Once upon a time...
I. Let there be light
I was born in the midst of tragic and sad environment, you could say that my birth gave my family and especially my mom: hope. Something to cling onto, a way for her to start again, a new beginning. My mom gave birth to me the day before her birthday and a month after my dad's death.
I had a lot of weight on my shoulders before I was even born, somehow that weight kept getting heavier and bigger as the years went by, although I didn't notice it until my teenage years.
My mom met my dad when she worked in a tollbooth as cashier, his name like my grandpa's and mine; was the same. My dad was a police officer and back in the early years, he worked in the road, like the cops you see in the movies with big round sunglasses and ridiculously big motorcycles. Anyway, my dad was a flirt, a Casanova if you will. Naturally he hit on my mom several times; since they worked close to each other he would bring her food and invite her out on dates frequently.
My dad was a married man, his wife was a decade older than him and that seemed to weigh on him, he went for a younger prospect. Even though he had a son with his wife, he decided to abandon her for my mom. He took a decision that impacted two families in very powerful and different ways.
My mom was hated by my father's ex-wife as a result of his acts, he never divorced her nor he married my mom. My father's family loved my mother, they quickly grew fond of her, and even preferred her over my dad's previous choice.
As time went by and their relationship grew, my dad built a house for us and even a small venue where we sold ice-cream. Dad was really popular in our neighbourhood, he used to take all the kids out to play sports, he was involved in the community and loved to help those around him. Everyone knew who he was, he probably had a beer with every guy in the vicinity. They respected and loved him.
MOM
It was January of 1994 when the life changing event happened, my mom's partner passed away in a tragic, traffic accident before they could ever get married or be together for my mom's labour.
I imagine this must have been the hardest thing my mother has ever gone through, she was the supporter of her family, she sent money and anything of use to her parents in the farm she grew up. Suddenly, the supporter lost all her support, the companion she relied on and turned to when she needed to.
Eight months into pregnancy and this happened, one month later she found herself giving birth to a tiny little boy whose very countenance resembled the person she just had lost.
ME
II. Early years
This boy grew up in a loving environment, everyone wanted to hold him or spend time with him. He was really quiet and barely shaken by something. He was never loud, talkative nor sad.
As my family says, I always had a smile on my face and rarely cried, and if I did, it would be for something as silly as discovering the ocean, riding a donkey or dropping my Cheetos in the floor. Now we all can agree that last one is a tragedy.
I never really understood the following until a few months ago, it hit me only when I fell in love.
My mom almost involuntarily emasculated me. Allow me to elaborate, I was generally a healthy kid who as time passed, became very unhealthy. The reasons were lack of exercise, bad diet and a sedentary lifestyle. The reasons behind the reasons were fear of me getting hurt while playing sports, giving in to my whims and spoiling me with junk food since I was the only child.
My mom was very permissive with some things and extremely strict with others. But everything she did, she did it for love, for a better future and a safe one for me. She never wanted to lose me, she had already lost my dad, I was all that was left for her.
My mom turned to God when my dad passed, thus I was born in a Christian household. We moved from church to church until we found one close enough to us that we could enjoy going to.
We finally found one I enjoyed and I even made some friends there, the people were fun and loving, I felt at home.
That lasted for seven years, after that my mom met a man near the town she was born. This man was really special to us, he spoiled me and gave me food, presents. Everything a seven year old kid likes. She decided to move in with him in the house my dad built for us.
Now, this new man had a drinking problem. He used to drink alcohol every night. At the beginning he hid it and even played along with my mom's interests.
He went to church with us for a while, but eventually dropped out and never went again.
He started to grow weary of the church, jealous even, he claimed that my mother had an affair with the pastor and that she was giving all our money away.
The thing with alcohol is that it's a dis-inhibitor, all the things you hold back, repress or just are not aware you have inside, they all come out eventually. Usually in a really bad way. For my step-dad, violence and phisychal abuse was his way of releasing all of those emotions.
He lost control of his actions, and in the process my respect and love.
Everyone knew what happened at our place. Everyone could hear the loud voices, the cries for help and my silence. I was utterly and extremely intimidated by him. He seemed too big and terrifying back then. I couldn't stand up to him, not then. My mom would endure this night after night. I would never want people visiting me because of the heavy, negative environment we had at home. The worst thing for me to see was him hitting her when she was pregnant of his own child. My little brother was in pain before he even came to this world. I remember people telling me to hit my step dad with a shovel or anything I could find. I thought about it but never had the courage to do it. This wounded me deeply, the fact that I couldn't trust the man my mother trusted to be our leader. The man we were supposed to respect and follow. He betrayed my trust and I received the first blow that started to change my view of men and people in general around me.
Eventually I started wearing a mask, at school, at church, even in my own house. I never got too close to my classmates. I was afraid of them knowing what happened when I wasn't at school. I was also afraid of them letting me down, not coming through for me or not caring.
SCHOOL ME
Most kids hate going to school, the long hours, the teachers, the homework.
I loved all of it, the school was my way out, my safe place. The long hours were perfect, it meant I didn't have to face my reality so soon, the teachers loved me and were proud of me, I was a straight A student, I needed the validation, the attention, the peace and calm it brought to deliver, and come through with my homework. I secretly loved doing my homework, sometimes I would stay after school doing it, the longer I could stay there, the better.
There, the worst thing that could happen was a timeout because you were misbehaving. At my place, seeing my mom with bruises and crying was a different kind of school, life's hard lessons, the kind that I didn't want to learn so soon. There were times where I couldn't understand why we were going through all of it, why I was going through that kind of pain. Many times during my childhood and teenage years I tried to kill myself.
Sometime I would grab a knife and put it on my belly. I wanted to end all the suffering, I wanted to stop being an spectator of such a cruel act. I couldn't cope with the violence at home, and I couldn't do anything either to make him stop. Helpless, weak and hopeless.
I didn't sleep well, I would wake up to the sound of my step dad yelling, my mom crying or my little brother's desperate cries for them to stop. It all built up inside me, rage, sadness, disappoinment and despair.
I lost my ability to smile, to be genuinely be happy for something. I became a pretender, everywhere I went, nobody knew how hurt and broken I was inside. Nobody..... but God.
III. Not everything was bad
My friends called me boring and despised me because I wasn't in the mood to do anything. Eventually they gave up on me and never included me in anything ever again. It hurt a lot to find out that I was by myself, but not everything was bad, I learned to live alone, to enjoy my time with my thoughts and hobbies. I found out that I had skills in arts, music and literature. Sometimes my mom would see my achievements and be proud, I felt a bit happy, but that was it. I wasn't ready to handle the responsibilities and problems I was burdened with yet. I felt entitled to protect my family from a man who was hurting them, I felt the need to stand up for them, but I was too young and too weak, with no one to stand up for me, I sucked it up.
I usually bonded with older people, whether they liked it or not. I would pursue them and try to learn from them, I wanted to know, desperately how to handle things and take care of my family. I had a way out besides school. Across the street, a guy would play video games on his living room and I could see it. At first I would stand on my front yard just looking from the distance. I couldn't see much, but the colours drew me and I was distracted for a while.
I had the courage to cross the street and ask the guy one time if I could watch him play it, the minute he kind of gave me the yes, I would always wait for him to start playing and then run to his house. I could tell he was annoyed by me, but I was super quiet so it wouldn't bother him. I tried to help him with advice when he got stuck in mazes or didn't know what to do. The game was "The legend of Zelda: Ocarina of time" I will never forget that game, nor the memories. I can even remember the smell of his house. The game was in English and since he didn't speak it, it was twice as hard. He always had a dictionary close so he would look up word by word. I took note of that and decided I would learn English to help him and that way he wouldn't see me as an annoying little kid. I wanted to be useful so I bought myself a dictionary and started reading it every day. He was impressed by my knowledge, he didn't trust me for certain words, but when he looked them up and saw they were correct, he started to trust me. It was there that I fell in love with English and translating it, I did my first translations there, they were very literal and rough around the edges, but boy I was having fun and he even let me play after a while!
My neighbourhood was really violent and there was a lot of gang activity, I would see fights and assassinations almost every weekend. I saw people get killed in front of my eyes at a very young age. My mom realizing that I went almost every day to my new friend's house and knowing how dangerous it was to go out, she bought me a video game console and thought it would help me. That just made feel more lonely, but she had good intentions.
IV. Growing up
There were many things going on besides what happened at home and in the neighbourhood. The guys that I thought were my friends, although older than me, they weren't as smart or as nice as I thought. I had several wake up calls growing up. One time I was playing with my toys with another boy, he was a teenager already. I wasn't even 10. He wasn't interested in toys, but I found out the hard way. After a while playing he got bored and tried to abuse me, I was terrified, but I was used to the feeling so I didn't freeze this time. I used my toys as self-defense weapons and hit him as hard as I could until he set me free and I ran crying home. I guess my mom wasn't home or she was asleep, either way she had a lot going on already. I never told her.
When I was 13 I worked in a video games place, I knew a lot about them and since most of them were in English people would ask me the meaning of their quests or certain words. The owner was very nice to me, he payed me by letting play for free and I could play whenever I wanted.
After a few months he started to get really weird with me, indecent proposals and things that a 13 year old should never hear an adult say. Long story short the guy was gay and wanted me to fulfill his desires. He was also a pedophile and wanted me to have sexual intercourse with younger girls while he recorded everything on video. He promised a lot of money for us and I was tempted. Things at home weren't good financially, what I made there barely covered my school expenses. My step dad spent all the money in alcohol and probably drugs. My mom was left to work as nanny and take out loans. She got to a point where she was so deep in debt that she had to sell the house my dad built and the ice-cream place to pay for all of them. We moved to a smaller place and things weren't looking good.
I didn't give in, but I felt tainted and never got back to that place.
At church I had good friends, but their moms didn't like them to hang out with me, I guess they didn't want their children to be exposed to what I was living. That hurt a lot, not the fact that they did that, but that they did it in a way in which I figured out the reasons, which made me all the more bitter.
I stopped going to church when I was 16, I was involved in a romantic relationship with one of the girls from the same church. She was great, loved me in a way I never expected. But I got scared, I was afraid of showing her who I really was, of how weak I was for not standing up for my family, how phony and sick I was. Eventually I did something even worse, I left her, stranded her and never talked to her again. I know I broke her heart and inflicted a lot of pain to her. The cure was worse than the disease. But I couldn't be with someone, ever, I felt unworthy and like the lowest human being on earth.
V. Unhealthy habits
All the anger and rage built up inside me was thirsthy for a way out, I was a bomb waiting to go off, and it did.
One day while I was on summer vacations, my step dad came home drunk and angry, he was pissed because one of my uncles stayed over and of course he thought he was sleeping with my mom, when in reality he was in the top bunk of my bunk bed.
My mom was on the floor as he was stepping on her, I was crying and they weren't tears of sadness, they were my way of showing how powerless I was and how sick I was of feeling like that. I did the only thing I could and took my little brother outside and held him in my arms, I promised him everything would be alright, a lie I fear he didn't believe either. He was really angry and wanted to take a knife to kill him, then and there I realized how different we were, my little brother had the guts to do it and I the big brother couldn't fathom such act.
My uncle got up and delivered a proverbial beating that left my step dad bleeding and knocked down on the floor. I couldn't be more satisfied, but my mom, as always stopped my uncle before he could throw my step dad from the balcony. My mom's boyfriend promised to come back with friends. My uncle went back to his bedroom and handed me bullets for his gun, in case he needed to defend us again.
He never came back with friends to retaliate, but the damage was already done.
Situations like these were normal at my place, police officers were tired of coming, my mom would never take legal actions against her boyfriend.
I was getting better, the home was quiet and calm again, until my mom decided to forgive him and welcome him back, something she did every christmas. I wasn't ready for that, my heart wasn't the forgiving kind. All I had experienced was telling me how bad of a decision that was. So I took a stance and resolved that if he ever came back to our home, I would leave. My mom had to choose between him or me.
I guess she never though I would leave because she welcomed him back again.
As much as it hurt and saddened me, I left the house and the hardest part was not being able to see my little brother again. I hated my mom, I didn't understand how she could do that to my brother, how she could do that to herself.
VI. New horizons
One of my aunts invited me to move in with her. She lived three hours away in a beautiful coast town. She was a chef in a restaurant and her children were really nice to me. Her husband was so nice to me, I never knew a dad could be so loving, generous and such a comforting presence that made me feel safe. For the first time ever, I felt as if I could rest and trust a man. During my time there my mom never called, never reached out, it's like she never cared. I wasn't mature enough nor wise enough to put myself in her position nor to care about someone else rather than myself.
After a lot of thought and some resistance from my family, I decided to go back even though some of my family members wanted me to go far away and study abroad. As much as it hurt and as much as I wanted him gone, I could never leave my mom alone, not until I was sure she was safe. I stopped being selfish and thinking about what I wanted and thought instead of what my mom wanted. I now comprehend the fear of being alone, the fear of not having someone with you as you grow old. I could never see myself without Bridget. The mere thought of not being next to her for the rest of my life frightens me.
I moved back home and for a while things were rough, my step dad and I wouldn't look at each other in the eyes, we wouldn't talk nor set foot where the other did, we couldn't stand being in the same room as the other.
Eventually I started to branch out. My dad's sister had always been good to me, she genuinely tried to help me several times and always spoiled me. She has a drugtore and whenever I was sick she would give me meds and food. She realized I was very good at English because of my dedication and hard work. My grandmother and her united efforts to pay for my English course, one that I took advantage of to the fullest. I met a lot of nice people there, but I was only 16 and most of my classmates were adults. I never bonded with them, although they were really nice to me and praised me for my knowledge. In their defense, they didn't read the dictionary daily as a way out from domestic violence.
At school people noticed my incredible efforts of studying full time at two different locations, English lessons in the morning and high school in the evening. I didn't have to do English tests at my high school, the teachers often sent me out to chill or walk around while the other students struggled with simple grammar. Sometimes I would willingly stay just for the heck of it. My mom bought me books to improve my English before I started the English course so I had been studying English on my own for years before my classmates even knew what "the verb to be" was.
I started going to the gym with the guy who I used to watch play video games across the street. We became good friends, he was like the big brother I never had. I learned a lot from him. A lot from life, relationships and decision making. He showed me what a man's life looks like. Through weigh lifting I found discipline, a brotherhood and a way to release my emotions.
I moved on from weigh lifting to martial arts, Taekwondo, Karate, Boxing. They all built my confidence and I felt like I could finally stand up for my family. I felt like a man.
Little did I know that being a man has nothing to do with how big your muscles are, how hard you can kick, or how fast you are.
During my college years I was the same old quiet, never talkative guy who never smiled.
I refused to go out drinking or partying. My definition of fun was way different. I enjoyed staying home reading, playing video games, anything that kept me close to my loved ones. I wanted to be ready to protect them at any time. I still never went to church, but I kept my moral values intact.
I guess girls were attracted to my mysterious personality, the more I tried to hide the more they wanted to know. I never shared though, nor bonded with any of them. I still felt broken and damaged inside. I didn't want them to go through what I was going through. For me it was enough to just sit there and listen to their troubles or advise them on what to do with their boyfriends. I never trusted men again after my childhood experiences, not entirely. I could never have a consistent deep relationship where I could share with a guy.
I was there for everyone, I felt good helping, it was the only time I felt good. Serving others gave me pleasure. But I didn't want anyone to be there for me. I guess the reality is, I was afraid no one would be there, and so I shut everyone out. I didn't want to be disappointed again.
VII. My first Love
(Essay written by me a week after my abandonment fear cameback)
The beginning of this story begins with the end....It all started on October 6 of 2014 when after a day of classes at my school, she asked me to talk over Skype.
Which wasn't weird at all, since we had been in a long distance relationship for 2 months. She lived in the US and I in Colombia, so talking through Skype wasn't strange. What it was strange is that after our first week together as a couple, she decided to break up with me over Skype.
Let me rewind the story a little bit. We met each other in a humanitarian mission trip, I was a translator for the volunteers' team that came to my city to help people in need. It wasn't my first time doing this, in fact it was my third trip. I remember that I didn't want to go to this one, I felt useless and not able to be of help, besides I had always had problems with being sociable. It simply was hard for me to make friends, talk to strangers and to be around groups of people. At the end I decided to go.. why not? it was just 4 days anyway and I would have the chance to practice and improve my English.
A week before the mission started, the foundation's leader asked a bunch of translators to meet with her, we were going to be part of a leadership camp. Aside from that, she wanted to get to know us and have lunch with us. I was never comfortable with her buying us lunches, I felt bad by receiving free food, for some reason I saw it as charity and even though I don't like to admit it, I was really proud back then.
The group of translators was interesting to say the least. We were all different, personality wise, appearence and I without realizing it, was the eldest among all of them. Back then I had finished my studies and I was going to graduate soon. Naturally I spoke to no one about my private life...at least until one day at the leadership camp the leader asked us to share our story. I was the second one to share, I remember that everyone listened closely to what I had to say. I felt strange and in a position where I found myself weak and vulnerable, exposed.
When I finished talking, I got a positive feedback and everyone was even more intrigued with me. I noticed that one of the leader's companions, a blonde blue eyed girl was crying. I, being the curious child I always was asked the obvious. "Are you crying?" to what she answered with "Yes, I'm sorry--I get emotional" and a smile that lighted up the whole room. I didn't too much thought into it since her sister a red head with eyes not as blue as her sister's started talking and hightlight some of the points I made during my intervention. The day kept going normally, just like the rest. Nothing extraordinary happened. I got to know my partners a bit more but I didn't let them get to know me. Something useless to do since I had already shared my story days before. Even so, I decided to keep the rest in secret. I even avoided the question about my age several times, I always answered with a smile and a quick change of subject.
The leadership camp ended and we were assigned to the teaching group. Our mission was to teach English to kids from a poor forgotten neighborhood. I had never worked with kids before, but I like challenges so I faced it like everything I do in life. With determination and lots of patience. I found out that patience is vital when you work with children, specially the little ones. Teaching those kids gave me more satisfaction than anything else I had ever done in my life. I created a bond with them that I didn't expect to create. They taught me a lot about myself, it's incredible how the roles are reversed. I went there to teach them English and they taught me so much that I didn't know about me, they made me realize that I was good with kids, that I have lots of patience, but above all, that I like to be around them. The energy that they spread, their inocence, their will to live, to learn, to play, to laugh...to live intensely. The way they hear what you have to say, how they process every word they get from you...is so edifying. Being a teacher was something that called my attention when I was a teenager, but my family was quick to discourage me telling me that they didn't make enough money.
Back then my goal was to make a lot of money, I wanted to be successful and give my family all the things they saw on TV. But as I grew up, I realized that success is not measured in how much money you make a month or a year, nor how many houses you have, how many girlfriends you've had. Success consists in finding your passion, what you love to do and make it your job. Who doesn't want to have fun while working? no stress, remorse, regrets... the thing is that I learned how much I loved to be around kids and teaching them. This was something I was passionte about.
During that week, I learned a lot about myself, I also got to have conversations with some of the volunteers that came from the US, mostly with the siblings that were at the leadership camp. One of them I thought was the coolest girl ever. Her way of thinking and acting made me want to be her friend inmediatly. Caitlin was very friendly and open to me in our conversations, she even told me some private details about her marriage life in almost zero after meeting me. Her sister, Bridget, was happy all the time. she always kept a smile on her face, which surprised me since she was crying a week ago during my talk. She was extremely friendly with everyone in the group,like everyone else. But her attitude was different, she irradiated happiness, I thought it was curious and even funny that she wanted to be my friend, given my lonely serious attitude. We added each other on Facebook and throughout the English camp we talked every other night. We talked about our lives but on a superficial level, nothing serious. I always avoided the serious tipics. When the camp ended, she stayed a few days more to enjoy the city, therefore we kept talking. I saw her as a great way to practice my English and talk to somebody, since I had always been a loner and a guy who avoids relationships, I didn't have the chance to do that often.
She invited me to go out with her friends a couple times, I always looked for an excuse to not go. I don't like to feel like I'm in the middle of something. And that's how I feel when I'm with someone who's with friends that are not mine. I just feel out of place and even more lonely. The third time she asked, I finally gave out, but only if I could bring someone from my own team. So I took Alex, my cousin, he an I always understand each other to certain extent, so it doesn't matter where, we always talk about something, however absurd and illogical it may be.
I remember that we went to a poetry reading, extremely boring by the way. Alex complained the whole time, while I was paying attention to what they said, boring or not, they deserved my respect, and that's something I've always given no matter who. At the end we went to see a dance representation of contemporary dace I guess. Bridget and I exchange some words but mostly I talked to Alex. We heard live music and ended uo sitting on the walls of my city. We were watching a native music group rehearse. As the night went on, we got hungry and decided to go get some pizza. Bridget, her friend Milena, Alex and myself walked to a place where the Pizza is square and delicious! We spent a lovely time together and at the end we walked the girls to the taxi station so they could go back to their apartment.
The followind day, Alex and I had planned to go to the movies with my little brother, Jesus. We were on vacations and had nothing else to do. We agreed to watch an action film. I think I had told Bridget about it, and the day after our hang out she asked if they could tag along. So they did, we decided to watch Transformers 4, I didn't like the movie to begin with so I was set on talking to whoever sat next to me through the whole movie. To my surprise that someone was Bridget.
I didn't pay attention the movie, not even for a little bit. Instead I decided to make fun of all the ridiculous incoherences that made part of it. She seemed to like my wity comments. We talked through the whole movie. Something strange happened during it...I felt as if I wanted to kiss her. I ignored and blocked that thought, we were just friends and she was way out of my league.
When the movie finished we went to eat what becomed later, our signature meal. Pizza. We had a great time talking, to me going out with Bridget was the best way to practice my English, and that was all I wanted to think of it. So I took advantage of every situation and talked to her. Again after the sun came down and the night got darker, we walked them to take a taxi and called it a night.
The days went by and I kept talking to her, in one of our conversations she asked me to go with her to run some errands. I agreed gladly, I was decided to show her why Colombians are known by their hospitality and willingness to help. We agreed to meet early in the morning since she had to do quite a lot of things and I didn't want to take more time away from her than necessary. I arrived one hour earlier that day to avoid traffic jams and setbacks. She arrived one hour later, victim of the traffic. I was very efficient and took her to all the places she needed to go in time, by lunch time she was free, she had done all she wanted to do and I felt satisfied. I was ready to go home but I invited her to have lunch out of courtesy.
We had lunch in one of my usual restaurants, after that I didn't know what were her intentions so I asked what she wanted to do next. Surprisingly she wanted to keep hanging out with me. So I decided to show her the best places in my city, she was leaving on another trip the very next day, so I wanted to be a good host. After lunch we went to a mall with an ocean view. She loved it, we watched a movie and enjoyed a frozen yogurt. After the movie ended we walked to a lake 5 minutes away, there, we sat on a bench and talked. We talked about our lives, on a deep level, I learned about about her, and I told her about my childhood, my adolescense and the things I went through. In the midst of the conversation something happened, something I thought it was impossible and so far fetched that I didn't even dream of it. She told me she liked me.
Now, at that time I was in shock, I couldn't believe it. That a woman so beautiful would set eyes upon me, someone from another culture, from another country...me?
The evening passed by normally and quickly, her friend Milena called and we agreed to meet downtown to eat pizza again. It turned out that I was the only one who didn't know she liked me. Even my cousin knew. After eating pizza we went to eat ice cream, and it was there when we for closer. We walked to a park nearby, we sat on a bench, I held her hard nervously and put my arm around her after her confirmation. It was almost midnight without realizing it, so we walked holding hands all the way to her taxi, Before she left we kissed, just a peck on the lips but for me, it meant everything. It rocked my world so hard that I forgot to hand her the bag with all the purchases she had made during the day.
Her flight was due very early in the morning, so I decided to sacrifice my sleep to see her again. It was 4 Am in the morning whe I got to the airport, I waited like a kid waits for christmas to open a present. The moment I saw it, I smiled. I gave her a hug and helped her with her bags. We waited in line for her turn, I couldn't do anything but hold her close to me. We looked at eacher and she gave me a peck on the lips. I smiled again and then we did all the things necessary for her to go to the boarding area. I made sure to deliver the bag with all the things she bought the day before, I made sure to be with her to the very last moment, I made sure to see her leave. Not without receiving a kiss from her part, it was then and there that I knew it was all over for me, my mind wasn't the same, my thoughta and eyes were just for her.
The following two months, were a tidal wave of daily conversations through Skype, where we learned more and more about each other, where we fell in love with each other every day more, and where our rooms became the usual place to have our cyber dates. She supported me in everything I was doing, and everything that I needed to do in order to get to the US. During my stressful moments filled with doubts, she was my rock and anker.
When I finally saw her in the airport, everything was so surreal, from the moment I stepped out of the plane and went through the different checkpoints and border controls, to the moment I went out of that big metallic door that led me to a new life. Seeing her smile, her blonde hair and her mesmerizing blue eyes made me happy. For rhe first time in my life I felt loved, she accepted me the way I was. The emotions and sensations she made me feel just by talking through the computer were huge, but I never imagined that having her in front of me would be so inmensely wonderful. She jumped into my arms,I embraced her and hugged her like I've never hugged anyone. We were in public so I didn't kiss her, everything seemed so idilyc, so dreamy. Walking by her side made me tremble with emotion, my hands were sweating, but she was even worse than me. We spent 10 minutes trying to find her car in the parking lot, we were so out of ourselves, we didn't even know how to react.
When we finally founf her car, we sat and talked about my journey and hers. She, naturally and knowing my eating habits, brought me a protein bar. She knew I would be starving. After I ate all my food, she put her head in my lap as I played with her hair, I closed my eyes and let everything sink in. Step by step my dreams were coming true.
Everything was perfect...how wrong I was.
My first week in Miami Beach was the best of my life. At least the first days. Let's put it this way,it was like the four seasons in one week. Our spring was beautiful, we spent so much time together. I counted the minutes to see her again, and when I saw her...oh how cruel was time. Hours went by flying at the speed of light. We laughed, sang, eat, walked, swam and even danced. But as the seasons were passing and we got closer to the inminent winter, things were getting too serious. On friday of the same week, at the end of the day I cried for the first time in a long time. She told me her reasons and I listened, I felt hurt but I kept listening to what she had to say. She felt that we had a lot in common, that I was what she was looking for in a man and more. But there was something I didn't have in common with her, our relationship with God. That was vital for her, but I was willing to build a relationship with him. I would look for more of him, I would seek to build a relationship with him. Even if it wasn't fair for her to wait.The next day we took a road trip to her home town. 5 or 6 hours away from Miami. I kept my distance and prefered to stay quiet for most of the time. I let the miles and time help us heal. Maybe it was the way that we spent that weekend together that I didn0t see the fatal blow coming. We went to beautiful places, amazing restaurants and even to her church where she introduced me to her close firneds. I felt honored, proud and onverwhelmed with love. I met her roommates, I had conversations with her and never felt uncomfortable for being a stranger at home.
I think that the hardest thing for me to do that weekend was leaving her, I knew something was going on, that it would never be the same again. I took a bus back to Miami and it took me 7 hours to get back to my school's campus. It was a long day so all I wanted to do was sleep, and so I did.
The day after, Monday, I had classes early in the morning until noon. When the classes ended, I had lunch, talked to my family over the phone. Then Bridget told me she needed to talk to me over Skype, I thought she missed me and she just wanted to see my face. When I saw her face, holding up tears, with tired eyes from crying, I knew something was up. I remember asking if everything was okay, she said yes but I insisted. To what she answered sharply and breaking up in tears again. "I think we should be friends"
Inside of my, I felt nothing, just a rising void, growing like a black hole. I didn't know what to say, the words that came out of ther mouth next meant nothing to me, I couldn't process what was happening, but in a way I already knew. I knew this was the end and that it would happen sooner of later. It was foolish of me to think I could be someone as great as she was.
I respected her decision and agreed to give her time and space. I'm no stranger to rejections, and specially no stranger to solitude. To me, it was going back to normal. However I could help but feel pain, I couldn't stop myself from crying as soon as the call ended.
When you love somebody, when you truly do love every aspect, every strenght, weakness, imperfection. There's nothing else that can fill the void when they leave. I can't look at other women without comparing them to my now ex girlfriend, I can't stop thinking about the moments we spent together, the places we kissed, the streets we walked by holding hands, where we sat after lunch, where we had lunch and dinner. Now everytime I passed by those locations, sadness and melancholy took over me. It was a rough week, I had never fallen in love with someone so deeply, I had never loved anyone so intensely, I had never felt what I felt for her. Suddenly I had to leave all that behind, how? forgert her? I felt betrayed, depressed, sad, dissapointed. But mostly I felt a lot of anger towards me, I felt impotent because despite me giving all, after I gave my sould and body to her, after I changed a lot of aspects of my personality and opened up completely, even though I told her and trusted her with everything that was in my mind and heart...it wasn't enough for her. And I couldn't help but think that if I wasn't enough for her, giving my best, I wouldn't be able to be with a woman again. I felt unworthy, minuscule and despicable. I felt like nothing, I was...nothing.
Love wasn't for me at the end of the day, It turned out that I was going to be the grumpy, lonely, sad uncle of the family. Just like my family predicted it.
I was in such a dark place after that humiliating experience, I didn't know what to do, I didn't have anyone to talk to, to let it out. So I befriended my solitud, I embraced it and remembered that it had always been there for me. My mom reminded me of how I've always been a loner, so this wouldn't affect me, after all I was used to being on my own. She was right.
There's nothing wrong with being a loner, I learned a lot about myself when I was with Bridget, I felt that I knew myself better, I was ready to move on in my life. Single, determined and eager to reach my goals, I decided to not worry about love nor the future. I decided to live the present, forget the past and prepare myself as good as I could to face the tests, opportunities and challenges life had for me.
There was just one important detail I was missing and that would change my life completely, something that would turn my life project in a 360º degree angle. Divine intervention, I needed to let God in, and after that happened. The rest is history.
