Missing you

I miss walking my dog early in an autumn morning, breathing the cool air coming from the Hudson, surrounded by the changing leafs of the tall and ancient trees of Riverside Park. I miss my comfortable apartment, with its high ceilings and immense windows overlooking West End Avenue. I miss taking Eloisa in her stroller to the supermarket, down Broadway, in the hustle and bustle of my multicultural neighbourhood. I miss the craziness of Times Square, my co-workers in the MTV building, the water-cooler conversations, the after work drinks. I miss having a burrito in Chipotle with my Jens. I miss sunny days in Central Park, sitting on a blanket in Sheeps Meadow. I miss late night drinks at the Blind Tiger, talking with the bartender, making new friends among the patrons. I miss dinner at the cool new restaurant in the Lower East Side, synchronized waiters at Tabla, birthday parties of dear friends in a tiny dark lounge. I miss smoking a cigarette at the balcony while everybody dances at the last “maricas y mujeres” party. I miss Sunday matinees, piano bars, show tunes, karaokes and little jazz bands warming the night. I miss a snowy day with cassoulet in Jarnac. I miss getting lost in your streets, breathing your air… I miss you. I left my heart in a Manhattan cross street.

Old Flames

Never say never. Ha! Let me laugh now! Saturday night was one of the most interesting nights of my life. And I bet some people never thought they were going to hear what they ended up hearing. Mainly because I never thought I would tell what I ended up telling. Some of them are probably scandalized. I´m sure I´ll hear different extended versions from a third person a few months from now but… honestly, who cares?

I got an unexpected phone call past Thursday. The “Old Guard” was meeting up for dinner. Old friends from the neighborhood I grew up in. Some I liked, some I disliked. The list of attendees sounded bearable and I did not have anything better to do Saturday night. I had a plan, not a very fascinating one, but better than nothing

Lately I feel I have never looked better but the prospect of seeing some of these people scared me. For instance, I hadn’t seen my teenage crush for over 15 years… easily. “He is probably bald and fat now” – I thought. I even made jokes about it… So when I finally arrived and saw him… Wow!

Please keep in mind I fell for this guy when I was 12. He was barely 16. I was obsessed with him for years to no end. And he did not even pay attention to me, he saw me as the annoying child I was. I even had something with other kid from the neighborhood so he would probably see me differently. And then I found out he was hooking up on and off with another girl from the group. Not good, lots of teenage angst and uncertainity…

He sits by my side. There’s some kind of electricity. Or maybe I am fooling myself. During dinner, He brings my attention to him, so we can talk privately for a few seconds, before our attention is dragged again to the rest. The entire table, one by one, is updating the rest on their respective lives. We are the only ones left. When it comes to talking about my current relationships, I am completely honest. I name a name, tell a little about the last few months. I can feel a slight air of disappointment coming from his side but I am not sure… Maybe I am imagining things. Later in the night he makes some kind commentary that makes a lot of sense. Or maybe not? He tells his story and, as he says to me privately, we have a lot in common. More than we expected. Then he says he has a girlfriend and the air of disappointment comes from my side this time. But you never know. Drinks are being poured and we are all confessing. We all laugh. From the heart, it´s all nice and honest. Suddenly everybody is gone from our table and we are alone and the conversation is red hot. He is dying to kiss me and I know it. I am not 16 anymore. I am miles away from the teenager, I can read his eyes. I am tipsy and I am playing the game. Why not? I have nothing to lose as I do not have nothing.

He drives me home after a friend coaxes him to do so. Nothing has happened. Just conversation, laughs, some teasing. Nothing has happened in 23 years! We get home and, first of all, he wants my phone number. And then, we kiss. It tastes like being a teenager again, like endless summers of sun and adventures. “Eres mala” he says. “You have no idea” I want to say. And then, we say good night.

Rain

Weather has changed in the blink of an eye. One day it is sunny and hot, the next it is rainy and cold. Rain usually brings a reflecting mood over me, confronts me head to head with my feelings. And today I feel like the weather. Like the contestants of Project Runway, “one day I'm in and the next one I¡m out.”

I am infatuated, that much I know. But I do not want to fall in love. I cannot afford that. I cannot lose my head over someone that lives so far away. Even if I think he is absolutely perfect for me. That’s the moment when I get my infamous grip and let go. But this overcomes me with fear as I do not want to lose what I feel when I am around him. Therefore, I attach myself again to the uncertainty. Because it would be so easy to fall head over heels. My body aches for it, my mind is scared shitless. And that’s when I turn to him and I want to delve into his soul and find out what he is really feeling, to see if I am getting myself in deep waters for nothing, if I am risking getting my heart broken. But still, it really doesn't matter, I would lose myself in the blink of an eye for him, even if in the love game I was always the loser. I would let love take over and be my guiding light.

October

A fantabulous night to make romance

'Neath the cover of October skies
._Moondance by Van Morrison

So here I am, freaking out because I have to tell my mom that he is coming. And, although I can’t wait to melt in his arms and “moondance under the October skyes”, the prospect of having a fight with my mom really puts me off. Because, even if I am an adult now, she totally makes me feel like a child. In fact, to her, I’ll always be her child.

One sign that I have grown though is that I am not going to lie. I do not want to lie. If I was 17 and running away for the weekend with a cute guy it may have made sense to lie. But I am 35 and a mom so the prospect of lying is ridiculous. I know I have an obligation towards my daughter and I am also conscious of the respect I owe my mom while living with her. But she has to respect me too, respect my decisions and the freedom I deserve as an adult.

But now that I am a mom myself I can see things through her eyes and I know she will freak out. She will see the story repeated all over again: the foreigner that comes to steal her daughter and to take her far away. Nothing further from the truth because, at this point, we are only “amigos con derecho a roce” (literally “friends with touching/rubbing rights”). But after all, if that happened, I would have my every right to decide what I want to do with my life, as long as it is good for my daughter too. Because I am completely aware that I am not alone, that I cannot lose my head and do something crazy anymore. Because I have an obligation towards my lovely baby girl. She is the only person in this world that I have to respond to. Why am I so afraid of my mom then?

Wild Card

I came back. I returned to mend my broken heart, to get strong in the place where I grew up, where everything was familiar and comforting. And it was hard. I was destroyed. The old me was gone, somebody stepped all over it for 6 years. In the last few months in NY, whatever was left of my ego was squashed like a bug. My little baby girl was the only thing that kept me together. I had to take care of her. And to take care of her I had to take care of myself.

Back home I already made the most difficult move, to get out of an existence that was annihilating my soul. I was strong, I did it. Everybody was congratulating me but I felt lost, tired and worthless.

I spent some more money on a short vacation with family I had not seen in ages. That encounter healed my soul and made me focus. I had to stand up for myself, I had to attend to my needs and find a way to attend to my daughter’s needs.

In September, I started a job with an old friend. The conditions were not “ideal” but I needed to start somewhere. He didn’t pay me for two months. For the first time in my life, I snapped without thinking about the consequences. I lost a friend. Who cares? Just another loss. No vampires were going to suck me dry anymore.

November found me centered on myself and a new job. I lost weigh. Lots of it. Around 20 pounds total. I was looking good and I started to gain some long lost self esteem. Yay me! But just a few weeks later, cutting budgets made my new job disappear. Tough luck, you chose the worst time to come back. Crisis started every headline on the paper. But in the end, one door closes and one window opens.

In February I start temping. The company is good. The job is something I have never done before. I love it because it brings up the idea of a new career path, something interesting and cool. I really do not know how long I am going to be here but I seize the moment. Things start to stabilize.

April arrives and it seems the universe is conspiring on my side once again… After nine months away, I have to return to NY for a short visit. I am dying to see my old friends, show my new and improved self. Can’t wait to see my pretty city at the other side of the Hudson. But then destiny throws in a wild card. As the song says, Russian Roulette is not the same without a gun. Or is it?