Scar Tissue

            What does falling in love feel like?  Even though I've only been single for four months, the nostalgia is starting to rip through the cement that has engulfed my heart from my last heartbreak.

      When my ex decided that he wanted a more independent life and gave up on the love I confidently had given him, it felt like I was anviled with the illusion that what I had was genuine love that was strong enough to pull through any obstacles.  Unfortunately, I was slapped in the face for the second year in a row.  The first stages of grief were interesting.  Of course I was crying when I was alone and had shoulders to cry on with very trusted friends.  I guess the hurt was less apparent because there were many people around for me.  Then I was in this phase of an extra independent confidence.  "I am woman, I need no man!".  Which has always been true, although, this time around I was wearing that feeling on my sleeve.  I went back to my old routine of phoning up old sex buddies and in addition experiencing a one night stand.  After going through three usuals and one fun Halloween night, I got tired, bored and frustrated at the inconsistency of their availability.  This time around, it was easier to blow off men when they haven't been responsive.  This even applied to male friends who are too pussy to be themselves because they are afraid of getting into the unnecessary arguments that their girlfriends would put them through because they are hanging out with a single attractive female friend. Yes, I know that sounds cocky, but it's true.  Not to say that I don't understand that they are threatened by me, but not even for a real particular reason.  After trying to fight for a friendship with one of my male friends and his psycho bitch, I decided to not even bother because I have no time for that nonsense.  After getting bored and tired from my lover's inconsistency, I decided to jump in head first in the dating game and see if I found myself a new potential.  My original mission was to not make the moves anymore and try to get a guy to go out with me, but I was growing impatient.  New hire, he is handsome and slightly my type.  I don't even know him that well, so I was really going with my physical attraction to him.  After throwing several hints about spending some "alone time" per say,  he seemed completely oblivious to the whole come on.  So I decided to give up on him because if he was even a slight bit attracted to me, he would have already caught on.  Even though I see him now and then and I swoon at his such handsome looks, but that there was a dead end.  I kept looking, hinting different potentials, but it just didn't work out.  The last time I confessed my attraction to someone I was slightly under the influence.  I knew he might of not taken me seriously anyway since I did forewarn him about my prior intoxication.  Even though I did caution him, I didn't tell him that it took me a lot of balls to say what I had said to him and keep it as PG as possible.  He appreciated my confession as a compliment and told me to go to bed. That was the last time that my confidence was shut down and again I decided to not even bother with any man anymore.

       Of course, the heartbreak still hurts the same even after this long.  After giving up on looking for any potential others, my mind went directly back to thinking about Stephen.  I thought about all the good times, the bad times in which I just should have walked away or walked out on.  I thought about the warm and the times we connected.  The times in which we both felt like we were slipping away from each other.  It wasn't a very long term relationship, but I learned so much from it.  I learned to love myself the way I am, I loved him for all that he was, both flaws and his best qualities.  I was felt like I  was only growing with this man.  No, it wasn't that way.  He was looking for ways to get out when all I wanted was soar high.  I never said I was the perfect person.  I had my defects that I was working on, I was trying very hard.  He had so many defects that he decided not to work on but I decided to accept because it just wasn't personally that life altering.  This has been frustrating me for so long.  Yet I still want to be by his side.  Is this love?  Or is this what is leaking through the cracks of my nostalgic stone heart.  I don't want to see him ever again, as much as I miss him, want to touch him and kiss him.  I think my heart would fill up with anger and sadness that I wouldn't be able to control myself from shaking and crying.  There has been so many chances I could've gone and seen him at work, or in the train by coincidence.  So many times that I could've called him or message him to tell him how much I love him, how much I want him back in my life, how happy I was when I was with one of my best friends, him.  Now i'm here preventing myself from crying in public from all these feelings and emotions building up.  I wish that even the thought of love wasn't this hard on me.  I wish that the thought of him didn't cripple me into this sadness that makes me resort to hurting myself through smoking, sex and alcohol.  Those three things mean nothing to me.  The temporary bliss that used to help me eliminate time, memories and emotions just hasn't done it for me for this one.  What does it mean?  I don't have the get out of jail card with this situation.  Every day it feels like i'm puling out threads of memories out of my skin with no end to be seen in sight.


        I do want to be in a relationship,  I really do.  However, it just doesn't seem like I am meant to meet my soul mate on this plane.  I don't even remember what falling in love feels like anymore.  I see it, or better said, been seeing it happening a lot recently.  People pair up, confess it to the world and happiness commences.  I see them and try to remember what I had but then the feelings just don't connect.  I am happy for them, none the less.  I just don't understand what they're feeling anymore.  Then I see couples fighting and don't understand why they should bother with such.  I see people second questioning people who love them and it makes no sense.  Why would someone give up on such a gift because of stupid, petty, arguments.  It's so frustrating.  It's so annoying to see people not appreciate the fact that they at least have someone to fucking talk to or think about at the end of the fucking day. All of this just kills my desire to be with someone. My heart has been broken so many damn times that I don't know how much more I can take.

Sola otra vez
Es como una historia que ser repita cada otro mes
Que se puede hacer
Volver ha ser triste con esta pobrez.

       I don't know...why it seems like I have the worst luck in love.  I've learned from my mistakes, I did right, I just had one challenge left and still I failed... no matter how well I treated him, no matter how much I loved and cared for him, no matter HOW much I supported him, no matter HOW much I overlooked his flaws,  it STILL wasn't enough.  He gave up  on me.  Love was not enough and it discourages the hell out of me.

       Recently I had found out that one of my friends is pregnant.  It was a huge surprise with the history she had.  She had found happiness.  Someone who wants her, wants to have a baby with her, someone who loves her.  She's intelligent, strong, funny, outgoing, why not? I am happy for her.  It just discourages me even more.  My friend, Jen who already has a baby is getting married next year and I'm going to be the Maid of Honor.  My friend, Seth had his daughter about a year ago.  He wanted to have a child so badly and his happiness is complete as I see it on his face.  My friend, Alejandro, as much as a casanova he was back in college, he unexpectedly settled down with an older woman and had a child.  A child?! Him?? He was happy. When I thought a Taurus and a Scorpio can never make it together, here comes my friend, Andrea and was surprised with a proposal on stage.  A couple of years later they have lovely twins.  Age range 24 to 26.  I'm about to turn 26.  No real life yet, no husband, no man, no children. My sisters had all of these when they were my age... donde esta mi chance???

               I don't want to be 35 looking for a suitor at a sperm bank because of the fact i'm desperate for a child.and I haven't found a good man.  I'm so tired of starting over again with relationships.  I love them, but I hate that it takes years for the man to finally decide to propose and then possible a couple more years after that to finally decide to have children.  I'm 26! I DON'T HAVE FUCKING TIME FOR THAT!  As much as I love my "freedom" per say as a young woman, I've seen the ultimate happiness in my sisters' and friends' faces when they have them.  Their life hasn't stopped because of their children.  Their life actually stepped up a level in what living is supposed to mean.  Death, Birth, Rebirth.  Yeah, I have passions in life that have nothing to do with trying to have a family life.  However... I thought I'd be successful by now but my fucking depression always backtracked the hell out of my fucking goals.  My failures and constant heartbreaks in love disabled my soul and passions.  I'm trying my best this time to at least support myself on one leg and a pathetic excuse for a cane, here.

            September 1st.  I turn the page on my ASPCA calender and I see an ugly white ferret posing against a pillow as if it were one of those Victoria Secret underwear models.  This is what this month is going to turn out to be.  A pathetic, fucking rat animal.  I guess it was best suited for the month anyway.  I could've had an arrogant cat or a naive, ignorant dog  Yes, this describes my life this month at best.  Another broken heart.  Another fucking WASTED YEAR.  I'll be alone again.  I'm not celebrating my birthday this year nor am I contemplating to acknowledge that 2012 has arrived.  I really do hope it's the end of the world.  It seems like everyone else has fulfilled it better than I had.  I just have constant dissapointment.  Unable to fucking fly off my feet but just slightly and momentary hover over the cement and then just abruptly and on cue fall on top of a pile of rusty, sharp nails.


 I just hate my life.  I hate it with an immense passion right now.

Close Your Eyes and All Will Be Fine

My sister Alex and I.

                  I cannot stand how much pain is going through this family of mine.  My mother being constantly accused of being useless, ignorant, stupid and naive for the modern thinking of this country or New York, specifically.  My sister, Ruby, constantly needing to look for a fight with people because that's her outlet for the many rough things that's going through her own life.  My sister, Alexandra and her daughter, Nicole, not meeting eye to eye with anything at all resulting in constant fighting with the choice of weapons consisting of verbal and mental abuse.  And then, myself.  I cannot do anything because I already know that because I have been diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, that I have no significant say or solution with the problems occurring within the family.

               I have been mentally, verbally and physically abused throughout my childhood.  When I bring it up to my sister, Ruby or my Mother, they become defensive and dismiss it as just a lie.  I have been slapped in the face and head by my sisters and mother.  Slapped, verbally and mentally abused, kicked in the ribs by my sister Ruby.  Of course, I must admit, that being kicked in the ribs was deserved in a way because I called her a bitch.  In my defense, I knew I couldn't hit her back and she wasn't listening to what I was saying to the point that the only way I knew would sting would be calling her such.  What triggered such word?  Telling me: "You are fat", "You are ugly", "You don't have any friends", "You're a pig", "you're a cow", "get off of your fat ass",  "Stupid", "Retard", "Idiot", "Dumb-Ass", "You're not worth anything".  Mind you, at the age that I remember being told this, I was probably 8 or 9 years old.  I possibly did deserve some slaps in the face because I did talk back, acted like a brat and such, but, hey....what the fuck do you think a child of that fucking age does? Yeah, it's true.  I didn't have many friends. I only had a couple.  I kept myself away from everyone because of the fact that there was so much going on at home and I just didn't want to talk about it because I knew the harsh nature of little girls and a classroom group that was notorious for being the worst teasers of even the most minute thing such as being of Indian descent (from India, that is).  I didn't want to involve myself with horrible people, so I kept to myself and I didn't care whatsoever that I was by myself.  I was a very detached child.

                I do remember the point in which a slap in the face did not make my cry anymore.  My mother gave me the last slap in the face and I just looked at her straight in the eye, no tear, no defensive move, just stood still like a statue with a response of  "No me toces!" ("Do not touch me!").  She realized that form of discipline was ineffective and insignificant and left her completely powerless.  After that, we only fought each other verbally.  There was no more mental abuse, no more verbal abuse.  I knew exactly what would hurt her.  However, because I did love my mother and hate to see her cry, I didn't pull out that card unless I was really pushed to the edge.  We actually grew closer and closer as the years went by and I started being away from home more and more.  She understood I was a child born of this modern world and that I haven't done anything to be mistrusted.  As for my sisters; Alex married and had children at a young age.  Therefore, she was a child having a child. Had three kids, an unsupportive husband and a dead end life.  She, of course, did not take it out on me. We actually became closer because we realized how similar we were with the modern ways of thinking. She did, unfortunately, take it out on my niece, Nicole.  Which in turn, Nicole became unruly, disrespectful, misunderstood, a consistent liar, loud mouthed, and intolerant.  It angers me when she acts this way.  However, I understood that her actions were due to the fact that her parents divorced when she was 9 years old and she was very heartbroken that her beloved father, who always took her side, moved out to Miami and she that she could never see him as much as she used to. Kelly and David both knew their father, however, they were too young to remember the events or recollect how close they were to him. Ruby, on the other hand, always was a moody person.  Very angry for reasons I did not know, but the way she felt empowered and unstressed was if she picked a fight with the most vulnerable person she could find; Me. Even though we are now both adults and she is 11 years my senior, she still takes out her anger on me.  I understand why she does it, but I also know that I completely DON'T deserve it. I just stay away as much as possible.  She has a beautiful son that I dearly love.  However, he is starting to act up, like any child would and hopefully nobody follows the same traditions of discipline with him. Our family grew with the Latino tradition of slapping a child or hitting them with an object as a form of corrective action.  I am not saying it's the right thing to do.  It is, indeed a cultural thing.  Joked amongst many Latino comedians.  PERFECTLY described by George Lopez in his stand up special, "Why You Crying".  I guess that's their way of teaching us to be tough with the harsh realities of life and not cry about everything.  Like I said, this is, of course, not the right way about going with this sort of subject.  I am first generation Ecuadorian American and I will not bring these outdated traditions onto the next.

                             

               My father was right to leave this family, even if he isn't a saint himself.  He was always able to talk things through without needing the use of physical corrective action. I only remember three instances where he slapped me in the face and that's because I was losing my temper and he had lost his patience.  My father is a great person. As a father.  As a husband, he did cheat on my mother many instances for many years thinking that she would not find out or put two and two together.  She had the right as a wife to ask him what's going on.  My sisters knew this as well, but for some reason they had forgotten how he, too, called my mother stupid and ignorant and many other awful things when they were both fighting.  I did not hear any of this, but my mother always told me about my father saying such and being unfaithful.  I knew that my father was not a good husband.  He was a great father who never abandoned his family, continued to be supportive of his ex-wife and their children for many years after their divorce when I was just a child myself.  This is why I understand Nicole to a certain extent.  My  half-sister, Nataly, mostly grew up with my father.  She was living with my mother and sisters for a very long portion of her life until she realized that the mental and verbal abuse was way too much for her and she decided to leave and not speak to my mother for possibly until four years ago when I was admitted in the Mental Ward at Bellevue Hospital.  That's when my family all came together for me.  It seems as if they have forgotten what it is to be a supportive family, though.  Nataly never abused me. She was the best, most loving, nurturing sister out of all.  She was always the positive reenforcement in my life.  She always had positive things to say to me, always involved me in so many positive activities.  I love her so much. She is gentle, soft speaking, beautiful in EVERY sense.  When she moved out, it was as much as a heartbreak as when my father moved out.  She was always around for me, though.  Never abandoned me during the worst events of my life.



                With the current events that are going on in my family, I feel like I will be sucked into them and will suffer the feud that I know I cannot do anything about.  I am so desperate to leave this house and try to just escape it.  The only people I know who would need me are my father and mother once they are very old and incapable of living their lives as they use to.  As for my nieces and nephews, I love them so much because they are my sister's children, therefore, it's as if they are my own children as well.  I need to escape, though.  I need to find my career very soon.  I have to get the hell out so I won't be sucked into this.            

               

Morning Sunshine

                        It never fails.  I don't hear from a person for an extended period of time, especially after a few confessions of some form of affection and I go right back into that mentality I used to have when I was single for five years.  The experience may differentiate between people.  I look outside at the sun hitting the building and amplify its color and it's angle structure.  I am reminded of summer, but not only that, I am reminded about how there was no man out there who was thinking about me, loving me, missing me and how barren it felt like the clear blue sky.  Yes, a contradictive and odd comparison.  I start to relate myself to objects that have no life but are still there.  Seen every day from morning to night.  Rarely touched but recognized for their occasional use.  Then I remember how emotionless and apathetic I become towards the rest of the world when my own mind becomes just as barren.  

                        I go into the kitchen and i'm reminded why I hate being here.  "Doesn't matter if we're rich or poor, we are all going to die in the end.  Right, Daughter?"  Indeed I do know.  However, for a twenty-five year old, I don't need to be reminded how far away death really is for me and how conveniently close it is for my mother.  I do not fear death.  All I know how much pain it causes for the living.  I have only been to one funeral in my entire life and it was my best friend's grandmother who has personally been like a grandmother to me.  I saw the collective pain by people you've never seen so heartbroken before and that in itself is what breaks your own heart more than the death itself.  The only people who will really break my heart if they were dead are my immediate family and they are all still here even though they have moved on to their own lives.  I'm left behind with the mother who, very enthusiastically, can't wait till her last day arrives.    

                         I used to think of my own death constantly for a period of time.  Mostly because I was so lonely and it led me to believe that if no one wants me, if I don't benefit someone, not even myself, why should I continue to exist nonsensically?  And even after a failed attempt to seal my own fate's "fín", I realized that I am meant to be here for the rest of my life trying to figure out my place, worth, meaning in this world without any real direction or hint to what all the answers to those are.  I envy and am positively stimulated by those who has chosen their paths and are whole-heartedly galloping successfully right through it.  They were lucky to know what they want.  For me, my mind is always changing.  Never really wanting to do just one thing and dedicating to it because I know that I will soon get tired and just want to jump to the next option.  It is very odd, though, that I am not that way with my relationships.  I don't like jumping from one man to another.  I hate the idea of starting over again, building hopes and dreams and trying to follow through with them.  If I lead myself to have these expectations in a relationship, I know that I will expectedly be disappointed with the results that don't end up to be the way I hoped they'd be.  Of course, when I start to love somebody, the thoughts themselves can't help themselves but dance around my imagination.
                        
However, what would you do when you know that there may be a possible expiration date come three months from now and this isn't because of relationship problems or anything of that sort, but because of financial situations?  This is indeed a true test of love.  I wouldn't be going anywhere but he would.  Far away.  Will the love be that strong that it will inspire him to just stay in this town any possible way he can?  Or will he understandably go back home to pursue his life's strong desire without having any issues about money?  Only time will decide that.  I want to be one-hundred percent in this relationship because of how right it feels.  We both want artistic pursuits, want to move out to the west coast, have similar understanding and acceptance about our lifestyles which causes no conflict with how we live our own lives separately, we have the same sense of humor, we have so much passion about our freedoms.  His family is amazing, his relationship with his siblings are just as great, why wouldn't I want a man who has a great background?  His friends are another story, a few of them very welcoming, a couple of them suspecting, but it's not as if I don't know how to work around that.


                             I guess this is why, as I look out the window with no thought at all at the bare morning sunlit building wall, I feel just as empty as I was for five years when I hear from nobody at all.  Especially from the man who I am becoming very in love with.

Addictions with Contradictions

                   I have realized how much sex used to be my first drug. It is an addiction used as a temporary remedy. Alcohol is my second drug followed by weed. When I'm faced with a tough situation in regards to love, I always want to go out, look for someone to fuck to validate my detachment from love inflicted pain. Every time my mind wandered to a negative universe, in which it needs accelerated time to forget, I smoke. When I want to do something stupid, I resort to alcohol.

                   I fell into this insecurity that I haven't felt in such a long time. It was a strong felt vibe from a stranger's house that said "you don't belong here, nor with him, nor in this situation". This made me really sad b/c usually my intuition speaks louder than my mind. And all I want to do is go and fuck someone so my heart won't break and to convince myself that this is just another temporary remedy. I don't need any more weights to keep me from floating above water. Its already difficult when the heaviest part of your soul is your stone, cold heart.

                       This man's capability to almost reach the innards of my heart is actually very much a miracle. Such a sweet person, but I still can't let my guard down.

Rocks

Some ppl find the love of their lives early in the relationship and grow old together. I, on the other hand, have tripped on a rock and got so much dust in my eyes that its been taking a while to clean out.

Dawning

                                  When you're on the train, especially a stagnant one, no signal and on the last drop of battery on your iPod, you are forced to have time with yourself.  That thinking time that you avoid every day so you won't go insane. However, being seated around mostly men at 4:30 a.m. in the morning, you can't do much but sit around and try not to make any eye contact with any of them for the fear that just a glance is a silent invitation. They are curious about why there is a woman at this hour of the night "Is she a stripper? Has she come from a club? Why is she carrying around a big bag?"  Men's disgusting minds just run deep as they either look at me with their peripherals or they have the balls to just stare straight at me. I don't like being looked at. Especially if you're ugly.