez, qué sé yo, hizo que saliera disparada sin sentir los intensos grados bajo cero que me golpearon al segundo después. 

Llegué no sé dónde, pero llegué. Me esperaban dos sonrisas, pero ninguna te pertenecía. Impaciente disqué tu nombre e imploré tu rostro, que sin dudarlo apareció tras mis pasos. Aquellas dos sonrisas sabían lo que hacían, y como por arte de magia desaparecieron para dejarnos en el sin fin de esa calle eterna y congelada. Las cervezas no tardaron, y el cigarro de tu boca se impregnó en la mía como si fuera la primera vez. Se mezclaron nuestros lenguajes y concluimos hablando en Inglés, en Español, en Español de México, en Inglés borracho. No sé bien como pasó, pero pasó. Muchas caras familiares aparecieron y sin notarlo aparecimos en el escenario bailando al ritmo de Foster The People. Tu cara denotó felicidad, quién sabe lo que podías leer en la mía. Seguramente fue lo mismo multiplicado por el infinito azul de tus ojos. Se agotaron las cervezas, y también el tiempo. Corrimos a la parada del autobús, pero no, nadie se movía. Los pies cambiaron su rumbo y el motor de tu auto nos llevó lejos, a otra ciudad, que en ese momento se sintió como otro mundo. 

2 de la madrugada. La autopista despejada sin un copo de nieve aparecía imponente ante nosotros, siendo la música y la ceniza las protagonistas del viaje. Luces rojas nos detuvieron, y el sonido del motor no sonó más. Me abriste la puerta como quién abre las puertas de su vida, y luego todo fue paz. El azul de tus ojos mezclado con el sudor de tu frente. Las risas cómplices y el lenguaje del amor (¿Amor? Bueno) que sobrepasa fronteras. Porque ni el Latino más ferviente ni el Norteamericano más patriota podría entender lo que sucedía en ese momento. Fue eterno, impagable. Dime, ¿De verdad pasó? Intercambiamos cultura, conocimiento, carcajadas, miradas. Me dijiste lo que siempre esperé oír, pero yo no dije nada. Abrí mi boca para dejar volar esos pájaros temerosos en busca de aventuras. Pobres, dichosos, sólo alcanzaron el espacio que tu boca les brindó. Un singular cabello rubio se mezclaba con el castaño, y te oí implorar a Dios muchas veces. Muchas. No pensé, claro está. ¿Para qué? ¿Acaso tú pensaste? Los segundos, los minutos, las horas. El tiempo voló y había que volver a la vida real. Pero tu abrazo firme y el sentir de tus costillas atrapan a cualquiera. No necesitaste discurso. Ya no hablábamos tu idioma, ni el mío. Observamos el cielo por horas, cielo pintado de blanco y café que cubría nuestras cabezas pensantes. Creamos una historia, un comienzo. Los días pasaron y vi en tu rostro lo que vi en el mío años antes. Día a día construimos una sonrisa que se hacía más intensa con cada espera, con cada viaje. Tus lágrimas en la punta de mis dedos, tus palabras en el nudo de mi garganta. Lo siento como si estuviese sucediendo en este instante. Apareciste en un segundo y no te fuiste jamás. 

Qué son diez, veinte días. Qué es el tiempo cuando hay toda una vida por delante. El futuro y el destino lo construyes tú, lo construyo yo. Quisiera leer tu mente y dibujar con ella los días que se aproximan. Quisiera que el corazón tuviera la potencia de veinte aviones y que el tiempo fuera efectivamente relativo. El querer no es poder, tomemos riesgos. Tu estás a seis horas del cielo, yo estoy a nueve mil kilómetros. Procura cuidar esos rizos multicolor, esos ojos de profundo verdeazul, ese porte de montaña, esa piel poco expuesta, esa boca llena de experiencia y ese estilo de vida que sólo te viene a ti. Cruza los dedos. 

God works in misterious ways

If there is a God, he sure loves me. 

Today is a good day. Weird, cause it shouldn't be, let's see; this week it's been HELL. School is worse than ever. I don't think I can handle another handout about sentence analysis with its stupid grammatical meanings and its stupid exceptions. I also hate doing stupid research and learning stupid semantic features and practicing my English by talking about a stupid article about stupid surveillance technology. 

But, in spite of that, I find myself in a -rather strange- good mood. Life's amazing, you know? I get up, turn my iPod on and walk to the bus stop in a somewhat divine state of mind. I'm always thinking about the near future, but I enjoy the present every time. I love my family. I love spending time with them and cooking for them and just BEING with them. I'm aware of the fact that I won't be around soon, so I might as well just be here for them.

I don't consider myself a tender person, and it's even weirder for me to read what I just wrote, but I can't complain. The only thing is that I feel a bit rusty and heart-broken, but it's going to be alright. It's always alright.

Countdown #5

I wish I could express myself in Spanish, but it seems that English is my only way out. God I need to do something with my life, and I mean something BIG, like telling you to fuck yourself, or pick up a book and actually learn something from it. Let's see.