Love, maybe.

And so suddenly. I had pictured this moment in my mind a few times,  imagined it painfully in the times when I realized there was no solution and it was going to happen either I wanted it or not. Because we had to be realistic, we both had plans, plans made before we met each other, plans that were not going to change. For that reason I had played our breakup in my mind like the ugly scene in the movie I just had to endure. But I had never pictured this scenario. We both lying in a bed, me completely unprepared, and he saying the ugliest words I had ever heard in my life.

"I don't think this is working"

And just like that I could feel something in me dying. Seriously, I'm not being overly dramatic trying to say my heart or soul were dying. It was me; the me I had become in the last two months was dying. Her last breaths tried to change his mind promising improvement and change but it didn't work, his stubbornness and his lack of desire to give me a second chance were choking the new me. She was so fragile, so open, so needy. So stupidly in love, up to the point of blindness. She hadn't seen this coming at all, she was as unprepared as it gets. I had to step up for her, if I didn't the pillow would probably become wet with tears and that would be embarrassing (as if practically begging for a second chance wasn't pathetic enough). 

I managed to trade the pain for anger, pushed myself out of the bed and reached for my clothes in the dark. I had barely unpacked my bag, perfect, it took me less than two minutes to clear the room from my stuff and leave that room forever. 

That was the last time I was in his bedroom.

He asked me where was I going and if I wanted a ride, but I didn't want his politeness, in fact it just fed my anger. 

"I just need to get out of here, I just need to leave" I replied sharply.

Then, in second of weakness (because she was weak in my eyes, she was me but at the same time she was s completely different person, a person I wasn't sure I approved of entirely), the new me made one last appearance for him as I kneeled down next to him, caressed his cheek softly and muttered "I'm sorry".

There was nothing else to be said.

My old self grew stronger from that day on. I cried the pain out of my body for the next few days, if someone would have told me this was how I'd be spending one of my last weekends in Vail I wouldn't have believed it and get pissed for being called a pussy. As my old self took over, washing away any remains of the new me that had been born but would never grow, I decided I would hate him for this. Because it was his fault. He had made me need him so much, calling me his girlfriend even after I had told him I wasn't the relationship type. Giving me gifts that made me uncomfortably warm inside, and then melted me with his fucking sweetness. He had been too good, I hadn't. I would hate him for that. And for that awful breakup that didn't fit my script. Ugh, just when I thought he was boringly safe he had to get out of character and do this to me. He would know my rage, I would show him just how much hate I had boiling for him...

But I miss him so, so much.

Shit. Yes, my old self was taking over but that didn't mean the previous host of my body was already dead. She was still hanging in there, surprisingly strong for such a weak creature. She wanted to see him, to be his friend at least. Her heart still jumped when he entered a room or when someone said his name.

Louie.

Why did he have to have such a sweet name? It just pissed me off, how could I insult someone with that name? I knew that even after I had eradicated her from my system her desire to approach him again would just linger in me for a while and it would be hard to ignore, so I decided to grant her one last wish, a going away present you could say.

So, a week after the breakup, I told him I wanted to talk to him after work. I made Nico remind him of this, I didn't have the balls to say it twice. I expressed my desire to remain friends just as he had suggested the day he broke up with me. He was cold, unusually cold to me. I started rambling about how Florence+The machine made me sad because it reminded me of happier days (I talk shit when I'm nervous) and his body stiffened and he said in a tone as cold as ice:

"I don't  want to be your boyfriend. I just want to be your friend"

You won't make any friends with that fucked up attitude I though coolly. Another part of me was holding tears and feeling miserable, I ignored that part. 

"Oh no" I pretended astonishment "I don't want to get back together, no. I was just saying I want us to be friends, like you said"

His face relaxed a bit. Woah, seriously? Did the idea of being with me really repulsed him that much? Asshole. The new me was torn between hiding in the bathroom and cry or grab him by the collar and demand for an explanation for his attitude. What did I do to make you hate me that much? What can I do to repair all of this? What happened to us?!

Shut up! 

The new me curled in a corner of my mind, subdued by my old self who was afraid of showing any emotions at that moment. I pulled myself together and managed to give him what I hoped was a sweet smile. That seemed to soften him a little and we walked to the bus stop together. It was a crappy first conversation, coldness still dripping rom him while I talked about things that didn't even interest me. It was very much like the last time we had walked that bridge together, the day we broke up, except he didn't try to pretend warmness this time, and I faked mine all the time.

I hoped this masochistic action towards my pride was enough for her. My pride hurt. I wanted to break things. As soon as I got home I tried to shrug it off and relax, it was a Wednesday after all, White trash Wednesday, and I had been out of the clubs for too long, it was time to go back.

That night I ended up sleeping at a boy's room. Not in his bed luckily, alcohol hadn't trashed ne that bad, but I still made out with him in front of everyone at the bar. Apparently. Because, to be honest, I don't remember a damn thing. 

I went straight to work the next morning, didn't even woke him up. Louie wasn't there. What could I have said anyway? 

"Hello, new friend, guess where I woke up this morning?"

Nah. As much as I would have loved to tell him that it wasn't the right thing, probably better if nobody found out anyway. Who was I kidding, this was Vail and everyone knew everything. Everyone, but him.

"La muerte es sólo un pensamiento, nada más, nada más..."

Me acuerdo de que cuando era una niña, mi hermano y yo pasábamos todos los veranos en la casa de nuestros abuelos en la playa. Ellos tenían una casa en San Bartolo y ninguna otra cosa que hacer que pasar tiempo con sus nietos. Nuestra madre nos llevaba a la playa los domingos en la noche y regresaba por nosotros los sábados en la mañana para pasar el fin de semana con nuestros padres e ir al dentista y a mis clases de arte.

La casa de nuestros abuelos tenía muebles antiguos y emanaba un tenue olor a mar. También había un perro, un cocker negro llamado Mota que vivía en la terraza. La primera vez que lo vi alguien me dijo que ya estaba muy viejo y que no le quedaba mucho tiempo. No era verdad. Yo jugué con ese perro por más de 7 años hasta que un día fui a visitar a mis abuelos y me di cuenta de que la terraza estaba vacía.

Todos los días eran iguales. Me levantaba a las 11 de la mañana y cuando bajaba las escaleras siempre encontraba a mi abuelo leyendo su periódico, siempre en el sofá pegado a la ventana. Tomaba mi desayuno con mi tía Patty y mi prima María, quien tenía 6 años más que yo. No le caía muy bien, hasta el momento en el que nací ella había sido la menor de los nietos y la más engreída, luego vine yo y cambié todo. Sí, tenía razones para resentirme, pero por suerte eso cambiaría con el paso de los años. Después de desayunar íbamos a la playa con mi tía, quien siempre le compraba helados al mismo heladero que se llamaba Martín y conocía mi casa, así que podíamos pedirle fiado todos los helados que quisiéramos y luego mi abuelo los pagaría. Él nunca se negaba a cumplirnos un capricho, a ninguno de sus nietos. Cuando mi tía no estaba, nos llevaba al club Náutico, donde había una balsa. Yo tenía miedo de nadar en aquellas aguas verdosas y saladas, así que me quedaba en la piscina con mi abuela y mi hermano, pero mi abuelo amaba el mar y siempre nadaba hasta la balsa y podía quedarse horas bronceándose en aquel cuadradito de madera en medio de las olas. Cuando regresaba a la orilla, subía las escaleras y su cadena de plata brillaba al sol, se veía muy joven y atlético a pesar de que entonces ya tenía como sesenta años. Mi abuelo tenía una gran cruz de plata en su cadena, y cuando nos dejó, mi abuela me regaló la cadenita, pero nunca pudo encontrar la cruz.

Después de los largos días en la playa regresábamos a la casa y almorzábamos. Después, todos veíamos Mi Bella Genio y Encantada en la televisión. En ese entonces aún no llegaba el cable a la playa, así que todos los días veíamos los mismos programas. También jugaba a las cartas con mi abuela y sus amigas, y como ella ama los crucigramas, a veces la ayudaba con las palabras en inglés. Era lo único con lo que podía ayudarla, ni siquiera ahora con secundaria completa y un año de universidad podría ganarle en los crucigramas. Mi abuela tiene pocos pasatiempos, pero en los pocos que tiene es muy, muy buena.

Pasaron los años hasta que un día mi abuela me presentó a las nietas de su mejor amiga y dejé de pasar las tardes en la casa para salir con ellas. Con mis nuevas amigas conocí a muchas personas de mi edad y los días quedarme a ver televisión y nadar en la piscina sólo con mi abuela y mi hermano terminaron, pero tendré por siempre los recuerdos de esos días cálidos y tranquilos, cuando no tenía absolutamente nada que hacer, y era feliz sin saberlo.

Te amo (no te la creas, yo sólo amo a mi perro)

La vida, antes y después de que las hormonas tengan una orgía en tu cerebro.




The sky is so delightfully orange, so delightfully soft, so delightfully eatable.

The sky is a freaking chizito, see what I mean?

I swear, honey, that if I only knew how to love, you´d be the sun in my mornings and I´d be the moon in your darkest night.

But don’t expect much, I feel, but never act on it; just ask my parents, whom I love very much but they have NO clue.

I can hear you in the silence of a park, I can taste your mouth in the clouds, I can see your eyes in the black sky.

Actually, those are just stars, and your eyes could hardly compare to the beauty of a dying ball of shining gas; but, ok, let’s say I DO see your eyes in the black sky.

Maybe one day I´ll open the box in my chest and give you the remains of what was once a beating heart. Will you keep them or burn them? That’s the part that makes me shiver, honey, not knowing what you will do.

You know what also makes me shiver? Your coldness. I mean, I’m baring my soul here and you’re just reading it like if they were the news, come on!

My hair is dancing like the leaves in the trees, like the promises we made in silence, like the question that no one dares to utter.

This may kill the romanticism but I’m just gonna say it: you love me or what?

It’s just that when our fingers intertwine I’m torn in two. Take or give? Take away the bliss form my soul, or give you every piece of myself, even the useless broken ones.

Just in case it´s not yet clear, I’m broken inside. It´s some oblivious teenager’s fault, he probably has no idea of what he did to me. But, you know me, always keen to take a bullet in the chest for a hot guy!

I don’t want to share. I don’t want to lose. I don’t want you to go…

I know I’m starting to sound a little psycho, but love is what it is, you have to embrace the insanity if you want the real thing. Which is: … seeing me naked?

But I don’t want to stay

I have no clue of what could make me happy.  I thought it could be you, but I think I’m just gonna go ask a prescription for Prozac.

I hate feelings.

Pero los extraño.

Drizzle and Hurricane

"I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane."

- John Green, Looking for Alaska.

Dj failure

Musica.

No, no sé qué es el amor, ¿se come?

Inhala la esencia marina, exhala nubes terrenales. Luego bota el cigarrillo y toma mi mano.

Caminemos por el malecón desértico, ¿no los oyes? Los murmullos de los sueños que terminaron en la playa, arrastrados por el mar. Los nombres en la arena de dos amantes que ya no lo son se lamentan con cada ola que los desvanece un poco más. Un punto brillante en el horizonte se apaga poco a poco. Cómo quisiera tenerlo entre mis dedos, meterlo en una caja, ponerle un lazo rojo y hacerlo tuyo.

Significas una puesta de sol para mí.

En la arena hay un historial de la mañana. Aquel castillo fue levantado por un padre y su hija con objetos que encontraron bajo la arena. Aquellas pisadas fueron hechas por una viejecilla que  le sonreía al mar y renegaba a los bañistas. Aquel hueco lo excavó un niño que juró que llegaría a China y escribiría sus propias galletas de la fortuna.

Aquellos trazos en la arena son nuestros. Son sentimientos y promesa. Yo los escribí para ti, y tú los leíste y escribiste los tuyos.

Ahora siéntate conmigo y, como muchos otros antes de nosotros, miremos la puesta de sol mientras las olas borran nuestras palabras de la arena.

Son las 3am, déjenme ser

Estoy perdiendo la cabeza.
Son las dos de la mañana.
(Y algo más)
¿Por qué sigo pensando en algo que no pasó?
¿Por qué desearía que hubiera sucedido?

Alguna vez me dijeron
"No te enamores del amor"
Sabio emisor, receptor idiota
Está de más decir que me llegó al ovario

Estoy enamorada
Sí, lo estoy
De alguien sin rostro y sin nombre
Sin sexo y sin personalidad
De "algo"

No, no es un consolador
No tengo uno y espero no terminar como una solterona cuarentona que debe recurrir a ellos
Realmente lo espero

Estoy enamorada de algo que nunca he visto
Que nunca he sentido
Lo amo porque no lo conozco
Lo amo porque me mantiene en suspenso
Esperando con ansias
"algo"

Déjame decirte una cosa:
Un "casi" es una novela en mi cabeza.
Dos labios que se apartan sin haber estado juntos
Dos miradas que se desvían tras unos segundos
Toda esa cursilería, los juegos sutiles, el no saber...


A mí me encantan las sorpresas.