apparently better but i don’t really feel it.

sooooooooooooo

dear ladies and gentleman of the crazy world of the interwebs (((LOL)))

I can say without fear, i’m happy

The 27th of July i started a relationship with a wonderful man.

so, how the hell all that happened? well. i have no idea.

what can i say. i met this guy like 4 years ago. but let’s say i “met” him because i had him on my MSN Messenger. He’s from the town i’m living in. i came to live here but we never actually met. i don’t know why really, well, he left to bogota for sometime so i guess that helped. besides i’m not that talkative through msn anymore, so we haven’t been talking that much.

i knew he had a girlfriend back then and he was lost and in love so i didn’t even tried to to something there.

but well, when i had given up completelly he showed up, like “hey let’s go have lunch” and i was like “sure why not?” and i guess we clicked right then and there.

it’s been a sweet trip since then.

i feel in love like i never thought i could feel again. i feel full of energy, which is weird and great.

the weirdest thing is, that right now i’m trying to write down something about how i feel better or how my life sucked before, and i can’t. i mean, i don’t remember how i felt before. like the day before we met. i guess i felt miserable, but i can’t remember. it’s like his love has been the greatest antidepressant i’ve ever been on. because this is how i feel when i take my medicine, i forget all the pain, i can only feel this great sense of normal-great.

and indeed is like when i’m on my meds, i’ve been sad, i’ve been angry, i’ve cried, but i’m ok. i haven’t thought about suicide in this 3 weeks. ok maybe once when i felt really upset about a bad memory, but, i could easily overcome it, with him.

now about the guy. he’s SO patient. ever since day one. he’s so perfectly patient. he stands my mood changes. he’s there for me but i never feel too suffocated or too lonely. he’s there in the perfect measure. he handles my anger just fine.

and it’s funny because he inspires me this patience too. at first it was weird, to get used to be with someone, listen to someone else (i didn’t realize i had become so selfish until i met him!), it was weird but not that hard. i thought it would take me like a month, but well, a week later and the weird feeling was gone!

he’s perfect in an imperfect kind of way. he’s everything i need and dreamed for

right now i’m at bogota, away from him. and i miss him. but i’m happy. it was hard the first couple of days, but it’s been better now, since we’re talking alll the time

i’m on vacations and i plan to rest a lot. reconnect with my stuff here. forget about my job, to be back stronger!

i feel so peaceful writing this. and peaceful is waaay better than just happy. off course i’m happy. but i feel so relaxed. like it’s meant to be. we’re meant to be together to give each other this peace.

i feel loved like i haven’t felt before, and i’m good to accept it. i still don’t believe him when he tells me i’m pretty and special (stupid insecurities…) but still he’s patient enough to repeat it over and over again.

i could write forever a lot of good things about him and us. but i really have to go to take a bath, i’m seeing my nephew in a couple of hours hehehe

and btw, i’m ok with meeting with my bro’s family, because i no longer feel the sadness of the family i’m never gonna have… i feel ok and at peace, because i know, that my man and i are gonna have this family someday because we want to

ISN’T THAT FUCKING GREAT???????????????????

pd: he loves me even with my dirty mouth, so fucking what?

I love you H. all of you, inside and outside.

finally. internet at home again.

good one.

so.

this is what my life has been up to the last week.

i met this guy. really nice guy. it felt reaaally good for a couple of days. felt like falling in love. it was good.

then. i don’t really know what happened. maybe was something about meeting his family and realizing his true lifestyle. he’s just a kiddo.

i’m a kid too. a terrible human being. but i don’t know. i can’t explain… maybe it’s just a lame reason i try hard to believe so i reject him.

on thrusday night he asks *the* question… and i start thinking, and that’s not good. because i realize that, i don’t want to be in medellin anymore, that i don’t want to have something with him for whatever lame reason. and then i see my life and i realize that i’ve been sabotaging my life, over and over again.

i’ve blogged about it before, but for the first time is really clear.

summary of my life:

1. i *believed* i had a terrible childhood (i’m not longer sure i had a terrible one, maybe after all, 6 months away have helped me to forget and forgive…) so i always dreamt that when i grew up i would go away far from them, and erase my parents off my life.

2. i grow up and i have my first chance to leave them and make my dreams come true; i go to university and get my first job. i can’t find the balls, because i’m enjoying stuying, and they are the ones paying for my study.

3. i finish my studies, and i get a better job. we have some family problems. i threaten to leave. they ask me to stay for some time. i do stay. and i start to sustain them. pay for everything. my depression gets worse, and i dream that the day they die or i stop living with them i’ll be better.

4. i get this job outside my city, so i’m not living with them anymore. 3 months of pure joy. then i fall in love and get my heart broken. i fall apart. depression gets even worst. i realize, they’ve never been the problem, or if they were they are not anymore, it’s all about me. i realize the only way out is dying because i’m so alone.

5. now. i meet a guy, he wants to be with me and give me all that i needed and wanted. i let him in, for a couple of days. then i start having this feeling that i want to leave medellin and go back to my city. i feel tired of the city, bored of the people and the things i loved at the begininig, and away from the guy. i see his defects all so quickly.

… so. the huge conclusion is: i just keep sabotaging myself. killing my chances to be happy. why? because i like to be miserable? because i don’t believe in happiness?

anyway, just wanted to talk about it.

besides that. i don’t want to go back to medellin

i miss every single thing i have in my room. every piece of crap. my cds, my dvds, my papers, my markers, my colors, my books, my nail polish ahahha. i miss my mess, and fixing it one bit at a time.

i just don’t know what to do

so i’ll just keep living, and i’ll try not to think that much.

over and out.

so i used to be good. and i could see good in people.

i believed in my goodness beyond all the shit i had. beyond my foul mouth. beyond my weakness. i knew i was good i my soul. i knew i had good feelings. i knew i could be a good friend, and a good human being. i even thought in a specific moment in my life that i could be a good mother.

right now. i know i’m not good anymore.

there’s no good left in me.

i forgot what’s like to be in love. i forgot what’s like to have a friend. i forgot what’s like to care about someone else.

i don’t see anything good in me. i see what i was. but i never pictured what i’ve become. and i don’t see anything good ahead.

i used to be in control. of myself. i used to have plans. then i could at least have goals for my personal growth.

now i have nothing.

it takes such a huge effort to be good. to be good with people. to be nice. it’s so hard. it’s worst than getting up in the morning.

and i care less and less every day.

i used to show this hapiness. somehow i still do at work. because work is all i have left.

because it’s the only place i feel needed. i feel like i’m good at something. i feel respected.

and the funny thing it’s just superficial. and i am aware that *that* will be over, sooner than later. and then. i don’t know what i will do.

maybe i’ll be the traditional tabloids headline “suicide”. i can see the end of me; going insane after loosing my job. oh so classy and pathetic.

anyway.

it’s the death of me.

there’s a little tiny hope in me that there must be something wrong with my body and my brain. that if i go to a doctor i could get cured and maybe. just maybe go back, get something back of what i had.

but i’m too lazy and selfdestructive to go.

but i’ll make an effort. one last effort.

just to kill the last hope.

but besides that. you, invisible and inexistent reader, are witnessing the death of me.

ok this was one weird night. a really wild wild night. difference is i’m too old or boring or something because i feel bad about it hahaha

not all that bad, but it was insane… and i’m like OMG so dangerous.

ok here’s how it all happened.

friday was last day of work for a co-worker. we weren’t that close, actually i took over half of his responsabilities. so ok, i don’t hate him or love him. he’s just a cool dude.

anyway, at night there was this goodbye party  for him. i invited some friend, but we ended up just a few (8 people). first we walked around like crazy, all stupid, looking for a place to sit in a drink. we finally found one (called “Ay Caramba”) and we ordered rum. and i got a beer.

and we started drinking and having fun. i was taking pictures and it was good.

i got drunk easily (as usual) and we moved to another place to dance and have the real party.

so we went to this place called Republica. it was cool. live music, and 8 drunk people = fun. and we were like 6 men and 2 women (me included) so i danced like crazy all night. i couldn’t drink anymore because i was sooo lost and more drinkas and felt like pucking.

still some dudes made me drink still i managed to be ok.

sometime at 2:30 am, everyone left the place. i was drunk and disappointed. outside the bar i told them ” let’s keep it going in my apartment!” some people said yes but left to drive some others home.

my cellphone ran out of battery but i was supposed to go home and charge it and wait for a couple of guys to call me. the thing is that i like this one guy a lot, and we were dancing and doing ok. and he was one of those that left… i was drunk and high expectations to have FUN with that one guy.

anyway i was left with one guy that i don’t like but was hitting on me all night :S but it was ok, i could handle even drunk… ok not so much because he said let’s get into Blue (another bar, just in front of the one we were in) and i just went in.

we had 2 beers . he was direct asking “lets go to your apartment and fuck” kind of thing. and i was like “no way”. so he was ok with it and i told him let’s pick up a girl or something. and we walked to the back of the bar. the thing is that it’s a rock bar, so i started dancing good to the music. i was drunk and banging my head all around.

it was great.

while i was at it, we ran out of beer but it was fine. a girl came close by to pick a stool, i don’t know if it was me who threw it to the floor. and i didn’t care i just smiled and she wass pretty. so we kept dancing close to each other. she was with a dude. not so cute, just plain ok.

the guy that was with me started hitting on her. and as usual my instincs kicked in and i wanted to protect her from him or something. he was starting to drink from other people’s drinks left behind in the tables. that was. sad.

so he was talking to her and giving her some of those drinks and i went to her and asked her if he was disturbing her or saying nasty things. she didn’t get what i i told her and i didn’t get her answer either but i blame it on the drinks and i really didn’t care.

i went i bought 4 beers and invited them all.

we were officially a new party group and we were having fun.

until they turned on the lights and kicked us out.

so with no music and lights on, i come to realize this people are from the US. just speak basic spanish and they are going wild and doing whatever you ask them since i speak english i talked them to go to my apartment. we went like the 4 of us. bought more beers and rum and went home.

in my apartment we started talking. the dude from work don’t speak english so he got bored and left to a room and fell asleep (he was too wasted too).

i was left with these people talking shit.

don’t ask me how. we ended up in my bed. and i ended up naked and having a wild threesome night.

so. insane.

i haven’t done any crazy sex stuff in a long time. so it was crazy and the worse is i don’t remember half of it.

next thing i wake up and i’m alone with the dude. sometime in the morning the girl got up and slept in the couch… weird. we went loking for her and she came back to the bed with us. from that point i wass still drunk i just wanted to sleep so they did their thing while i slept.

i woke again at 12m with a hangover of hell. i didn’t kicked them out, they took their time and left.

between the 2 times i woke up the dude from work woke up and come into the room. he was kinda shocked LOL he was the one wanting to have a wild night and was left alone in a bed.

he left, taking the little jam i had for food and the bottle of rum. bastard. but i don’t care. we had fun and he was out of it.

between the 2 times i woke up i went to my cellphone and called my best friend. i was scared and really wanted to be alone. the usual post shock of i’ve-just-woken-up-from-being-wasted-and-i-don’t-remember-all-that-well-what-happened-last-night-and-there-are-2-strangers-in-my-bed. you know what i mean. but i managed. and went back to bed

after they left my head hurted bad. i asked for lunch. after lunch i just slept.

today everything in my body hurts.

and my apartment is a mess

and i feel… i really don’t know how i feel. sometimes i feel the rush of energy of “hell yeah i had a wild night, so what!?” and sometimes i just feel like trash. becausei would have liked to be with this one guy from work. which is impossible anyway because he’s gotta girlfriend, and we’re not even friends (i’ll be his boss actually) and we’re not gonna be out dancing and drinking again i think…

and other times i just feel like crap because i didn’t enjoy it that much. because i’m old and boring? because i’m not so carefree anymore?… i have no idea.

whatever it is. i don’t care that much anyway. it’s in the past and my crappy life will go on as usual.

Tears Dry On Their Own by Amy Winehouse

so.

i’m back at bogota, just for the weekend. i’ll be back to medellin on tuesday, first flight.

as usual, coming back is kinda pain in the ass. i just came here to meet my nephew. that was the main reason. but as always, i used the time to party, have fun with friends… and as always, it ended up in depression, boredom and this time a new ingredient: heartache.

let’s begin on friday. i got here, and i sat with parents for less than an hour. they made sure they mention how broke they were since i’m not giving them any money anymore (i just pay the rent and the water, energy, phone, etc. but no more cash.)

and that sucks. because i’m broke myself, and i’m burning out at work and i can’t just keep living starving because i let them manipulate me.

anyway. i tried to stop them, and left to meet a couple of girlfriends. my ex-boss was one of them. and we met under the heavy rain that’s been falling for days non stop, and we talked. not a single drop of alcohol. just a juice and we talked. it was nice. it was fun. i missed them they are good people.

i got home at 2am and slept.

on saturday i had plans to met my nephew. a 5.5 earthquake made the day. i was having a bath when it happened. as usual i react very calm, and my mother was hysterical. like screaming and crying and paralized. so it’s become naturall for me to be all peacefull and calm her down. i’m so cool that she actually calms down… makes me wonder, if actually earthquakes scare me? there’s so much i don’t know about myself, because i’m still like under their shadow. under their influence.

anyway. after that i twitted about it. and talked to a guy that i met there and i know he lives in bogota. so i kinda asked him out. he said yes. we agreed to meet for dinner.

i left late and met the nephew. a baby is a pretty awesome thing. and i’m proud of myself because i didn’t cry. i was really broken inside, but didn’t show it. i’m crying now thinking about it.

he’s little. kinda cute and ugly at the same time. but all babies are for that matter.

now that i’m making an effort to remember i’m crying and i realized my brain blocked that moment. but trying hard and since it’s so recent, i can remember. the tiny little thing, opening his eyes and looking at you. breaks my heart. and it does because, he didn’t open his eyes the whole time me, mother and grandma held him. he opened his eyes when HIS mother held him. he opened them and just looked at her. he was born a week ago, but he actually acknowledge her.

i’m crying right now.

makes me wonder 2 things.

1. i will never know what’s that like. i won’t have those tiny little pretty eyes looking at me like ‘hey mom nice to see you’. i just imagine how must that feel. and it breaks me. it must be the most important moment of your life. the one that makes it worth all the shit. and i’ll never know what is it like.

people that have read this or heard me talking about this, says ‘never say never’ or ‘you never know what happens’ and can go even cheaper saying ‘your time for it will come, you just have to wait’.

and if i stop and think about it i feel even crappier because i can see that happening in the scenario of me getting so desperate about life and solitude and the lack of balls to kill myself, so i marry whatever pathtic guy, or i’ll get pregnant in a whatever time and i just won’t be able to love my kid as much as i imagine, and it will only fill me with bitterness and reasons to want to die and more reasons to feel trapped.

so, in any scenario, i won’t have those feelings. like perfectly in love making a family.

boo-hoo.

2. my father openly admits he never held us as babies. not me or my brother. he stays far from the nephew -his grandchild-, he doesn’t even touch it. he makes a lame excuse about not wanting to hurt the baby or whatever, and it’s so unlike him. yeah: father admitting a weakness? definitelly not.

maybe he’s just a cold-hearted bastard. maybe i just don’t give a fuck anymore.

it just makes me wonder, if somehow, holding a baby, keeping him safe while he’s little, makes a bond between you and the baby. i mean, it’s so incredibly smart to acknowledge his mother, could he sense people that want to protect him from the ones that want to harm him?

it may be stupid, but it makes some sense to me, since my father never held me, i really don’t feel a bond to him, beyond the obvious shit i’ve inherited from him. all the worst of humans, from him, in me.

anyway.

let’s keep going on. after meeting the nephew, i went to meet the guy from twitter. i got so absurdly late. so i payed the bill. just fair! (note: he was gentleman enough to try to persuade me not to do it, but hey! i’m a stubborn woman).

he’s not from my country, so it was quite interesting to hear him talk. ok and let’s be open here; the guy is really handsome! so indeed it was a pleasure to meet him.

i had plans to go to a birthday party of a friend from highschool. i tried to invite him, but he had other plans. still we had time so we went to a bar and had a couple of drinks.

we talked about many things. mostly of him (90% i was trying to drive the conversation, so i kept asking him stuff, and since i’m not fond of talking about myself unless i’m asked a direct question, then we talked about him all the time :S)

we talked about old lovers, and brokenhearts. he said something interesting; he claims to be the easy-going kind of guy that never gets into an argument, and he’s the romantic kind of guy (hell yeah the perfect man), and he says he’s still alone because women like to have arguments, and like to be reminded that they can loose the things they have, and since you don’t have fights and arguments, you don’t value your partner, so that’s why he’s alone.

I don’t believe that’s the reason, but still i find that thought very much interesting.

anyway. i’ll sum it up like this: the guy is handsome, smart, and full of qualities. i didn’t invite him out to a date. i just wanted to do something different and that’s what happen.

But i can’t help but wonder, why, if i’ve been to ‘wanting’ to find someone to be with, i didn’t made myself pretty? (that’s #1, i looked like shit, so, i felt like the ugliest person)

next, why didn’t i openly flirted with him?? i’m a tease, come on! i always flirt. ugly guys, pretty boys, gay men, beautiful women, cute women, I ALWAYS FUCKING FLIRT. and i was so ‘normal’ with this guy, and HE WAS CUTE! like i said, the perfect man.

the answer to those questions is unknown. and i feel pretty stupid. it’s not like a guy like him would ever notice me at all. but i’ve made pretty boys fall for me! anyway. i feel kind of stupid. like i lost a chance. and it’s stupid thinking. stupid regret. maybe it’s just the mess my head is. because it’s the smartest thing and it’s what i should do. keep people away from me.

anyway. next.

after that i went to the bar to my friend’s party.

it was a crappy bar. it was empty. and she and all her girlfriends looked pretty (yeah keep adding up to the low selfstem shit).

i sat around, listen to the music. drank rum and smoke. she introduced me to a guy. that happens to be her ‘friend-with-rights’. they’ve been together for a year, but she doesn’t want anything serious with him for the usual stupidity we women say: we’re on different paths, we want different things, yadda yadda yadda.

ok, it’s not stupid. it’s very true. and it’s very sad to see, and to live; this guy is crazy for her. he adores her. he’s all over her, like breathing for her. but in a perfect equilibrium, because he’s not intense and he’s asking all her girlfriends to dance, because we were more women and men at the party. that THE PERFECT GUY!

ok note here: i meet 2 PERFECT FUCKING GUYS IN JUST ONE FUCKING NIGHT! weird. weird and scary. and depressing. but weird man, bizare!

anyway, back to the story. the guy is super nice. he’s not all that handsome. he’s just ok, normal, next-door guy. but he’s full of this love that he’s shining, you know what i mean? he made every woman in the room feel good. he’s such a cool guy. i could almost feel completly in love with him, in just one dance. it was awesome.

but i understand my friend, and well. no one can tell what’s gonna happen. and she’s still my friend, but i must admit, the guy is *SO* wonderful makes me wanna steal him from her!! but no. it’s not gonna happen. she’s a good friend. and i’ve got enough problems.

rest of the stuff is not important. i got tipsy. but not all that drunk, just happy. after they closed the club we went to my friend’s house. i tried to stay there away, but i could drink anymore. so i started to feel tired, until i finally left and slept on my friend’s bed.

next day i woke up -everyone else slept-. i took my stuff and left. i got home and i slept some more. i woke up. and i’ve been depressed after that.

i’m not that bad, i’m just sad for all those wonderful people i met in one night that would never be in my world because i’m weird. that life i’m never gonna live, those perfect men that would never fall in love with me, because i’ve lost all hopes and through the veil of my own self-hate and low selfstem, no one is and will never be able to see something good in me.

in a heatache for the impossible.