Fatalistic or not…

There’s this thing… a lot lately. They started asking again. “When will you get married… time is passing… you’re already 31..”…. Family as usual. I wouldn’t say I didn’t expect it, I would just say that I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I feel the pressure of it more now.

But I don’t think it’s that easy. As they pictured it to be. In my opinion is not. They say “Find someone and settle down and give me some grandchildren or some nieces/nephews.” But is it really that easy?

Because I don’t see myself ready. I don’t see myself able to take care of anybody else right now. And God knows I love children to pieces and being around them really makes me happy but the problem is with me. I’m afraid of failure, I’m afraid of being bad as a mother, as an example to my children. I’m afraid of  what we are all afraid of. But I’m afraid with practice. If that makes any sense, It’s just that I’ve been digging into myself for way too long to ignore what kind of issues I have.

And you know what just crossed my mind. That it will be actually the best thing to do. To have children. And you know what the first thing that reasoned this idea was? That if you have children, you’ll never be alone. And if you’re not loved, they will always love you. You will have somebody to hug everyday. You will have somebody who will hold your hand and call you mommy for a few sweet years. And you will have someone to be proud of years after.

And then it hit me. Isn’t this the biggest sign of selfishness? Yes they will give me all that, but what will I give in exchange because God knows I’ m not one of His best ones. What if I’m not able to give my children what they need and they’ll turn out just like me. What if they’ll be broken and damaged and they’ll not know what to do with their life? How am I going to solve that. Because that’s a risk I can’t take. I can’t be responsible of damaging innocent people. God knows I’ve done anything bad in my life but not yet this. And I don’t want to.

And you’ll tell that nobody was born ready or knowing how to parent and yeah I’ll buy that. But this is a full time, bullshit! It’s a lifetime commitment and I want at least to feel like I’m ready for it. I don’t need much, I just want to feel, inside me, that I’m ready to handle a life that has been given in my care. I want to feel that I can guard that life for the life of me.

It’s weird how a childhood dream will become your worst nightmare. I wish you could see me when I was 18. I would tell you loud and clear that by the time I was 26 I would be married and have kids and that will be the first thing I’d talk about. And you know what else I would state loud and clear? I would say without any doubt that you have to have children while you’re young because you’ll be more willing to play with them, to level with them, to understand them. Back in the days being 30 meant being already old. And I’ll be damned if I feel that now.

I always felt that young parents, like my mom, can understand better their children, especially when they are teenagers. But then, my family is not an example for almost anything.

And this was long time back. And now, to be honest, I don’t want to get married just because I have to and time it’s passing and I don’t want to have children just to care for me when I’m old.

I still hope..

Yeah… I do. And somehow I feel it’s not too late and yet I get this feeling that the timer was set and the clock started ticking. And it’s not safe anymore. I pray I won’t rush, I pray I won’t make any mistakes because if there’s one thing I never accepted in my whole existence… divorce. I think I can accept murder before divorce. Because I believe in people being above themselves and sort shit out. Then again, I would always advise somebody to get a divorce if things get messy but I will never accept it for me. Because then I would be a failure to my family like my mom was and I was always taught that I should never repeat the same mistakes.

And you know the irony of it? The best thing my mom ever did was to get a divorce from that monster. And if there’s one thing that I blame my mom for, is that she never told anybody the horrors that she’s been through. I wish I would’ve known earlier.

But I don’t want it for myself, because I always thought that people who love each other can sort their issues. And I always say don’t put kids through your grown ups ugly matters and also don’t stay together for your children and in the same time let them see two people acting like strangers or even worse two people who just fight and hurt each other. This is not what children should witness.

In the same time don’t force your children to take sides or judge. It’s not on them to take any side or any decisions.

And now, as I discovered the enormous selfish treasure, I can’t stop thinking of two warm hands on my face and a cheeky face next to mine saying “mommy”. Maybe that’s the answer of getting your unconditional love but it’s never fair to deprive children of what they need. And that is, first of all, a family. So if I can’t assure that to them then I hope I’ll end up alone and without any blood on my hands. And if I do get blessed with the greatest love of all I hope I earn it.

We underestimate the gift of children and the love they bring. Well, I hope we don’t. I hope we keep it sacred in our lives and never let it go to waste.

It’s all peace and night writing shenanigans. Peace!

 

The urge of finding out

God sometimes I’m so awkward. I just say the most weird things when it’s really not the case. God! And the problem is I really don’t mean them. I don’t meant to make them sound as they do. They just come out of my mouth. Is anybody else having the same problem?

Really, it’s frustrating. I’m not a person who loves double meaning and stuff. I like things straight. And they always come out twisted. Christ! I’m the master of disaster!

I really don’t mean it, and here I am being all awkward. With the wrong people. I want to give myself an award for being such a weirdo. I’m just a real calamity.

I should shut up. I don’t even know why I start some conversations. I should just be quiet. But it’s just that part of me that wants to see where I stand. I guess I get my answers sometimes. It’s not always what I want or when I want. I should get used to this. I can’t always get what I want.

Most of the times I do. That’s where the confusion is. I always get what I want and it becomes a habit. No Gaby, things are not always the way you picture them. And sometimes you’re just bored. This is what kills me. Boredom. But it’s natural. It happens to everyone. Is not always thrilling and adventurous as we picture it to be. Sometimes we just have to be happy with what we have.

But I always want what I can’t have. Speak about the drama. I am such a spoiled brat. I am used to have all these exciting things happening and I forget that sometimes are not even right. Or moral… Call it as you want. I just love the unusual. I just love the fear and the adventure. It has to give me that adrenaline dose that I love so much. It has to be forbidden. That’s why I’m not settled, because I love the unknown too much. Or the most familiar. It will take a good shrink to decipher all this.

And it’s fun you know. But it’s such a contradiction because I never know where I stand. Do I want to know where I stand. I’m bored. I want some fun. It’s been a while since I felt the thrill of it. I’m such a stubborn person. So easily offended when I don’t get what I want. What do I want though?

I’m not easy to please because I don’t want to. I have layers and layers that I shed at all times. And I love it like this. You’ll never know what pleases me now and what pleases me after a moment. But there’s one thing I know. I want it only my way. And my way is not boring at all. You should just let me have it. Give me that space that makes me comfortable. And then magic will happen. If you shut me down I’ll never react. I just need to feel secure. And then there’s magic.

And to be clear my intentions are never bad. You can rest assured that I don’t want, I never wanted and I will never want to cause harm. I’m just perverted and my aims are not to destroy. I aim to please. It’s all carnal. It’s all about the sense. All the senses. But I know there have to be limits because what I can unleash is not easy to handle.

And people are always afraid. Especially when they act like they don’t.

And in the same time I love stability. Now you tell me how everything I just said before can match this statement. Where’s the middle way here?

I have no clue. It’s like I want to have that Bonnie and Clyde kind of thing but… legal. Too much Freud inside my head. How can I ever find peace? Because in 31 years I never found it. I’m a vampire searching for the elixir that gives the power of walking in daylight. I’m searching for a myth.

But I guess I’ll make do with the first part until I find the latter. I’m just fine with trying. I just wish I wasn’t misunderstood. Damn I wish I could be clearer and things will just fall into place. But then that’s the beauty of it… not getting what you want… when you want.

This being told, I guess I’m just going to be my awkward self until that day comes and somebody will see it as a treasure. Because I am one.

It’s all love and late night writing shenanigans. Peace!

Waiting for my memoir

EXPERIMENT! I just recorded this post and you can listen it here (so sorry for my voice):

 

If it’s not your thing, read it below.

Ok, I’m there. I’m bored to death. I’m going out of my mind, inside of my mind. I’m suffocating inside myself. I don’t know what could possibly keep me satisfied. I don’t know what will please me more. When I have something, I want something else, when I have what I think I want, I don’t want it anymore. And what I want the most, I always lose. Maybe I shouldn’t want it in the first place. But why? Anyway, to sum it up I’m a happy person but I’m terribly bored and this boredom makes me unhappy, but not unhappy in the sad way. Does it make any sense?!

Happiness is not, in my opinion, the lack of sadness. It’s that state of mind that everything is fine, it’s going to be fine and there are great things coming your way and you manage to keep your head up. Happiness doesn’t really take much. It can be anything. Sadness requires a specific reason. At least this is how I see it. Happiness lays in the simplest and most insignificant things sometimes. This doesn’t mean we don’t have other needs that require more complexity. And some needs should require a different level of satisfaction. And then, there’s your problem. It’s all about your unique requirements, about what can match the level of your expectation and imagination. If that makes any sense… again.

Back to being bored. I am afraid when I feel like this because changes are coming. And who the hell isn’t afraid of change. And I know it’s the cure for boredom but I’m not always ready for change. Even though whenever happened, I raised up to it in no time. I’m always ready. Then I behave as it was always my natural habitat. The power of adapting to anything it’s unbelievable sometimes. But I don’t like changes and even when I feel bored I stop myself from seeking entertainment. I tamed myself a lot in time.

What I’m saying is that I like stability. I love safety and everything straightforward. But I have moments when chaos is my only nature. I just unleash all that has been tamed and I just let the beast out.

See, I wasn’t made for routine. I wasn’t made to be leashed and caged. I should be dancing, I should be flying, I should be an entertainer, I should be a totally different thing from what I’ve always been.

I’ve always survived from a day to another. I always left my dreams aside to reach that safety level I was talking about earlier. I said to myself that the things I love the most are not serious enough for the future. Because my wings have always been closed. I’ve never opened them as much as I should, so I never flew. I was just half there. When I was young my thoughts were too old. My worries were those of an adult. I always struggled with my thoughts. Way too early.

I wish somebody had taken these thoughts away from me at that time. Just somebody to say “you’re just a kid, these thoughts don’t belong to you, these problems are not yours to solve and most of all, you’re not too blame”. I don’t want return to childhood traumas but, man, how they ruin you when you grow up.

Not the real situation, but the impact it had on your mind and what kind of reactions it triggered in your mind. Because you grow up wrecked, fearful, with no self-esteem. And then you spend a long time re-building or building from scratch a new persona, without all the damages, but what we don’t know, is that they are our foundation.

It can work though. You can keep it going. I know some people will say “who? you? no way” but I can tell you “yeah, me”. I seem a cocky motherf#cker but it’s a long way to explain what I am. I am happy I managed to leave that impression though. Not that I’ve been a mole before but inside my head I was always way lower than others. I’m happy with any progress though.

And I fought, I kept on going. Even when I said I can’t, I just kept on going. And I said so many times I can’t. I said so many times I don’t want to. I guess I never really meant it. I guess I’m waiting to see myself succeeding like my own fan. I just want to be happy for myself one day.

Don’t get me wrong, I had my moments, my precious moments and I know very well who I am and what I did. It will be stupid of me to say I don’t. I shined and I conquered a lot of situations. I had my glory. And I had tons of luck. Tons.

I just realised that my priorities have changed and I think of myself more than ever. It’s like I want to preserve the last sparkle of that childish enthusiasm. I want to preserve that drive that makes me dream and hope that not everything is ruined and it’s never too late to try to have what I always wanted.

God help me, I say. Because who knows what I’ll start. And by the way, is there anybody willing to write my memoir? Seriously, you’ll be entertained. Everybody will. I just hope I’ll be able to tell my story without thinking how others will judge me. I wish I’ll be able to talk about the darkest moments without shame. After all it has to be authentic.

As usual it’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!

Broken mirrors

It’s not the same for everybody. Whatever might trigger something inside you does not necessarily trigger something inside them.

You see, when you pressed your cheek so naturally against mine, because the place was loud and we had to talk close to each other, that meant for me. Maybe for you it was something you do when you’re attracted to somebody but for me it was such an intimate and infinite emotion. Your lips are moving and I feel the motion of your face against my cheek. And when you finish talking you squeeze my arm a bit. Sometimes, when I ask you something you just pull me closer with a steady hand. And my body flows toward you.

At some point my face is looking straight when you talk to me and we’re not cheek to cheek anymore, your face is on my face, so close to my lips, not even talking next to my ear anymore… and I would have it like that forever. You talking against my face. You and your cheek against mine, that hand around my waist. And when we’re not next to each other our eyes meet swiftly and there’s THAT look. That damn look and damn you for understanding it too.

And sometimes it’s like you’re analyzing me. Or undressing me. I guess the latter… I hope the latter. And when our lips first touched it was fire. We couldn’t even keep them together, we couldn’t even lock the kiss but we keep on trying and you just wreck my brain functions. On and on and on. I don’t even know how I’m kissing you but it’s so natural, so effortlessly. I can barely see your face, but I want to see it, so we take brief moments just to look at each other and understand what’s happenning. And it’s happening. I guess my face reads exactly what yours does.

We have to stop. We have to go back. It’s hard to go back and pretend I didn’t kiss the soul out of you. You look, I look. It’s not swift anymore, it’s intentional. And I read on your soft lips “you are in trouble” and a devilish spark plays in your eyes. Oh mister, trouble it is!

I just feel like grabbing your face and bring it close to mine and just stare at you for a moment before I kiss you. Movies in my head. Movies in yours. Pretty sure the same plot. Maybe different scene order.

And I try to find topics so I can bring your face next to mine. And you keep on answering with your face smashed in mine.

“I’ll take good care of you”… and just like that I have no knees, I have no connection to the world outside. Just like that, I am that piece of exaggerated romantic shit that I’ve always been and you got me with silly words like a pigeon trap. There’s nothing I love more than alluring gestures, intuitive hand touching, body language and word innuendos, because my brain is so alert when it comes to these things. It’s awaken by them even though it’s slowly sinking in imbecility.

God, somebody save me. God, have mercy on my soul. My mind has sinned. Still does.

And then you obviously think, because of the great talent we have of ruining things, “does he act like this with everybody”, “it’s like a game he knows too well”, “he doesn’t mean any of it”, etc. And then I’m down. The weight of these words crush me. They just cancel every single thing I said before and now there’s no way back… Can’t ignore them anymore. Stupid thoughts. Stupid, stupid thoughts.

You’re dancing behind me and I’m slowly grinding against your body. It’s intense and it helps me that I can’t see your face…because I can picture it. And I know why you’re moving away. I turn and I see your face. I was right. You’re biting your lip. Unconsciously I’m biting mine.

And then again you’re thinking “what is it different for him now” “how do I make it different”. I have to be the best, because I always do, because it’s always like this. This is what it is. And I am. I don’t always have the chance to…

And there was no chance with you. Who knows when I’ll see you again. There are galaxies between us and this mind of my own that will ruin all of this. That will question to death the authenticity of all these moments. Especially that you’ll not be around to prove me wrong. And then… then, what’s the point?

I wonder what did YOU feel? I wonder if you acknowledge my face moving when we were talking cheek to cheek. I wonder if you felt that fire, the electricity of our fingers barely touching.

Why did you do it then? Is it a routine?

How can I ever be happy like this. How can I stop ruining moments with thoughts. I ask myself.. and the only answer lays in that vanity we have, the one that whispers “he worships you” and makes you feel so powerful. And it stays. The thoughts stay and the vanity stays too. You’ll have that set of questions running on and on in your mind and then vanity will come and say “enough! I felt it, it happened, no need to doubt it!”

And you feel better about it, and about yourself. Yeah, it’s true, it happened. There it is, the light at the end of your f##king tunnel. And for a while you are back on track. It’s so twisted and so hard to describe this feeling, this insecurity that keeps on digging, like a cavity, into your self-esteem, into your mind, into your heart. Fewer thoughts you produce, the happier you are. Are these thoughts a result of your traumas? Let’s not f##king go there because I will never finish this. I have a few people to thank for that for eternity, I believe.

Anyway you’re such a dear memory to me. You will be that kind of memory that makes my heart warm at times. What kind of memory will it be for you?

It’s all love and evening writing shenanigans. Peace!