If it wasn't for Her

There are certain days when I just want to let go. Just disconnect, not care, not worry about what'll happen tomorrow. Days that merit drinking, cursing, hurting myself, so I won't hurt others. Days where everything I've worked for, and everything I've obtained... seems so small, so insignificant, so irrelevant.

There are simpler days, when I need family, friends, the occasional flirtation, to make it through. These are NOT those days. On these I need absolute detachment, solitude, the sense that I'm battling my demons on my own, the sense of control that finds its way to perdition and kills everything it finds.

But as soon as I see her face, everything changes. All my worries, all my discourage, all these wrinkles and gray hair that all of a sudden invade me... Turn to nothing.

As soon as I see her smile, I remember why I have to do this. I remember why I get up every morning and put up with people. And bring home hard earned money, and try to give her the most comfortable, safe and happy life I can. As soon as I see her eyes, I remember why I live.

I always thought parents exaggerated when they said stuff like "They're my everything", or "They're my reason to live". I had come to think humans were so self-involved and utterly selfish that one could not live for another more than for oneself, at least a tiny bit. I had never been more wrong in my entire life. And she's the reason I understand. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have a reason to understand where I'm going, why I'm living and who I'm living for.

People have asked me why I've never posted anything about my daughter. The answer is quite simple. Nothing I ever write will do justice on how this child has changed my life. Everything I write seems so unworthy, so basic, so non elaborate.

So up until this point I had never tried. But don't be fooled: with this post, I will be content, because it's something she'll be able to read one day, and maybe I'll cheer her up somehow. But in no way, shape or form will I ever think this even remotely close to fitting, or even enough to describe what she has done for me.

And I'll continue to post about simple things to describe, of course. But going forward what is inspired by her, will only be directed to her. It's up to her if she wants to share. I know writing will be a part of our communication, and I'm very much looking forward to that.

So, Janielle, when you read this, know that Mami loves you more than words could ever so much as try to describe. I love you like the Earth loves the Sun, like our favorite foods love salt, and like we, as humans, could never fully understand. You're my all, my exception, my everything. My strength and my weakness, all at once.

I will love you through the worst. Through misunderstandings, fights, heartbreak and other more alarming failures. Through anything you may consider as the world falling on you, because I will try to feel it the same.

I will love you when you hate me. Because at some point it's inevitable. But more importantly, because you have made me want to be the best I could ever be. No matter what, I will continue to live with you, at least in my spirit, and for you, at least in my mind. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and I plan on proving it to you.

And... Maybe someday, I'll inspire you a mere tenth of what you have inspired me.

... I still can't believe you started Kindergarten today.

Mami
08/27/2014.-

Drama-Keen

About two weeks ago I had a conversation that has put in perspective how I feel about my personality in more than one way. I was told I'm dramatic. Not in the usual "You're Dominican, so it's expected" way, but that I create drama, spread it, that it follows me, and that I can't get away from it... That I blow things out of proportion in very negative ways, and that this particular person had heard many things from me that he couldn't fathom me saying.

I'm laying here thinking about it still, because no, I'm not a robot, and unfortunately I tend to hold on to what a (I'm going to use a super heavy word for this person, so excuse me while I brace myself) friend will tell me, for usually one of two reasons: 1) that it's so shocking, I can't believe those words were directed toward me, and 2) that I've spent a considerable amount of time thinking, "Yeah, things are iffy, but not because of anything relevant or worth finding out about. Let's just all get along."

This time it's both. Because I had never heard those words being thrown specifically at me, and because the reasoning for them has apparently been going on for eight long months.

Some people have the ability to deliver words with such an impact that they reach your subconscious and mutilate it so bad you're left wondering what the heck just happened. And the words hurt with such a force, that for a period of time (in my case, sixteen days later) they keep coming back to you, kicking your ass a little harder, because apparently the initial beat up wasn't enough.

And I cringe at the thought of the aftermath. The fact that there are still so many unanswered questions. To which, honestly, half of me doesn't want answers. Half of me just doesn't want to know more. I just wanna go to work, and do my job, which I happen to be good at (mainly because I've been there forever, but you know what I mean); get my paycheck and keep things strictly professional. And for sixteen days I've managed to do that.

The other half of me is broken. It's tired and beat, and it wants to be frozen up for a while so she doesn't feel anything.  I want to know why this has been going on for eight months. Why was I not approached about this when it happened, or at least right after it happened; why the silence, the exclusion, the avoidance, the anti-bandage-ripping attitude that made me wonder so many nights what on Earth I did wrong. Does someone really deserve to live a lie for eight months, when she has proven to be open minded enough that you can tell her anything, because her skin is so ridiculously thick that, through it all, she will be OK?

I've said some rude things, I won't lie. But at the time, with the utmost honesty, I didn't realize they were rude. This is who I am, I push the envelope, I empower people to think big, to get their truths to their face and embrace who they are. To simply grow a pair, and to be able to take criticism. This world was made for the ready, for heaven's sake, not for the weak. And the people I'm with most of my time should already have figured out that I'm harmless. Yes, I may shock you with what I have to say, but it's only because I want you to be better, I KNOW you can be better. And it's none of my business, I was told. Guess what? If I consider you my friend, it is my business. I want nothing more than the best for you, and if I know you can be better for yourself and inspire those around you, and be as strong and beautiful as you can, I will find a way to tell you.

But apparently everything I've said around a specific clique has been taken in the worst way possible. My words and actions have been turned and I have been seen in a very unflattering light. I've been portrayed as manipulative, conniving, plotting, you name it, that was me. I feel like nothing I can do at this point can fix this. All I can do is apologize, hope that the wall they have probably formulated in their minds has at least a small window in it that I can at least leave my side of the story bundled up beside, waiting to be heard and believed.

When I discuss the issue with friends that know the matter, I'm inevitably told the same thing. "Let that rubbish go, you don't need to prove yourself to anyone. You have your friends that know who you are, and if these people have a preconceived notion of who you are, nothing that you say will change that". "They're not worse, but they're not better than you, either. They've probably said things about us, too, and they're most likely not stressing out about this in the least."

But I'm not one to just not care. I believe in the power of clarity, of closure and of acceptance. If I can as much as show at least one of these people, which I happen to respect for who they are, that above all else I never meant to make this personal or make to make them feel excluded afterward, or even so much as that my intentions have never had an ulterior motive, that'll be enough for me. And who knows, maybe they'll get and keep something positive from it too.

I know I'll never get answers to questions that have lingered for so long, and I'll figure out a way to make my peace with it. But it hurts. It hurts with an intensity, that I can't help but believe I must have been a VERY bad person in my previous life, and I'm paying for it harshly in this one. I've tried to confront, and to clear things up, and have had the opportunity denied to me like a door shut in my face on so many occasions. If this has been going on for eight months because of a series of misunderstandings, it would crush me. But I'll never know.

Eight months... Unbelievable. In the end, I assure you, I'd rather be called a drama-queen, than a coward. "This too shall pass.", they say. I'm sure it's correct. I just hope that by the time it does, no one's left wondering if what they did was right. Or wondering if they just threw away one of the greatest friendships they could ever have, all because they decided to keep quiet.

Yan
7/27/2014.-

Pesky, Little Bubble

One of my newest friends, who happens to live in a very far away land, taught me something last week. Most of my so called friends live "stuck in a bubble". They can't see past their own problems, happenings, and overall lives.

The only reason my new friend can be so sure about this, given he doesn't know the rest of my friends, is that it's unfortunately way too common these days. The monster that is egotistical social media, along with everyday undeserved praise, making everything "about me", and that newfound courage you inevitably get when you hit a certain age and all of a sudden you feel like you can take over the world in a second, can really take its toll on an otherwise super interesing personality.

We are, by virtue or defect, living in the era where Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and other hazardous chemicals have made it its focal point to legitimately have their users perform those virtual screams of "Look at me!", "Read my status!", "Listen to the point I have to make!", or even "I don't really have a point, or something good to say at the moment,  or really anything positive to contribute to society, but look at the annoying shape I can make with my mouth while I'm taking a selfie! That takes talent!".

Now, don't think I'm up on a condescending horse here, for I too have experienced being virtually egocentric. You're looking at the proof. This blog used to have a good two hundred followers, and it used to be the center of my life. The fact that people moved on to Facebook and all the other aforementioned ventures, doesn't make me immune to the fact I was once wrapped up in a bubble that was far less than noticeable by me at the time. People went from wanting to read, to wanting to be read, and that's very much OK.

So why am I bringing it up? Why state the obvious when it seems like it's only getting worse, and why even bother to write these words, if my followers are no longer there?

It's simple, and twofold: first, I didn't start blogging with the hopes of becoming a "blogstar". It soothed me, relaxed me and it still does. Second, I do have strong hopes that my friends who do take a second to exit their pesky, little bubbles, and enter this passive-aggressive situation I'm describing, do it in a way that makes them understand that at some point we need to think big.

There are wars going on in the world. There are people dying every day, for reasons we wouldn't even be able to BEGIN to understand, because we're just so stuck in what's happening a mere mile around us. You can call me uptight, you can call me "Debbie-Downer", and you can keep saying I'm "getting way too serious" for you, but the same way life is too short to worry about the (apparently) inevitable, life is too short not to. There's a time to have fun, and to make it all about me, but there's also a time to learn, to become aware, to know what's happening in this home we were given.

Egoism is strong, but not necessarily powerful. Not when we're accomplishing nothing. Maybe you'll read this, raise an eyebrow, like me a little less and close this window, because after all, you don't need anyone to tell you what you're doing wrong, because let's face it, you can do no wrong. Can you?

But maybe, just maybe, you'll start to realize it's not all about you, it's time to think big, and if you can't physically give anything back, at least give it your thoughts. After all, the world put them there. And that's what's truly powerful.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need go find a nice, thick needle. Time to pop this sucker into oblivion and live just a little harder.

YDLC
7/21/2014.-

This Old Knot

Stress is such a waste of time. I mean, seriously, what's the point? If it has a solution, why worry about the issue? And on the other hand, if it has no solution, once again, why worry?

It's like we're programmed to lose our hair (or have it  turn gray) over everything. Lack of money, lack of space, lack of privacy, lack of sex. There's a worry for each one of us, and it's bound to occupy our minds whether we like it or not. And no, gutter-heads, I don't have that last one!

I had this teacher in college, Professor Luis Santana, that would say he was actually able to decide what he was going to worry about, and when. If he had to have a nasty conversation on Monday morning, he wouldn't worry about it until that Monday morning. If he had a tedious ordeal to handle on Thursday afternoon, he didn't prep for it until Thursday morning.

I found it exquisitely amazing. And have always wanted to be able to do that. It's the epiphany of using logic. Not letting emotions take over you, not paying mind to the things that simply don't deserve it, not going insane over something that will resolve itself with time.

To have control over my thoughts, group them up and put them where they won't bother anyone, and decide when to ponder about them... is such a beautiful dream. A dream that someday I want to turn into reality.

Someday I want to get rid of this knot in my throat that's just so darned tight. I wanna be able to accept problems and decide if they're worth my sleep, my hunger and my above all, my tranquility. I want to show my brain that it doesn't rule me, that it's the other way around. That positivity can actually exist within me, and that I can portray it in my actions. I wanna be able to laugh at problems, challenges and issues, just like I have no problem laughing at myself.

This is beginning to sound like a sappy mantra. Sorry about that! Back to basics. One of my biggest flaws has always been worrying about people that are perfectly fine. In other words, don't need me to worry about them. And in even better words, haven't the slightest interest or consideration in the fact that I worry about them. And in the latest establishment on the issue, have been rude responding to my worry. It hurts, but in the grand scheme of things, what really can I do but stop worrying and hope for the best? What can I do but know about them drinking into oblivion, put their life in the hands of God, and hope that some day they realize that all I ever wanted was their happiness?

At what point do I just back off and realize that I'm no one important in this person's life? At least not important enough that there would be some sort of two way street when it comes to basic communication? Why invest my worry in someone that clearly doesn't deserve it?

So many questions I'll probably never have the answers to. But so little I can do about it. I need to know what the absence of worry is about, really embrace it, detach myself from a senseless friendship. Let go of someone who just plain doesn't need me anymore. And deal with the stress as best as I can.

This is something I think I've never done before. At least, not with a friendship that got to possess so much intensity. Maybe I'll write about it again. Maybe my reaction will make things change. All I know is I'll never feel this way again. And I shouldn't. No one should have to stress about something as beautiful as friendship. I've already lost too much time.

Yani DLC
02/24/2014.-

Poisonous Silence

It stings. It feels like I have seven hundred bees injecting their poison into each one of my veins, repeatedly. Like if a Mack truck decided to run over my knees, over and over again. It hurts like nothing I've experienced in a very long time.

It burns. It feels like I'm slowly walking along the hallways of a burning house, feeling the flames piercing my skin, excruciatingly tearing off my face. Feeling my lungs get inundated with that deadly smoke. Feels like it won't stop.

It insists. Just when I think it'll get a little better, it makes me remember, and it hits me harder than before. It reminds me that it can be stronger than me. It convinces me that it's bigger than me. That I can't possibly get rid of it. That it'll do with me whatever it wants.

It is here. It will not go away any time soon. It will make its house in the edge of one of my ribs, and just tighten, and strain, and break me, and be as painful as it can be. It will have no mercy of me. It'll laugh straight at my face whenever I think I can forget it.

It's trapped. It has found a home in my soul and taken over. And it will last forever. Not with the same strength always, but it will frequently show up to flaunt its power. It'll never really leave. It's a part of me now. And I will never know another pain comparable to this, ever.

It will make me stronger. Just like everything else. Yet I will be weak for a long time. Because I became a slave to this twisted dream. But it was my dream. It will never be a nightmare, because it's too beautiful to be called that.

It makes me weak. And it'll make me strong. It changed me, and I will never be the same. It passed the test of time, but not the test of circumstance. It is mine, but I'll never have it. It's what I'm made of, but I'll never embrace it. It's what I want, but not what I need.

It will not be resolved, because it's not a problem. It will not be measured, because I could never show it in full effect. It will never spread its wings... Because it never learned to fly.

It hurts, but it's mine, right? I can't die of this, correct? A body in pain can still live, can't it? A burned soul will still find it's place in this sick world, won't it?

This sweet, gentle poison of seven hundred bees traveling through me... It can't possibly kill me...

... Can it?

Overthinking It

In a conversation, supposedly when you keep quiet, you let the other person assume whatever they want to. If you want the other person to go totally insane, go ahead and ignore their comment, or make vague comments in return, or simply, just smile. It's the oldest trick in the conversation book, and after all these centuries, still the most effectively annoying.

If I had a dollar for every time one of my friends yacked away regarding how their relationship is falling apart, or how so and so dressed like a total slut today, or even how they can't figure out how to handle an issue at work, and I made it a point to let them figure it out on their own, and in turn they overthought about it and assumed I don't give a damn... well, I'd be out of debt.

When did silence become an insult? When did we stop hoping for the best? At what point did we stop assuming our listening friend has enough to worry about and just backed off? Have we become so egotistical that we can't see past what we perceive as the other person's thought, and it's so blindly that we may never get to truly gaze upon their actual concern?

I know what your must be thinking: her new year's resolution is to stop over thinking. But come on, like I (or anyone with friends that are so hard to read) could ever pull that off. This is more the usual rant about how we should really go the extra mile and simply communicate better!

If you know someone over thinks things, why in God's green Earth would you help them? If the second you turn your head they're biting off all their finger nails, shedding out more hair than usual or just not making eye contact... or making too much eye contact! Pick it up, be a pal, offer answers. And if you don't wanna ask what's wrong, at least make the effort to let your friend know you're there for them.

Help them stay off the premises of your business, by being very clear that there really is no business to be concerned with at all. Stop ignoring and start communicating. Words are definitely underrated. When was the last time you left voicemail for someone? No, ya didn't, cause it's too annoying, too time consuming to get through it. Send an impersonal, tactless text message instead. When did we replace feelings and tones with LOLs and emoticons?

God, this post is about as messy and as all over the place as I've been lately. I'm beginning to hate getting old. But if it makes you feel any better, that's it, that's my rant. On to bigger, better things. A completely new year awaits and is almost here. Time to shape up this old body now that I've lost the necessary pounds (now, there's a cliché of a resolution!). Time to offer a better face to these days of uncertainty. Time to stop over thinking so much, bring back asking, and doing everything I can to avoid being ignored.

Get ready world. Operation "Just talk it out" is in full force. Gosh... that is one lame name for an operation... Maybe I can pull something cool off, like the Ninja Report, lol... Ok, here goes... Operation Samurai is ready to be launched!

Hey, I promised less over thinking, not more awesomeness ;-)

Happy 2014, my great ones.

Yani
12/31/2013.-

ReconnEXing with an Old Friend

I always make fun of Yvette this time of the year, because she has this ex-boyfriend that always "checks in" with her around the holidays. I give her a "wicked" hard time because the sucker always hits her up around Christmas. "What, does he, get cold??" I always ask. It's a good running joke.

All kidding aside though, reconnecting with someone is definitely underrated. Be it something tricky, like an ex-boyfriend, or something obvious, like a family member, sometimes it's just so much worth exploring. The rush you get when someone that had been a crucial part of your life years before, and for whatever reason had to exit it, all of a sudden reappears in your life, may very well be like the perfect Christmas gift. It truly is priceless.

Specifically with an ex, a million questions, even if only subconsciously, cross your mind. What are they up to now? How far are they from me, in both presence and in thought? What has changed? Dear God, what has not!?! Will it ever be as intense as before, or will it be calm and caring, and collected and super mild? Did they go through the same thing I did? Did they miss me as much (or as little) as I did? And there's one question that at some point one inevitably asks themself: What would have happened?

What if this person wouldn't have exited my life? Would they still be around? Would we have had a strong relationship? And most importantly, would that relationship have survived all the tests that would come with time, and would we still be together?

I've always said an ex is like an ex job. Whatever went wrong the first time, goes ten times worse the second. So run like it's the apocalypse! But I'm not a fan of generalizing, so I won't. What if the, uh... job is so good, you need it? What if the, uh... satisfaction you used to get gave you such a high, that you never really recovered from it, and once in a while you still have withdrawals?

Be it the feel of their touch, the beauty of their face, the rhythm of the conversations you had with them, the way they gave you their restless, undivided attention, or simply the way they looked at you and you felt like you owned the world... You missed that. You find yourself feeling so strange... ly awesome! And it's goofy, and maybe even inappropriate at times. But it's there, you can't help it. Your feelings weren't dead. They were merely frozen. It doesn't necessarily mean you're still in love with them. God, no. But the ego boost is nevertheless exhilarating.

And the balancing act of not letting this "melting work" get in the way of your everyday... Boy, that can get exhausting. The care with which you explain and review with your loved ones that this will not interfere with your life, or mean anything more than that, reconnecting. If you even go there! Because how many people actually explain something like this to their significant other? Is that something they would even understand or... encourage? Nah, most of it stays in seclusion, a pseudo-complicated secret, or a vague white lie. Because it really doesn't go anywhere, so it's ok.

... Or does it? For others, it can get so twisted. Reconnecting with an ex can put in jeopardy everything they've worked for that makes up their current situation. Old flames spark, some limiting themselves to flirting, others leading to simple (or not so simple) infidelity. If never revealed, the most intense chapters of people's lives get written. If otherwise, relationships, good, durable, meaningful relationships can get sawed in half never to be put back together again.

I have a great relationship with all my exes. We do NOT regularly keep in touch. It's more of a check-in, make sure all is well, talk to ya next year, kinda deal. Super platonic. Rarely ever does it go farther than a few Facebook messages. Cause that's the other thing. Our egos are so ridiculously large, that we have to have them around in our social media. To remind us of the fact that we were once important to them, that the new significant other could never be as hot as us, or simply that... we won!!

So, my dear friends, the next time an ex knocks at your door, don't ignore them. Especially now, it is the holidays, after all. It can be a beautiful thing to rediscover the awesome you that you put in a box and smashed into pieces, with that entire relationship. And it doesn't hurt to keep the peace with the person who may hold a few secrets over your head. Just... also please keep your pants on.

Everyone deserves a hug. This is all virtual, of course, like in the form of a tweet, or a Facebook message. If they actually show up at your door... once again, run like it's the apocalypse!

Happy Holidays, my darlings.

Yanster
12/20/2013.-

Bad Influences

I really, really, REALLY need to tone down this darned negativity. This time it's not my boss picking it up, it's really good friends and co-workers. That is worse in certain ways.

I'm arguing with people about stupid, secondary, unimportant issues, complaints I can fully keep to myself, pet peeves that should be strictly that, peeves, not topics of long, and even public discussions. I'm dropping F bombs like I've never known to do (was never a fan of swearing growing up) I'm putting myself in a super non flattering light that shows such a dramatic, exaggerated side of me. I'm beginning to hate that side.

Living paycheck by paycheck is really taking its toll on me. I know I should be grateful I have a job, I'm healthy, I have a healthy, loving family. It's the stuff I don't have that is getting me as down and out of place as an islander in New England Weather... wait a minute, that's me!

There is so much I should be thankful for. And I am internally. Really. There are moments I can put aside all my frustration and remember that others don't even have families, jobs, a plate on their table. But this is a very difficult country to be a conformist in. This is the country that slaps you in the face with consumerism as soon as you walk out the door.

And this is not a post of all the material things I want for Christmas. Definitely not. This is about those relationships that appear to be slipping away. One specifically. I've done such an outstanding job at becoming more detached with my friends, not expecting them to be in touch with me every day, closing my eyes and hoping for the best if they disappear on me. Hell, I don't even get back to voicemails anymore.

But once in a while I fall off the wagon, and just like an alcoholic that missed his whiskey so damned much, my anxiety is so much worse this time around. I find myself waking up at four, five o'clock in the morning, to try to remember better times, simpler days. Not even from years ago. Just a month ago. Days when one person could come up to me, show me how pretty I apparently am, and I'd actually believe it, and give in, have fun and reciprocate the compliment. Now, even if there were any compliments, which there most certainly are not, I would probably end up feeling like that person wants something.

It doesn't really help that the people I'm talking to the most this week have very little positivity in them to begin with. My sister's got this aggressive road rage that appears to drag on right after she gets out of her car. My associate's going through extremely rough times, she just wants to let go of everything. I've been in that situation before, and if I had a blog back then (and a daughter), I probably wouldn't have considered suicide. My sales rep keeps complaining about the stupidest things. The woman willfully had no kids, owns her own place, and makes good money. Did she really just complain about the company we work for? My AP rep is probably the worst influence. I find myself cackling, laughing at people, not in the cute, "Oh, she's so corky" kind of way, but in the "OMG, can I please beat her up just once" kind of way, each time she steps into my cubicle.

We all live truly great lives. Yet we seem to concentrate on such petty ass things. We need to go back to celebrating people's success, still making fun of them one in a while, of course, but highlighting the fun of it. I think I may start by actually saying "Good morning" to an intern we have. She's never done crap to me, I can't even blame her for distracting me. The fact she annoys me doesn't justify me ignoring her. I'm sure I have characteristics that annoy people. They don't ignore me for them.

I'm pretty sure she's terrified of me, too, the poor thing. A few days ago she ran the other way when I unconsciously sat in the area where she usually sits for the Friday Morning Meeting.

I can't be making people uncomfortable again. Things need to change. I can sit here and blame all the bad influences around me, but at the end of the day, I'm the only one responsible for what comes out of my mouth, the same way I'm the only one responsible for what goes in it.

I'm sure today will be the longest day before my pseudo-experiment. But I plan on keeping positive. Never been a believer of this positive vibes crap, so let's say it's not even with that purpose. Let's just see what happens when I concentrate on those great little things I have, not take for granted all the big ones, and acknowledge, respect and maybe even get to like all the ones in between.

Have a positively wonderful week!!

... k, that was, like, totally pushing it. Sorry. No idea where that came from.

Enjoy your week :-)

YDLC
12/8/13.-

The Good Wife

While you might think that I have forgotten about my blog, it's definitely not the case.

I've been so preoccupied with things that are unimportant, yet urgent, like work, so the blog has had to take a back seat.

Family is still joyfully first, but I've gotta say, I'm so darned grateful to have such awesome, outgoing friends, and such a great life outside of home. Not everyone is blessed with such a great social life in their early thirties, married and with child.  And I've been trying to enjoy every minute of it while I can, and cherish so many moments of unforgettable fun.

Yes, I know I sound like the typical "Whatever I didn't do in my twenties, I wanna do in my thirties!" cliché. But I assure you, my few faithful blog readers, that this is further from the truth than a beggar at a penthouse. It's not that I've decided to put aside my values, and party like a rockstar without thinking of tomorrow. It's not that I have a husband that doesn't care about my decisions. But, nevertheless... I have one amazing relationship. I could sit here and write up an encyclopedia about how great it is, but I'll get to the raw, unfiltered, unapologetic and uncensored point: we have somehow met the point between respecting each other and having an openmind.

I won't bore you with intricate details, just know that you're the lucky recipients of my pseudo-secret. And I'm only posting it because I know your opinions will be valued, and that I'm still calling it a secret because even after I speak to my select group of friends, there's very little agreement, very little grasp of my ideas. So the real value of it doesn't really get shared or experimented.

To make it as simple as possible, my husband has a green light. He can do whatever he pleases with his body, as long as it doesn't affect his ability to take care of me or our daughter. This pertains primarily to that issue that people take so seriously, and that if they didn't, would probably avoid a good chunk of divorces happening every year: cheating.

Yup, you heard it here, first. Mr. Death can cheat. I know I'm defying the laws of physics (especially Hispanic physics!) by thinking this way, but what can I say? You live according to what you learn, feel and see. I've seen so many great marriages end over such an egotistical flaw. Over ego. Over one or two (or twenty) nights of superficial pleasure...

This little agreement, however, and of course, comes accompanied by a set of three rules. Rules that would probably be tweaked if he were suicidal enough to go through with this, haha, but that are there nevertheless:

1) I can definitely, absolutely NEVER find out. Whether it's a one-night stand, or a full-blown affair, I can't know about it. From him, or anyone else. It should forever haunt his conscience, and his alone.

2) He needs to protect himself. Yes, I know a condom comes to mind, but that's not all I'm referring to. I also can't mentally afford an infatuated bitch trying to come up to me and ruin my marriage. He must have the understanding with her that this is what it is, something he needs to get out of his system, that she will never be first, that she is a hole-filler (getting her hole filled... ha!).

3) If I do find out, and this happens to be more of an emotional and mental ordeal, than it is physical, he needs to explore it without me in the picture. If he falls in love, it can only mean he's fallen out of love with me. And life's too short to live with someone you can't make happy. We will figure out a civilized way to exit each other's lives.

I know this all sounds too good to be true, that this is too perfect an agreement to actually work. But keep two things in mind that make this more hypothetical than actual: a) I've never known of him cheating, so I'm on cloud seventeen at the moment and b) I, on the contrary, don't have this magical green light ;-) So I have to be careful not to place myself in situations I can lose control of. Has it still been super close to happening? Have I been ridiculously close to situations where I could be unfaithful if I wasn't so, well, faithful? Yeah... But that, my chums, is another story.

Until then, have yourselves blissful nights. I have to go fulfill my good wife duties now ;-)

Yani DLC
11/8/2013.-

At the End of the Day

Ok, let's try this one more time. I mean I can't close a year that was so great in such a low note.

Because it really was great. I mean, sure I got my guts subtly handed to me, but at least I realized I still have them. And yes, my walls are now up higher than never before, but it was time for new locks anyway. And sure, I am bitter and confused and demotivated, but dammit, I'm only human! I have once again measured my ability to care, my endurance and my selflessness to give a relationship my all.

Certain people (whether they like it or not) have the ability to punctuate, alter or even control my mood at any given moment. Whether it's subconsciously or fully on purpose.

These people have the inner skill, be it a virtue or defect, that they have just the right amount of patience, open-mindedness and insanity to put up with me. To the extent that I actually care what they think of me, I grasp and crave their advice, their presence, and maybe even simply their existence, and knowing that they'll always have a few minutes for me if i happen to remember to call or text.

These are the people that have known me so long I've become beautifully predictable to them, which funny enough has given them the strength and capability to call me a bitch when I'm irreconcilably being one, when I feel I've been put in my place, but deep down I just want them to hug me and remind me that I'm still ok, even when I'll never tell them.

Where the hell was I going with this? Oh! Ok... So, yeah, I'm grateful. Because you, the people that haven't been consumed with egocentric ways (and some of you actually still read this blog still) are part of that certain group. I'm blessed to have friends all over the world. And while I've thanked my party friends, more like family friends, coffee friends, "I forgot you were there, so thank goodness for Facebook" friends.... Today I'm thankful for the friends I can just call up and just plain be. The ones who show empathy, emotion, support and/or hardcore sincerity. The ones who care enough to listen, who fill me in and let me in turn... be specifically for you. You, the creators of great moments, the feeders of my curiosity.

I had never done this, but thank you. For being you, and for sticking around.

Con mucho cariño, feliz 2013...
Yani

He's Back...

Almost closed the year without writing one more post... No, I won't rant about the inevitable, I'm sure you're sick of politics. Allow me to be self-centered for a few minutes. My final time for the year.

Truth is... I'm currently battling one very ugly, very rotten and excruciatingly stubborn demon inside. This subconscious hair in the soup had been present for so long in my life, I got used to it and worked around it SO well, that it actually ended up leaving.

But only for a few months. Almost four beautiful months where it was all so blissful, so primitive, so sublime, yet so impossible. So beautiful, that it became part of me, even after that oh, so strong autopromise that I'd never, EVER let anyone else in again.

So unique and overpowering, that I found myself feeling like I'd never be in control again. I was constantly pondering why in God's green Earth had I allowed myself to be in this place again. But at the same time, begging the same God to make me strong enough to never lose sight of it, never to make me dull enough to lose it. I thought it might end, but never expected it to end so damned soon.

I did all that I could. I hung on as hard, as insisting, as pathetically as I could. None of it was strong, solid or relevant enough. It's over.

My demon's back with a vengeance so gruesome I brace myself at the thought of another sleepless night. He's rocking a gold chain with a pendant as big as his chest that says "I told you so.". And he weakens me with every stare, each reminder of his existence stings like the most heartless wasp.

... Like a cold-blooded, cowardly, ungrateful clown laughing hysterically in my face every chance he gets...

And you know what the funniest part is? ... I'm the only one that can feel this, the only one that can house it. Because the actual CAUSE of it... doesn't even know my demon exists.

Hell, I'd be surprised if he knew "I" still exist.

Anyhow, here's to a... simpler... 2013.

Y.

A Drop of Mercury

Ever had to be so careful of what you said, that you didn't notice how much you lost yourself in the conversation, 'til after the fact?

I am in no way, shape, form or anything related, an expert at communicating. As a matter of opinion, I think what makes communication so wonderful, is that it can't be completely mastered. But I'm usually very good with my words, I know which to say, how to say them, when to say them and when to SAVE them.

Having said that, however, once in a great while someone comes along that makes me feel like an utter amateur. Like I just learned to listen and respond yesterday. Like eggshells are a cushioned floor compared to what I'm walking on. Like I can say my most beautifully and artistically chosen compliment and I'm automatically putting an expiration date on it, because sooner rather than later, I'm going to proverbially drop the slippery ball and say something, for lack of a better word, "stOOpid". And we'll hit an awkward pause in our interaction.

But I care so much about his friendship, that I'm willing to bend over backwards apologizing, be left hanging for long periods of time waiting for some sort of feedback, or at least acknowledgement of the said apology (which... most of the time I don't really understand why I'm the only one apologizing anyways) and overall, I'm willing to forget my confident, pseudo-dominant behaviour and become a submissive child holding a drop of mercury in her hands, freaking out at the thought of dropping it.

I will (as usual) close this post with complete honesty. I don't really know how I'm going to keep this friendship alive. I don't want him to be frustrated. Half of me keeps telling myself that I should just shut up and keep to myself anything that can be misunderstood by him. The other half feels it's important that he knows me as I am. Friendship should NOT be this difficult.

I'm only posting this here because you guys will tell me I'm a little whiny bitch if that's what I'm coming across as. And who better than you to listen, since I believe you know how important friendship is to me?

I'm all ears... err, eyes.

Y.

Lost in Translation

One of my best friends would always tell me back in college that no Gringo would ever understand me as well as a Dominican guy could. And by "understand", she meant everything under the sun: language, mannerisms, traditions, backgrounds, be it social, political, cultural, (... and Jew, lol...) you name it, every way two people can be different.

She would also imply that if I were ever "suicidal" enough to get involved with a Gringo, I'd no doubt drive the poor man crazy. She'd state things like "You think so much about what you're gonna say, that when you finally speak, your brain cells find a way to kill themselves in terror, and that's why halfway down your argument you find yourself sighing and biting your lips. And although it's cute as hell, (k, maybe she didn't say that part) it doesn't get you anywhere".

And "Imagine a poor Americanito, not knowing that we Dominicanas exaggerate and dramatize eh-vryyy-thaaang, trying to decipher all that's coming out of your mouth, while trying not to piss you off, while trying to keep his hard-on 'cause you know the brain and the 'calembo' don't work together all that well..." (this is where I would almost piss myself because she would come up with the best names for penises)... "I'd pity him... and me! 'Cause I'd have to put up with you when you'd finally let him get some while you watched the novela and the issue would never get resolved... So do humanity a favor. Stick to  a Dominican. And never look back.".

Things have changed so much since then. I no longer watch novelas, haha! I don't think all that much before I talk... And interracial relationships are all around me, and I'm not gonna lie, it's a beautiful thing that they've gotten this far. Taking the time to know not only whom you're with, but why they are how they are, the words, the habits, the looks, and my all-time favorite, the body language.

Maybe it's not something I'll ever experience first-hand, but how many things are we not exposed to, that fascinate the hell out of us? Look at my friend from college. She's married to a pretty cool Gringo! Two kids and everything.

Unfortunately something will get lost in translation, no matter where you're from. But it's inevitable, you can't think in someone else's head. You can't control another person's perception. All you can really do is try your best at making sure that what gets lost... is not love.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some sighing and lip-biting to do.

Blessed, yet Unknown

I know I'm blessed. I have a pretty good idea of what it is to be born to a great family. Loving, understanding, and most of all, sacrificial. God blessed me with a support system I've never doubted...

So why on Earth do I feel so damned tiny at a comment I very well could have misunderstood? Why is it I'm so damned emotional that I let a few words smudge so many years of love, kindness and care?

How is it that words, these simple symbols we take for granted and use to create and to destroy have so much power? I think i just answered my own question. They destroy. I feel destroyed.

Yes, I know I'm blessed, but dammit how is it that the main person for which not only did I decide to open up a Facebook account, but also the main reason I kept it... Happens to be the same person that makes an indirect, uncalled for remark that just cannot be misunderstood?

I will always think it. I'm blessed I am the daughter of my father... But after 32 years, he barely knows me.

... I just realized this is the first post I've ever written in English.

100%

Aveces no sabes si el agua está fría, a menos que saltes y te sumerjas. ¿Por qué dejar ir a alguien a quien te has apegado por tanto tiempo, porque ciertas cosas han cambiado... es tan complicado? Si es un apegue absurdo, sin sentido, sin fundamento, basado en fantasías, en todo lo que podía ser, sólo si pasaban otras cosas... Algo sin la menor posibilidad de triunfar. ¿Por qué se nos hace tan imposible?

Yo no tengo ni el tiempo, ni la energía, ni el deseo de averiguarlo ya. Esta mañana desperté más medalaganaria que todas. Borré varios contactos a los que me aferré por tanto tiempo. Hay un punto en que ya no puede ser uno solo quien se aferre. Las fuerzas se van. El corazón es capaz de continuar, pero la mente decide que ya está bueno. Que es una calle de dos vías, y sólo se está transitando para un lado... Que hay que pensar en el cien por ciento.

Nadie merece presentar a otra persona un porcentaje mucho mayor al que ella le presenta en cambio. He tenido la mente abierta para darme cuenta de qué porcentaje me dan algunas personas a quienes tengo (o tenía) en mi vida. No estoy hablando sólo de atención, sino de todos los factores de los que tengo conocimiento: frecuencia de conversación, contacto en las redes sociales que nos dominan, el simple presentimiento de que si llamo, esa persona va a soltar todo y dedicarme varios minutos, y un largo etcétera.

¿Qué sentido posee retener a alguien en tu lista de contactos a quien sabes que no vas a llamar, porque tienes un virus dentro de ti que se llama "dignidad", y es desgraciadísimo? ¿Para qué esperar la llamada de alguien que sabes nunca ocurrirá, y si encima de todo, ocurre, no va a ayudar a mejorar a nada ni a nadie?

Me la puse fácil. Si yo dedico un 100, y el otro dedica 0, borrado. Si él dedica 100 y yo 0, borrado (con el mismo 0 de aviso). Si los dos dedicamos 0, borrado. Para qué sobrecargarse con ceros, si hay tantos 50 y mayores allá afuera, a quienes ahora mismo estoy dedicando 50 o menos?

Está bueno de mojigangas. Estoy demasiado vieja para can. Y sólo me estoy consumiendo en el olvido de otros. La vida no es más que un conjunto de esperas, y de vez en cuando, sorpresas. Y aveces hay que reemplazar la posibilidad de la sorpresa de saber de alguien a quien extrañas tanto, con la posibilidad de demostrarte a ti mismo, que eres capaz de dejarlo ir.

Y.

Hoy es una de esas noches...

... En que quisiera tener acceso a cierta persona aún.

No quisiera que hubiese lugar para quejas aquí, pero es tan fácil quejarse de lo que uno no tiene, de lo que a uno le falta, de lo que nunca va a volver a tener y de lo que uno quisiera no necesitar, no querer... No Cravear.

Casi como fue tan fácil prometernos siempre estar ahí si uno necesitaba al otro.

... Hoy no será la única noche.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you, too.
Don't forget me, I begged, I remember you said,
"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead..."

Agosto...

Hay algo podrido dentro de mí. Ha algo irremediablemente putrefacto aquí dentro de mi alma que no me deja hacer lo que quiero hacer. Es algo tan incómodo que nosotros, simples y débiles humanos hacemos algo más grande de lo que es, más limitante, más poderoso. Algo que con tanta facilidad nos impide buscar a esa persona con un simple “hola”, un simple “cómo estás?”, un simple “perdón”, o el más emotivo y justificado “feliz cumpleaños”.

Y sí, sé que prometí (a mí misma y al blog) que este sería prácticamente el único medio por el que diría estas cosas, ya que las varias personas que aún lo leen, son mis confidentes de todos modos, y si alguna vez fuera a ser clara sobre lo que vivo, sin duda ellos serían los primeros en saberlo. Pero carajo, qué desgracia ser simplemente humano, no poder ser robot y apagarse. O poder desactivar ciertas memorias, ciertas emociones, ciertos fracasos.

Hay algo podrido dentro de cada uno de nosotros. Que no nos deja simplemente tomar el teléfono, marcar esos diez sagrados dígitos y arriesgarse a la tortura de encontrarse con un correo de voz, un timbre eterno, o peor, de escuchar la persona que se tiene tanto tiempo que no se escucha, y no saber reaccionar, qué decir, o actuar como un adolescente egoísta, y simplemente colgar. O la peor de las circunstancias, llamar, hablar, y no obtener el resultado que uno quiere. Pero y si uno no sabe qué resultado quiere? Si uno cree que quiere que pase algo, pero al pasar uno se halla en un lugar peor que donde estaba antes de marcar?

... Algo me dice que me esperan muchos Agostos como este :-)

Feliz cumpleaños.

Todo... Realmente es Nada

A casi cumplirse un año de mi último post, me encuentro aquí de nuevo. Porque aveces por más que te piensas independiente de algo, te empeñas en continuar agarrándolo, alimentándolo, nutriéndolo, y quedándote con todos los deseos de que continúe viviendo.

No pasa un día sin que piense en él. Cuando pasas casi cinco años jodiendo con algo, y lo ves crecer, y te haces parte de él, y él se hace parte de ti... No es algo que olvidas de un día para otro. Como una relación absurda, enfermiza, que sabes que no irá a ninguna parte, pero que sientes no eres nada sin ella.

Es curioso como dedicas tanto ánimo, energía, motivación y empeño (sin querer mencionar el dinero y enfado por parte de terceros) en algo que sabes que es tan efímero. Y es más curioso como ese algo derepente (y tan crudamente) te desinteresa.

Los humanos somos TAN malagradecidos... El blog no esperaba nada de mí, no esperaba que yo publicara a diario, ni semanal, ni mensual. Sólo quiso saber de mí esa vez. Sólo me mandaba recordatorios al e-mail, que nunca leí, que nunca quise leer, que seguro borré ya.

Todo lo que sientes, lo que vives, de lo que crees que estás hecho, lo que crees que nunca dejarás de sentir, y que ha sido la mejor parte de tu existir... Realmente es la NADA más grande de tu vida. La nada que llega y te choca la cara, y te deja un dolor de varios días. Y digo días, porque (gracias a Ese Dios) no hay mal que se te pegue de forma tan permanente. Eso de que "No hay mal que dure cien años" es mi esperanza.

Pero mi blog sabe que tarde o temprano siempre aparezco. Tenemos una relación de amor y odio que dudo mucho terminará alguna vez. Lamentablemente, la persona que me llega a la mente con todo esto, no corre la misma suerte. A ese no me le vuelvo a aparecer nunca.

Muere Yani… Por Distraída

I can't think, think with all this craziness..
I lose sleep just daydreamin’ ‘bout you baby…
I'm going crazy, crazy, crazy, just thinkin’ about you lately
I'm going crazy, crazy, crazy, just thinkin’ about you baby
I'm going crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, thinkin about you lately
I'm going crazy, crazy… Cause I can't touch you
Crazy, crazy… ‘Cause I can't hold you
Crazy, crazy… ‘Cause I can't see you again…

Últimamente estoy experimentando a primera mano que la mente funciona directamente con el cuerpo. Siempre lo había escuchado de otras personas. “Desde que me despidieron de Hooters, no se me quita un dolor de cabeza de pensar en cómo voy a conseguir trabajo…”, “Mi sistema digestivo está vuelto un etcétera desde que preñé a Simplicia” (no exactamente lo dijo así, pero creo que me entendieron ;-)), “Desde que Tiburcio se fue, no salgo de un decaimiento…”. Entonces la gente tiene un pensar de que el alcohol o el cigarrillo mejoran esto. Si ustedes han comprobado que esto es cierto, entonces me avisan, pa’ comprarme par de Newports (sí, si me voy a fumar algo, va a ser grande) y acompañarlo con un galón de Midori Sour o mínimo con Walker Negro.


Me he vuelto una distraída, y mi cuerpo está pagando seriamente. Hace una semana, mami vino a traerme cena (thanks, mom!). La puerta que separa el pasillo de las escaleras en el edificio donde vivo, tiene un manubrio (yo pensé que era “manubio” que se decía) que parece que lo fabricó un narcotraficante a quién andaban buscando, y todo lo que instalaba podía ser usado como arma blanca. La vaina tiene un filo que ni la lengua ‘e mime de mi padrino. Para colmo, hay que ponerle un deslizador para que cierre al paso, ya que por default se cierra de golpe, para que no entre mucho frío. Abrí la puerta, y entré detrás de mami. En ese instante, por la otra puerta salía el delivery guy de UPS. De repente recordé un día hace tres meses en que me paraba cada 30 segundos de mi cubículo, en el trabajo, esperando el carajo de UPS para que recogiera un paquete que estaba desesperada de que saliera. Pues en ese recordar (porque nunca termina ahí, después pensé en lo que iba a enviar, en cada cosa que puse en esa caja, en lo emocionada que estaba, etc.) Na’má sentí el “PRAN” en la baja espalda, y na’ma me salió el “OOOooohhh…”, como dijo Ben Stiller en “Something about Mary” cuando la cosita se le quedó atrabancá en el zipper.

Lo lindo fue que mami no se dio cuenta. Es mejor así, ya ella tiene una ridícula cantidad de preocupaciones. Me preguntó “Y qué fue?” Y le achaqué el gritico a la emoción de comer mangú con queso de freír. Y al preguntar “Por qué cojeas?” cuando entré a la cocina detrás de ella, nada más me salió decir que tenía el pie dormido. Ahí ando con un mora’o que parezco víctima de violencia doméstica.

Si sigo pensando tanto, voy a parar muerta. Para poner el desastre más feo, hacer par de días venía bajando de las escaleras de la niñera (La suerte es que Mr. Death iba alante con la niña), y de repente me di cuenta (nunca lo había hecho) de que el parquecito de en frente del edificio de ella es como un Central Park microscópico. Entonces me puse a pensar en cuánto quisiera ir, y recordé una foto que tengo de alguien tirado en la grama, totally relaxed, en el medio de Central Park. En esa “ida” me di un “Central” doblón de tobillo que dio como consecuencia que me e’trallara contra el riel de acero de las escaleras. El lado izquierdo de la cara, con to’ y oreja, el hombro derecho (yes, el ala rota que siempre trato de cuidar, thank you), el brazo y la muñeca, todos colapsaron contra el riel, y sentí un dolor que me llegó a las entrañas. Para no terminar de caerme, apoyé la rodilla derecha en uno de los escalones, y las 15 libras que tengo de más me pesaron como nunca. Tan sólo me salió un doloroso “Ce-bo-llaaaaaa!!”, y Mr. Death se devolvió con lo mismo que mami: “Y qué fue?” (Esa frase la deberían prohibir!!). Cuando pude levantarme, me entró un jodío dolor de cabeza, rodilla, tobillo, brazo y trasero (no pregunten) que hoy todavía tengo. Y como no dejo de pensar… Aquí ando escribiendo.

Como Morpheus le dijo a Neo en “The Matrix”, “El cuerpo no vive sin la mente”. Tengo que dejar de pensar en que voy a perder la mente, antes de que pierda la vida.

Si no publico en par de meses, chequen el obituario!

Y.

Tokio es un Espejismo (II)

Yani_Brain: Miérquinaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, duraste mucho para buscarme!
Ice_Iris: Imagina… Puedes adivinar.
Yani_Brain: Oh, shit. Pasó?
Ice_Iris: Anjá.
Yani_Brain: Damn… Y cómo te sientes?
Ice_Iris: Como que me están clavando agujitas bieeeeeeeeeen filosas y venenosas por todo el cuerpo.
Yani_Brain: Exagerada.
Ice_Iris: Ya quisiera. Pero en realidad se siente como si cada cinco minutos me pasara una población de hormigas rojizas hambrientas por encima.
Yani_Brain: Vieja, pero… pero… pero… Y entonces?
Ice_Iris: Nada, imagina. La vida sigue.
Yani_Brain: Claro, pero… Hmmmmmmm… Quieres hablar de eso?
Ice_Iris: Y QUE CARAJOS ESTAMOS HACIENDO?
Yani_Brain: Sorry, pero sabes que aveces uno rompe a hablar y a preguntar, y cuando viene a ver el otro está hablando por cortesía.
Ice_Iris: Habla y pregunta.
Yani_Brain: Cómo sucedió?
Ice_Iris: A ver… Na, empezó a andar con una caraja ahí.
Yani_Brain: Ouch.
Ice_Iris: Nisiquiera es eso. Es la forma en que lo manejó todo. Ni bien habíamos acordado alejarnos, me salta con que está saliendo con ella, así sin delicadeza, como si yo tuviera tornillos en vez de venas. Es verdad que yo le dije que iba a intentar ser su amiga, pero c*ño, demasiado rápido.
Yani_Brain: Yeah, eso estaba muy fresco.
Ice_Iris: Entonces me dice que la besó y todo. Qué necesidad de saber eso tenía yo? Yo estaba muy bien, carajo! Una cosa es cuando se te va un concho porque el chofer no te vio, y otra MUY diferente cuando luego el chofer se da cuenta (UNA ESQUINA MAS PARA ADELANTE) que le hiciste seña, pero ya en esa esquina hay otra caraja que se mete en TU asiento sin piedad alguna. Yani_Brain: Loca, qué metáfora má' á'pera.
Ice_Iris: Shut the fuck up! Me siento tan mal... I feel like I'm dying...
Yani_Brain: Tranquilízate. Ya se te pasará. De esto nadie se muere, mana!
Ice_Iris: Eso es lo que me duele más. Que cuando se me pase, no me va a quedar nada más que tristeza. Como cuando te comes una naranja con todo y cáscara, sure, el interior es bien fuerte, pero la cáscara te deja un maldito sabor en la boca…
Yani_Brain: Hablando de labios, y todo eso tan chulo…
Ice_Iris: No, yo no he hecho nada después de él. Ahí es donde yo hallo que me falló.
Yani_Brain: Vieja, pérate… Cómo que no?
Ice_Iris: No! Yo sé que era un sueño inalcanzable, pero desde que yo lo conocí no me salía más que pensar en él. Y así yo no podía salir con más nadie, y por supuesto, tampoco andar en aquello.
Yani_Brain: O sea, que tú como quien dice te virginizaste de nuevo!
Ice_Iris: C*ño… Yo no sé para qué yo hablo contigo!!
Yani_Brain: Mana, es que es verdad! No es por malo, pero es que me asombra que sin ustedes tener algo te mantuviste fiel full!
Ice_Iris: It doesn't matter. Ya nada importa. Las cosas nunca van a ser como antes. Y si antes yo no tenía esperanzas, ahora es que yo estoy muerta por dentro.
Yani_Brain: :-(
Ice_Iris: :-)
Yani_Brain: …
Ice_Iris: Eres bien amable.
Yani_Brain: Y tú bien fuerte… Pero ya, mira, en serio, no te agobies. El no sabía que tú en realidad tenías esperanzas. A lo mejor cuando él se resignó, ya tú le habías dado todas las señales de que tú estabas resignada a que nada iba a pasar con ustedes. Además, recuerda que no tiene la experiencia que tú, puede que no sepa cuándo hablar y cuándo no, y eso fue lo que sucedió.
Ice_Iris: Lo único que me alienta es que él debe de estar pensando en todo una centésima de lo que yo.
Yani_Brain: No te creas, él se enamoró de ti.
Ice_Iris: Eso se acaba. La vida sigue, y ahora va la parte más difícil para mí…
Yani_Brain: …
Ice_Iris: … Dejarlo ir.

(Months later…)

Yani_Brain: If you know FOR A FACT that it's not gonna work… Why do you still try?? (Si sabes de antemano que NO va a funcionar, por qué sigues intentando??)
Ice_Iris: Porque no pensé, sólo sentí.
Yani_Brain: Por qué alimentas algo que por más vida que te ha dado, está más muerto que tu sentido común?
Ice_Iris: Porque estoy enamorada.
Yani_Brain: Es como cuando te caes de una silla para atrás, noy hay pataleo que valga, irremediablemente vas para el suelo.
Ice_Iris: Yo pensé que iba a caer en sus brazos y que nunca me soltaría.
Yani_Brain: Bullshit!! Te dije que te iba a romper el corazón una vez más! Te lo dije! No quería que llegara a esto, pero te lo dije, te lo dije, te lo dije!!
Ice_Iris: I fell in love.
Yani_Brain: Entonces recuerdas todo lo que ignoraste, todo lo que dejaste crecer sin ponerle asunto, te das cuenta de TODO el tiempo que perdiste por estar pendiente de algo tan inestable!
Ice_Iris: No perdí tiempo, fue el mejor tiempo de mi vida. No era inestable, era bello, es lo más seguro que he sentido, lo más profundo, lo más intenso…
Yani_Brain: Y lo más hiriente! Te estás haciendo daño! Te veo morir por dentro poco a poco por querer atrapar con tus manos algo evaporable, esto no puede continuar…
Ice_Iris: No puedo creer que todo fue un sueño. No quiero creerlo.
Yani_Brain: Tienes razón en algo, fue un sueño MUY lindo… Pero ya es hora de despertar. Asume tus responsabilidades y déjalo ir.
Ice_Iris: Yeah… todo pasará pronto.
Yani_Brain: Ustedes son MUY dichosos que de esto sólo salieron heridos ustedes dos. Mantenlo así!
Ice_Iris: No saldrá herido nadie más. Aquí termina esta historia. Es hora de despertar.
Yani_Brain: Vas a salir de esta bien, te lo prometo.
Ice_Iris: Y yo te lo aseguro… Esto no me pasa de nuevo.
Yani_Brain: …
Ice_Iris: …
Yani_Brain: Porque aprendiste la lección?
Ice_Iris: … Porque jamás volveré a amar así.