Como estas? I don’t know what it is, but in my most intense of moments, where I wish to express a strong emotion, that which stems from the deepest part of myself, I switch to Spanish. Crazy, huh? Maybe it’s because it’s the language of cultures that possess the same passion and strength I feel in my heart? Today, I stayed in my hotel room. It’s 4:29PM. I stumbled upon a Spanish soap opera online. (telenovela) It’s called “Los Hombres de Paco.” – Paco’s Men or The Men of Paco.
I’ve been watching clips of the romance between two of the characters; Pepa and Silvia. Their ups and downs, highs and lows, fallouts and makeups twist my heart from happiness to understanding to frustration and back. I’m hooked. I arrived at an episode where someone dies; their body, limp and lifeless. It made me think of us. (Well, I think of us all the time, what I mean, is it made me think of us and life and it made me question: what are we doing with ours?)
We are born. We live, we struggle, we hurt, we cry, we laugh, we deceive, we step. Step to each path we choose and are presented with their consequences. Bad or good. Right or wrong and then, we’re gone. Our essence disappears. Just like that. Our spark, our spirit, our breath, what makes us…US, vanishes and all that we leave the earth is the shell we occupied. Motionless. Worth no more than a rag. How fuckin’ exciting.
We’re going on almost 9 years. 9 years since my heart was ripped the worst. I had two of the people who filled me up the most, who filled me up when I didn’t even know I was empty, clawed, scraped and TORN out of my life and in 2007, when I thought I had my family back, it happened again.
2005, I had to rip yours, because I was caught between you and someone else I had in my life. Someone else I felt deserved the respect of me standing by their side, when they became ill; mentally and physically, because of me. For that, I am sorry. I was trying to do, what was “right.”
And then again, at mom’s funeral. When I heard the stories of how you waited and constantly turned back at the doors for me to enter – your blue eyes filled with hope and tears, telling people over and over, “She’ll be here. She’ll be here” – waiting for me to come and I never showed. I can picture the moment as clearly as if I was there, standing at the back by the doors, watching as every turn, darkened your beautiful blue eyes with disappointment.
I know I promised, but I wasn’t in a good place and my hands, again, were tied. Story of our lives, huh? Our hearts know one thing, yet our lives lay out another.
Anyways. The scene made me reflect on our lives. Filled and emptied so many times. Every time we think we’ve got it all, our walls crumble and our foundation becomes quicksand; sucking us down, faster and faster every time we try to fight it.
At least, you only lost one person. I lost two. You still remain with 2/3rds of our pie.
I can’t say that all my days have been miserable. Quite the opposite, but, that’s because I fight every day to find something to fill me up and help me face another one, as I’m only 1/3rd of the whole. Every country I visit, every hotel room I find myself in, there you are the most. I enjoy my solitude but will always welcome you, here, sharing this space with me.
I don’t have the fight in me anymore. I thought I could conquer the world and fight off all who were against us, because of love – the purity of ours – determination and focus, but I was wrong. Guess we’ll see what the future holds, cuz I damn sure ain’t trying to force my wants onto “life” again, cuz I was SLAMMED with the harsh realization – that I was the weaker of the two.
Back in the day, every time I’d sit in a plane with 3 seats to a row, I’d smile and think, “perfect” because it was just enough; just enough, for you, me and Kaylie. I haven’t had those thoughts in years.
Since I arrived here in Dubai, I wanted to share with you, the day I flew in from Amsterdam. It was a miraculous experience, but, that’ll take more energy and time and I don’t have the strength in me today, but it will come soon.
You should be in my head throughout my days. Well, you ARE in my head, but you know what I mean. I converse with you constantly. (do you hear me? Ha ha) One day, when I was “conversing” with you, it had me thinking of people’s relation to God, to Allah, to Mary, Jesus, etc. Even though you can’t hear me, my thoughts to you, give me strength, make me smile and help me through my darkest days and brighten up even the happiest of ones.
It also made me think of prayer. Of how, having someone to talk to, to go to even though they aren’t tangible and right before you, helps. You are where, in one point of my life, I felt the most safe (or shall we say, SAFE AT ALL)…so there, when I feel the most alone, is where I run to. Maybe this is why “faith” and religions are so powerful.
If I wrote down everything I wanted to tell you, every moment I thought of talking to you/telling you, you’d need another lifetime to read it.
I’m on the 35th ~ 10 min clip of Pepa y Sylvia. It’s the one that had me up, in the shower and crying.
That which I run away from, caught up to me. I don’t need you in my life, to go on. I just want you to be happy and then, I can be settled. I’ve always felt you deserved so much more. So much more than the life you’ve lived and continue to live. Me? I have my emptiness, but I also have my friends. (And alcohol, UNLESS as I’m finding out, I’m in The United Arab Emirates!!!!!) I have such beautiful people in my life and I know you don’t have anyone besides the ones around you that wish to control you, who “think/say” they love you.
That’s my desire, as it’s always been for you; freedom. Freedom to truly smile again and to live your life, without strings; to be the MASTER of your life, and not the puppet. No matter what happens in life, as long as I am able, I will be here for you.
For it’s your happiness and well being I find myself living for.
It’s weird. I know what I want, yet don’t at the same time. I feel secure in the sanctity I find within you, but am unsure about solidifying a life with you. Does that make sense? Maybe I’m, dare we say it? Scared? Scared to recreate a history we visited OH too often?
I guess that’s what happens, when true love is severed by outside forces. There’s always a sense of, incompleteness. Doors that stay, swinging open in the wind for the other to enter, yet in between them, lay mines filled with surprises just waiting to explode that keep you from your desired destination.
You’ve been through so much mi preciosa. I know life doesn’t owe any of us anything but it is my dream, that one day, you are blessed with the fairytale you so deserve.
Te quiero linda.
(Sorry if I seem scatter-brained in this post, it’s because I am. Brain’s a little off and not focused, but I wanted to get this all out.)
My heart misses the presence of your smiles.
What a life, huh? It’s like I fell asleep in a dream, and woke up…interrupted.
Que sera, sera.
Here’s a sweet clip.
Just go with it.
POOR POOR music choice, but the scene kept me, because the
the sweet and pure intensity between the two, in this scene, I’ve only felt with you.
((Our make-outs were SOOOOOO much better though!! ha ha))