Rechazo en el Día de San Valentín.

San Valentín me trae siempre un extraño recuerdo. Llevaba tres meses saliendo con una chica llamada Jana. Nos veíamos par de veces en semana, al menos una de las noches la pasábamos juntos. Todo bastante normal. Entonces llegó el día de San Valentín, que es algo complicado cuando uno no lleva mucho tiempo saliendo con alguien. El caso es que le compré un arreglo pequeño de flores, nada que la pudiera intimidar, y le dije que nos viéramos para almorzar. Nos encontramos en un restaurante y lo pasamos bien. Yo me sentía muy contento ya que llevaba unos cuantos años sin realmente celebrar ese día. Por fin lo celebraba como todo el mundo.

Pues al salir del restaurante, en el estacionamiento le entrego el arreglito de flores. Y ella me dice, "no". Yo me quedé sin saber que hacer o decir ante algo tan abrupto. "No puedo aceptarlo." Yo le dije, "es solo un arreglito."Ella me dijo "No. deja de insistir." Me dijo adiós y me dejó en el estacionamiento con el arreglo en mano. Nunca me había sentido tan loser en mi vida. El rechazo fue algo que me dejó inmóvil. A lo lejos vi par de chicas que me miraban, con una sonrisa de esas de pena. Era uno de esos que provocan lástima.

Llevé el arreglo a mi carro. Cuando iba esa noche a casa pensé botarlo. Pero no lo hice. Seguí con mi arreglo hasta mi apartamento y lo coloqué en la cocina. Por alguna razón me daba pena conmigo y con el pobre arreglito no querido. En cierta manera éramos iguales. Abrí una cerveza, comí un emparedado de take out y luego me puse a leer un libro de poesía, buscando en los grandes poetas un alivio de lo que había pasado en el día. No me acuerdo mucho más. Me imagino que me dormí temprano.

It's been a while since I've been here.
I feel good.
The anxiety is pretty much under control, although there are days when for a moment or so it comes back.
Been trying to be more in the here and now.

There are moments of peace
And I'm learning to enjoy them
Used to be impossible for me to find that place.
Now it's different.
I can find it.

I wish I knew how to feel about it.
Mixed feelings?
Maybe that's simply it.
It could be that simple.
But at night it gets complicated.
at 3am I become restless and strange.
then it gets better.

This blog was born of pain
of self pity.
of alcohol.
of feeling sorry for myself.

I am past that now.
I am starting over.
In my life.
In my online presence.

Closed down my Flickr, my Tumblr.

I am not closing this one down,
but I am rebuilding it.

I will delete a lot of it.
Simply because I am not that person anymore.

ok. yes.
I know.
pretty obvious now.
it figures.
well,
I will walk anyway.
and take my photos.
and write, yes, write.
and smile.
I am like that.
I get inspired by it.
it makes me better.

There is some noise outside.

I try to close my eyes anyway.

The sound fades away.

Like everything does eventually.

I have the "let's just be friends" speech down pat. I can recite for having received it so many times. After one date, after having had sex a couple of times, after a relatioship of a few months. I cantell when they're going to say it. Basically because it is preceded by the " we should talk" line.

I'm trying to decide which one hurt the most. Maybe the one with B. I had been crazy about her since high school, but nithing had happened. Suddenly I see her again at a small party and it was awesome. The chemistry was there. It seemed like a wonderful story, meeting again 10 years after high school. 

On the first date she gave a short kiss. Ok. I thought.

On the second date, the same. Still I was crazy about her.

On the third date, I tried to kiss her passionately in the mouth and she panicked. You could have sworn she was terrified by my act. It seemed I had done something terrible. The night ended on a weird note.

Next day she called me and gave me the let's be friends routine. That hurt. She did not even guve me a chance. 

I saw her years later at a dinner party. We talked a bit. I was still dying for her. Life is that way.

I don't recall what I did when I got home after dinner. Probably played an old, sad song and had a beer.

And maybe think about how things could have been different.

I love the silence.

I am not afraid of it.

Silence when I'm alone.

Silence when I'm with a good friend.

Silence with a lover.

Silence is sometimes deeper and stronger than words.

Some people have to fill every moment with words, jokes, cleverness.

Not me.

Give me silence and a smile and I'm the happiest person in the world.

The other day I thought of M, a guy I used to know in college. He was Jewish, but had an obsession with oriental women. That's all he dated and cared about. He once came to visit me and I asked him whether he would be interested in a Latino women, and he would agree that some of them were really sexy. But not as sexy as Oriental women.

He was one of the first persons I knew who went into online dating sites. Back when it was something reserved for losers of both sexes. He had date after terrible date, but always with an Oriental woman.

We lost touch many years ago. This was in the age before texts, emails and less intrusive communication forms, so he used to call me at night a couple of times a month to talk. And me, being tired from work was in no mood to answer. Guess he got mad and didn't call me again. I tried to reach out with an email telling him I wanted to know how he was doing. He never answered.

But one day I googled his name and it led to a blog. In it was a photo of M getting married. He was beaming with joy. Next to him was the bride. An Asian woman. 

I smiled.

Note to self. Go on heavy diet when I get home. 

The ocean rolling by.

Just the sound of that.

My thoughts are calm, surprise, surprise.

Decisions to a minimum.

Just this.

This.