Mother

That's my daughter in the water,

who'd have ever thought her?

Who'd have ever thought?

.- Daughter by Loudon Wainwright III

“Adios”, “Bye-bye”. Her arms wide open, as wide as her smile, coming to give me one of her big hugs. Little kisses on the cheek. The scent of her hair and the tenderness of her neck. The lingering feeling that I should not leave.

“No quiero”, “¡Qué ajco!”. Wrestling to get the drops in the eyes, the medicine for the “sicky picky”. “Cupe”, red liquid sputtering all over her chest. If you have your medicine without protest I will give you a “melo-melo”. Maybe I will give it to you anyway. The fever going up so fast. The convulsion. Always scared she might get one again. Stealing the thermometer to put it on her doll. The doll does not cry, see?

“Esta rico”. Stuffing her face with a whole slice of pizza, until she can close her mouth to chew. Carefully and slowly licking a melting ice-cream, her hands and face sticky. Eating spoonfuls of yogurt that spill on her chest. “Oh-oh! Susio” Mama, give me “tate”. “Pana” means “apple”. Apple juice always in the Mickey Mouse cup.

The pit-patter of her feet in the hallway. Her little voice turning deep to call “abuela” and burst into laughter. Her uncontrollable giggling in a tickle war. Making chocolate cakes with sand. You have to taste it. Delicious! Mami, I want to fly. Flying on top of mommy’s legs. Playing 5 seconds of a song in the CD player, dancing for 2 seconds, change the CD. Only song that gets played to the end is “Jingle Bells” in Spanish, it is “avidad” all over again even if we are in the middle of March. Or maybe Mama will sing “Soy minero” following me all around the house will I laugh like a maniac. “Upa, mami, ero”, “Again”. And there she goes, all over again.

“Do you want to get a bath?” “No!” She does not want to get in, all the “quecos” need to swim between the suds though. She does not like the water on her face. Spit it on the border of the tub. Let’s get out now, “no!” “Bye-bye agua!” “Lala-lalala!” Making faces in front of the mirror, singing her little after bath composition. Mommy puts lotion and sings the “Itsy Bitsy Pider” again and again. Brush her hair, little strands curling on the back. Longing to bury my face on that pretty, sweet smelling hair.

Her sweet head laying on my chest while I read the same story over and over again. “Buenas noches” “Te quiero” A kiss goodnight. Maybe she will sit up and take a drink of water, maybe she will touch my face with her little hands in the half-light, smiling broadly. She will sneak a kiss on my cheek, on my hand. Close her eyes tight. Put her little hand in mine and feel it relax its grip.

I love you baby. You fill my days and my nights. I’ll try to live up to your expectations and be the best mom. Even if sometimes it’s hard. Good night. Sweet dreams. Good night.

20 years

So many adventures given up today,


So many songs we forgot to play.


So many dreams swinging out of the blue


.- Forever Young, Alphaville

20 Years. 20 Years since the last day I stepped out of my old school, heading towards an unknown future, first to prepare my entrance to college, then to college itself. I was only 16, with so many dreams and so many ideas of how my life will look like 20 years from that date. And now that the time has come, I look back and I realize that a very little amount of those dreams came true.

Then I was dating my first love, the person that will give me my first heartache and that would come back into my life years later only to break my heart again. I also had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do with my life, the professional path I wanted to follow, where I wanted to go. I also was naïve enough to think that life will roll the red carpet before me and that there would be an easy path to happiness and fulfilment.

I was young and stupid; I did all the stupid things a young girl is supposed to do. My twenties were so much fun, filled of moments of total insanity while assuming my responsibilities and moving forward as I was supposed to. One thing that I never wanted to be was normal and, although my self-image was seriously damaged by my past, I managed to do and experience things that made me different from a lot of people from my generation.

During these years I also had a constant: my horrible eye for men. I guess that a strong, independent, opinionated woman will always find trouble finding a match. I dated, I had formal boyfriends, I had flings… but I guess I never really fell in love completely, except maybe for my first serious boyfriend. In occasions, I was infatuated, but those infatuations never worked out into a full blown affair. And, more than once, I was brought into relationships by the enthusiasm of the other person involved, more than my own. It is hard to confess that was probably also the story of my marriage. I was not completely convinced, I was swept into it by the interest of my now ex-husband more than my own feelings for him. All the years I spent in the relationship, married or not, where filled with doubt and afterthoughts. But I was willing to bet everything on it, carried away by the thoughts that some people had about the relationship, and a bit of my own stubbornness. And then I became a mom… and everything changed. There I discovered that everybody, even me, has a limit. And that some people do not even deserve to be called so, that there are some “animals” walking with on two legs but with no heart or brains. Some people might think that years will give you enough information about somebody to give you an idea of what you can expect but, in a matter of days, the monster will come out and wipe out any preconceived thoughts you might have about them. But even you might be so caught up in the situation, so ingrained in the status quo that you do not even realize that, even through all the time you spent with somebody, there were things that were not acceptable.

I made some decisions there. I had to. Broken and all, with more responsibilities that I could take at my weakened state I decided to reset my life all over again. Start fresh, from zero. Now I go back to those days and it seemed the easiest way to go. And my soul needed it. But now I recovered, I feel strong again and I reconsider every single step I took then. Life is not easier now, it has never been easy, but I wish I could have acted differently. What looked like an unsurmountable obstacle maybe it wasn’t that difficult after all. But given the circumstances, I did what I thought was the right thing to do and, even if I do, I should not regret it. Everybody has the right to change their minds after all.

That was almost two years ago and now I am in a complete different position. I proved I could take care of myself and my daughter. I was reborn from my ashes, built my strength, rediscovered myself; found that, even if I was not the same person I was before this experience, there was still certain “joie de vivre” deep inside me. But that spark is gently, slowly fading as I find myself trapped in the routine of my every day life. I am a mouse stuck in the wheel, my steps forward keeping me in place, turning round and round in the same spot, going nowhere. Until now I was getting ready for a new period of my life but, now that my mind is ready to depart, the flight is delayed until further notice.

Maybe it is because I do not really belong here anymore. This place is the ideal location for me to recharge but, once my batteries are brimming, there are no dreams for me to follow, my whole energy fades with no goals to accomplish, no future to aspire to. After reviewing my life until now I find myself at a crossroad, a place where I have to decide where I want to go but without the inspiration to guide me on the new road I know I have to take. A road that, hopefully, will lead me to a completely different point to where these 20 years have taken me, a place maybe filled with happiness.

To and Fro

I'll be stood there waiting for you, boy, you've got me

.- Oh Boy, Duffy

This is a letter I will never send, it is a confession my lips will never pronounce. I’ve been thinking and, mind me, I am dangerous when I think. But there are certainties that I cannot overlook anymore and I need to unload, even to a blank page, the turmoil of needy emotion that is driving me crazy.

I fell in love with you in front of a plate of calamari and a glass of wine. Until then it was just a weird energy, the flirty remarks, the fun nudging. But that day you opened to me, I learnt about your dreams and I saw your heart. I was so scared, so ingrained in the status quo, that I disregarded it. I should have listened to my heart, screaming, begging for a kiss that you would not give me, a kiss that would have opened the floodgates to complete adoration.

After promising that it would never happen, when I was just starting to convince myself that my obsession with you was a teenager’s infatuation, you kissed me. And you threw my world for a spin. I will never understand what went through your mind that night. I know pretty well what I went through mine. I cannot confess how many times I wished to have my husband vanish only to spend some stolen moments with you. I fantasized, oh yes, I did. Fantasies that sometimes kept me from falling into desperation. If I was desirable enough to have you kiss me, maybe I wasn’t so bad after all.

Dark times came and went, there you were again. And now it was real. And now it was possible. You felt like an exciting familiar stranger. I felt self-conscious. I was also so hurt, so changed, so trying to find myself again. I am still trying, it is not easy to recover from such pain. But adorable you, lovable you, you filled my world. It took me a few months to rationalize the two nights that put me up in cloud nine. To stop acting like a lovelorn teenager. But still. Day and night, you follow me everywhere I go.

A year has passed, all the times we have stolen to life are precious and I carry them in my heart, rejoicing on the ease of it all. Just sitting silent side by side feels comfortable. I cherish your company, I long for it. Oh, God, I miss you! I spend more time missing you than with you. And that´s why I am mad, it is unfair. It was the right time for all of this to happen but I am on the wrong place. And not only geographically, but because my life is filled with constant fires that I have to put out. Nobody deserves to carry my burdens with me, much less you.

So the last time I was there, enjoying every minute shared with you, something on the back of my mind went like a pendulum, to and fro, between confessing or giving up. I don’t know where I stand with you, you do not let me see much. I do not know if you are scared of giving yourself in too much into something that is based in 3 visits a year. But I am invested in this, I cannot cheat. I would feel horrible if I did something with someone that was not you. And maybe that’s why I need to stop this, before I hurt myself too much, before I put so much into this game. Sometimes I think I deserve the chance to have a normal life, somebody to date that lives a few blocks from my home, at least in the same country. To watch a movie cuddling on the couch with a bag of microwave popcorn, to call every day, date every other weekend, go out for dinner, spend every free minute together. But I only want to do that with you, I do not want anybody else. I need your presence, your scent, your mindless conversation, your wise advice. I need those brief visits to turn more permanent. It is so hard to wait for a week of bliss when so many weeks are filled with nothingness. Still, I am a player and I want to keep on playing this game of pleasure and suffering. Maybe I do not deserve a regular “boyfriend”, maybe the stars want me to always have this unreachable dream love.

Please believe me when I say that if something ever happened to you, my life will be empty. I hope one day I can have what I deserve. And I hope it is more than 3 visits per year.

My Way

Sex is something that we should do

Sex is something for me and you

.- I want your s*x by George Michael

Kiss me, kiss me long and passionate, play with my hair, sneak your hands under my clothes. Kiss me in your car like you did that time, when I was so taken and so scared, when all the worries of the world disappeared in your lips for an instant. This time I won´t worry, this time I won’t fear the consequences. This time I will let myself go in your arms, give myself to you completely.

It will be slow, almost hesitant. I´ll play with the fringe of your t-shirt, tease you, touch your flat stomach with my warm hands only to take it off slowly, unlocking our kiss for only a second. By then, your skin will be burning with desire. Under my dress, your finger will twist around the lacy strap of my bra, one hand reaching slowly across my back to undo it. I might stop you then, I might slow things a bit but pushing you softly to your sofa, laying on top of you, brushing my cheek against your skin, dizzy with its delicious contact. My skin then will only be a promise; I will give it to you on my own terms, in my own time. But first let me drown in your warmth, in your musky, manly scent. Give me a few seconds to admire you, to lick every pore, softly bite every arch and kiss every inch of your worshipped body. Only then my skin will be yours, warmth against warmth, my soft curves embracing your taut body.

We’ll rub against each other like animals in heat, going to the most primitive essence of our selves, still some clothes on, some barriers to be overcome. But always slowly, savouring every minute, tasting every second, rejoicing in those few moments of stolen company.

My fingers will get tied unbuckling your belt, your hands will reach blindly to jump my last hurdle. And then, I’ll get dressed in your skin and your wrap around me, while you return the little tokens of adoration I gave your earlier, getting lost in the mountains and valleys, reaching every creak and fold, kissing, nibbling, conquering my body with an unquenchable yearning. Caresses and kisses will drift and fly, landing in unexpected places. I will taste myself in your mouth, the saltiness of an unbearable longing.

Only then, after a long exploration our limitless landscapes, we’ll melt into each other, shapeshifting into a strange animal, two minds turned one, locked into an intimate space. We’ll ride the waves of pleasure, surfing together in the twilight until a last bright ray of sunlight brings us to the boundary of heaven. We will vanish in its powerful force, holding for dear life, letting go, bursting into joyful bliss.

And right after, with infinite tenderness, you will kiss off a loose strand of hair from my forehead. That’s how things are when they are my way…

Compliments

Don't care about all the pain in front of me, I just wanna be happy. - Happy, Leona Lewis 

I have been carrying a burden, a burden of words. Words can weight somebody down and hurt more than a punch on the face. Words can kill. And I have heard some words during the last two years that reverberate in my head once in a while. Most of the hurtful words I heard – and, mind me, I heard quite a good share of them – have been erased from my mind because the turmoil of emotions that I felt at that time drowned them in my memory. Good and bad sank in the storm of my divorce. I feel pain when I cannot remember the first months of my child’s life but I am grateful that some of the horrible stuff went away too, erased and drained through that loophole that protects ourselves from further damage. Once in a while I recall some lines, here and there, but most of it is a blur that I cannot even believe I went through. Sometimes I feel so detached that it is as if some actress played my role in the movie of my life. I do not even feel that woman was I at some point.

But going back to painful words, there are two sentences that I just cannot erase and that have been torturing me for the last few days. Maybe writing, dissecting and sharing them will conjure them out of my system. I just can hope. They were: You were the worst wife ever, which I heard around a month ago from my ex-husband and You are a wonderful person but you have wasted yourself away all these years making bad choices which was delivered to me in the wee hours before Saturday´s dawn by an old acquaintance. I know how wrong these two sentences are but, only because of that, they are not less hurtful. I do not feel I have to justify myself to these people for my past actions but I feel they are so blind to their own actions and interests that they are unable to see, much less feel, how their words can produce so much pain. In the first case though, I will even consider they totally are aimed to be painful. In the second case, it has not been the first time somebody tells me something like that, usually paired with an “I told you so.” It also interesting that this kind of comment usually comes from older male friends/acquaintances that, at some point, wanted to get into my pants. That gives them what they think is a right of opinion over my actions, cannot even imagine what they would say if they actually got to sleep with me at some point. I guess desire gives some people wings in the worst way imaginable. But regardless of the people that pronounced them, I try to look at them from their perspective. And then I see how tainted those statements are and I cannot even believe why I feel such pain. Reality is in the eye of the beholder and if the people that said things like the ones above really believe them to their ultimate implications, those people do not deserve a space in my life, not even an thought, much less my pain.

These two years have been a learning experience, a trip I never wanted to take. I did start it without knowing where I was going, not even happy with the decisions I had to make, the measures I had to take. I am still not happy, I wish I was able to do things differently. But nevertheless, these two years are a reflection of life in general, of how sometimes you are taken to places where you do not want to be and how facing and embracing them is the only way to get through with that hard job that is living. I have also learnt for all the lovely people in your life, there’s always going to be a couple of assholes. And that the only person that you always have left is yourself, that sometimes you are the only one that can make the compliment, look in the mirror and praise that being that looks at you with your same eyes. You have to love yourself more than anything, not in a selfish way, just giving yourself a break and a tap in the shoulder once in a while. I always believed I was not good enough; I spent my life looking for somebody to tell me that I was beautiful, drinking thirstily from other people’s compliments and never feeling half full. Only when I started believing I was beautiful myself, my glass spilled over. And, even if my beliefs are still fragile and the assholes still come barrelling through, I will stick to myself and don’t deprive my pretty self of all the love that I deserve.