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.

Seeing the view.

Capuccino in hand. All good.

Good night sweet prince....

The day is gone.

A chance closes.

I am sort of sleepy.

There's a book next to me in bed.

A book about positive thinking.

I like reading things like that late at night. 

To feel things are fine.

Life is what we deem it.

Right?

I wonder why I'm looking back like this. There is no need. And why concentrate on the bad things, when there were good moments. But I need to trace back the darkness, the fears. And they were there all the time. Now I understand somewhat. 

There were moments back then that scare me when I think about them now. Days of complete loneliness. Days when I would not utter a word because I had no one to talk to. Things ate so different now that I find it amazing to think about those days. 

I may go to a movie. Then walk around the city. Maybe go into a bookstore and spend some time just browsing books. Then go someplace to eat and then head home. Hopefully there would be a movie on some independent station. This was before cable had come to the city, of course. Then maybe lsiten to some music and then sleep. 

No words, just silence. 

I was bullied by two guys all throughout junior high school. One of them used to be a friend when we were 5-6 years old. But for some reason when we reached jr high, he took pleasure in belittling and humiliating me. He would make fun of my height, calling me a dwarf. He would do this constantly in front of others.

The other guy was weirder. He didn't know me at all. He would simply push me or shove me at any opportunity. For no reason. If there was a school activity, he would look me and push me.He was a big guy, the head of the volleyball and basketball team, a really popular guy with the girls. There was no reason for him to do that to me. But he would constantly.I never knew why. And just like that, he stopped it.

I also saw some of my friends bully others. Especially they would bully a couple of guys who may have been gay. It was really cruel. And it used to bother me, but I did nothing. I may have even laughed, out of nervousness and out of trying to be cool. I never did the bullying, but I feel I should have done something to stop my friend's macho posturing. Strangely enough one of my friends who bullied may have been gay himself. I used to hang out with him later in life and he was incredibly uncomfortable around women, as if he didn't have any sexual attraction towards them and had to struggle to fake it in front of others. Sad man, really.

anxiety has always been a part of my life. It's just I didn't know it until a few years ago. Ever since I was a child my parents would install fear in me about everything, telling me not to do this or that because it was dangerous. Don't ride a bike, there is too much traffic here. (I never learned to ride a bike because of this). Don't walk so far away. Be careful of this, of this other thing.
I understand parental concern, but it was so hard for me to do anything out of the routine.

So I stuck to routines from that young age. I remember one day the school bus left me. And I had my first panic attack. Something which was uncalled for, because I had a friend who lived 3 blocks from school. I just had to go there and his mother would drive me home. But suddenly it seemed the world was falling apart. I started trembling and crying. Finally I did walk to that house and I was driven home. But just the thought of it made me lose it. I was like that from such a young age.

words can not describe how exhausted I am.