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.