Everything started on one of those non-winter winters that are so common here in LA. It felt like and earthquake waiting to happen, just because of the treacherous calm. I hate it when it's too quiet, it always makes me nervous and I start preparing for a storm. I don't know how I saw the heavy clouds gathering, but a storm is exactly what happened and incidentally it brought me closer to him.
***
When I was younger I had a friend who was almost like a sister to me. She was the sweetest person I've ever met and someone who deserved all the best and only got the worst. I tried so hard for so long to protect her and lift her up when she was falling, but it was never enough. One day I got a call from her aunt who said she had passed away. We hadn't spoken for several weeks and the only feeling that ran through my body at that moment was panic.
Everyone around me tried to get me to talk to them, but I didn't want their sympathy. I didn't need their outsider opinions or tired platitudes about God and his mysterious ways, the only one I wanted to talk to was her. I wanted so badly to tell her how much I loved her and cared for her, but it was already too late. I never even got the chance. It still makes me angry that something can be that definitive - no matter what you want to do or say to someone you can't if you do it a split second too late when they can no longer hear you.
The harder I looked for a way out the lonelier I felt, and the more I realized there was nothing I could do for myself or her. So I hid in his arms and he comforted me to the best of his abilities. He couldn't undo the past, but he kept his distance and allowed me to mourn her any way I wanted.
Her name was Johanna, and this is my way of remembering her.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
On love - Part I
He wants me to love him selflessly, but I already know where that road ends. I've been there before with someone else and I never want to walk down it ever again, the way I did through that one year of three seasons. Seen from a distance it feels like another life, but what happened back then, the first and only time I've been in love, still has repercussions for how I function.
He was a year older than me and wore his heart like a valuable secret. It's still amazes me how we held out as long as we did, but I guess the self-inflicted pain is the best way for us to know we're still alive. The wounds he gave me may not have left any scars, visible or hidden, but they made me numb and almost unable to hurt. You would maybe think that's a good thing, but in reality it means you'll do close to anything just to feel something, including self-destruction.
Miri introduced us. She knew him from before and said we were meant for each other. It turned out to be true for one of us.
***
He was a year older than me and wore his heart like a valuable secret. It's still amazes me how we held out as long as we did, but I guess the self-inflicted pain is the best way for us to know we're still alive. The wounds he gave me may not have left any scars, visible or hidden, but they made me numb and almost unable to hurt. You would maybe think that's a good thing, but in reality it means you'll do close to anything just to feel something, including self-destruction.
Miri introduced us. She knew him from before and said we were meant for each other. It turned out to be true for one of us.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The letter
There are of course reasons, good or bad, why I only really started thinking about the boy with the soft hair after he surprised me by hitting on one of my friends. I'll try to explain why, but first I need to tell you all a little about what he wrote. His letter was a call for reconciliation, a long-winded way of saying sorry with other words. It was filled with subtle excuses and attempts to give me the blame for what he did. He wrote I wanted to hurt you for hurting me, and as harsh as that sounds, I understand him. I know a little something about wanting to hurt people, just to see if they are alive and to see if you can make them feel something, anything. I guess that's what he was trying to do to me, and he was certainly entitled. The way I treated him reminded me of someone I used to know, someone who is now just a fading but ineradicable memory.
Because I have been in love, once.
Because I have been in love, once.
Please don't call me self defending
After a sleepless night, going through what my mother said on the phone over and over again, I was exhausted when the morning came. Her exact words were I know that you blame me for your father, but it wasn't like you think.
And then, being the ludicrously self-centered person that she is, she said she had to go and promised to call me back in a few days. I tried all night to figure out what she could possibly mean by that, but I eventually had to realize it's no use. I'll just have to wait for that next redeeming phone call to ease all the built-up tension in my body and mind. I hope it does.
And as if that wasn't enough for one day, I later received a hand-written letter from the boy with the soft hair, but that's a story for tomorrow. This one ends with me trying to find all those hours of sleep I've lost.
And then, being the ludicrously self-centered person that she is, she said she had to go and promised to call me back in a few days. I tried all night to figure out what she could possibly mean by that, but I eventually had to realize it's no use. I'll just have to wait for that next redeeming phone call to ease all the built-up tension in my body and mind. I hope it does.
And as if that wasn't enough for one day, I later received a hand-written letter from the boy with the soft hair, but that's a story for tomorrow. This one ends with me trying to find all those hours of sleep I've lost.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Everytime you seem to come around
I hate gravity. It takes so much energy and effort to build something up, but when it falls it falls fast on its own and there's nothing you can do but start all over again.
Lately I've been picking up the pieces of my broken body and mind, and in the middle of everything mother called, from New York. I guess I should be happy to know she's alive, but that's not the only thing I needed right now. I needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to carry the weight of my burdens for a little while, and instead I cried alone, away from the telephone, as I heard her talking into thin air.
Avy darling, are you there?
I wanted to say yes, I wanted to tell her I love her and miss her, and I wanted to tell her about what's happened so she could comfort me. Knowing that would never be, I didn't, and even if I wanted to I was sinking, drowning in the sound of my own tears. I can't cry in silence, I never could, and when I held my breath long enough to listen, her words stung my heart.
Lately I've been picking up the pieces of my broken body and mind, and in the middle of everything mother called, from New York. I guess I should be happy to know she's alive, but that's not the only thing I needed right now. I needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to carry the weight of my burdens for a little while, and instead I cried alone, away from the telephone, as I heard her talking into thin air.
Avy darling, are you there?
I wanted to say yes, I wanted to tell her I love her and miss her, and I wanted to tell her about what's happened so she could comfort me. Knowing that would never be, I didn't, and even if I wanted to I was sinking, drowning in the sound of my own tears. I can't cry in silence, I never could, and when I held my breath long enough to listen, her words stung my heart.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Oh, why you look so sad?
Friday, this damned city of angels is burdened by clouds, I by perplexity. All afternoon I've been hiding from the outside world in the greyish Etro cashmere sweater I bought him for his birthday in January. This morning, without notice like a summer storm, he came by to return it with the poisonous words well, I guess that's it. I looked at him awkwardly in silence and then watched him walk away, convulsively holding on to the soft sweater.
He must have worn it. It smells like him. Smells like defeat.
He must have worn it. It smells like him. Smells like defeat.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Purgatorium for a heart
It turned out to be true: the girl named Sarah is precisely the Sarah I thought it was. She says she didn't know, but deep down I feel as if I don't want to believe her. It's so strange, I remember going to see him, coming to the train station looking for him but thinking of someone else. No one specific, just the image of what I always wanted him to be. When I saw him in the middle of the crowd coming towards me I was always surprised: did he really look like that? Even more fragile than I remembered.
But know, after finding out how utterly false he's been, I can't stop thinking about him. The one I should be mad at is the one I want to forgive, and the one who might have done nothing wrong in the end turns out to be the one I blame.
But know, after finding out how utterly false he's been, I can't stop thinking about him. The one I should be mad at is the one I want to forgive, and the one who might have done nothing wrong in the end turns out to be the one I blame.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Someone like you
About that glass figurine. It seems that after you've managed to fix it, if it breaks again, the damage will be even greater. The same is true for my mind, it's now spread out in little pieces over so many more theories and thoughts than it was just yesterday.
He had invited me to his place for a romantic Valentine's dinner with candles and roses and everything else I hate. When he went out for a quick smoke he got a text message, from someone named Sarah. I obviously had to read it and the rest of their conversation - a nice mix of English, not-too-good English and Spanish. It was all but romantic.
And as if that conversation and its implications were not enough for my racing heart, it now seems that the girl named Sarah is someone I know.
He had invited me to his place for a romantic Valentine's dinner with candles and roses and everything else I hate. When he went out for a quick smoke he got a text message, from someone named Sarah. I obviously had to read it and the rest of their conversation - a nice mix of English, not-too-good English and Spanish. It was all but romantic.
And as if that conversation and its implications were not enough for my racing heart, it now seems that the girl named Sarah is someone I know.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Walk upon the edge of no escape
Confusion in her eyes says it all
she's lost control
Confusion is like breaking your favorite glass figurine. No matter how it happened you still have to gather all the pieces, like those of your shattered mind, and try to glue them back together. With a little luck, you won't lose too much in the end, only the feeling of completeness.
Valentine's day ended with just that kind of confusion, and I still don't know what I'll stand to lose from it. I thought I knew exactly where I had him, that I could read him like an open book and would never be surprised by anything he would be capable of doing. Then this happens, and suddenly I lost my balance. The worst thing is that I never saw it coming, and now I feel as if I'm no longer in control.
How I hate that feeling.
she's lost control
Confusion is like breaking your favorite glass figurine. No matter how it happened you still have to gather all the pieces, like those of your shattered mind, and try to glue them back together. With a little luck, you won't lose too much in the end, only the feeling of completeness.
Valentine's day ended with just that kind of confusion, and I still don't know what I'll stand to lose from it. I thought I knew exactly where I had him, that I could read him like an open book and would never be surprised by anything he would be capable of doing. Then this happens, and suddenly I lost my balance. The worst thing is that I never saw it coming, and now I feel as if I'm no longer in control.
How I hate that feeling.
Monday, February 8, 2010
I will let you down, I will make you hurt
What after all made me happier than anything else this weekend was seeing the most fragile person I know gather the strength I always knew she had in her. Signe, after being yelled at by her stalker boyfriend, got up on a couch, stood there with her sweet little chin up and calmly said "Now, Benjamin, I'm looking down on you". It was beautiful.
(In the process she broke a gracefully slender Lalique crystal vase my mom bought in Paris, but not to worry, I googled it. It only costs some $1500)
Meanwhile, my own date tip-toes around me, us and my little moment with Miri (he hasn't yet mentioned it). He's so cautious, deadly afraid of me somehow falling from the sky high ivory pedestal he's put me on.
It frustrates me and makes me dream of falling, because unlike crystal vases, I don't break. I just feel more alive.
(In the process she broke a gracefully slender Lalique crystal vase my mom bought in Paris, but not to worry, I googled it. It only costs some $1500)
Meanwhile, my own date tip-toes around me, us and my little moment with Miri (he hasn't yet mentioned it). He's so cautious, deadly afraid of me somehow falling from the sky high ivory pedestal he's put me on.
It frustrates me and makes me dream of falling, because unlike crystal vases, I don't break. I just feel more alive.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Soyuz nerushimy
It's morning again, the sun has been up for an hour or so and all my darling guests have finally left (one of them in an ambulance, but she's fine). I'm on my own but not alone. Last night made me realize and appreciate the value of true friendship, so thank you all so much ♥
I wanted to throw a theme party, nothing too fancy, and as I sat on mom's bed an old black and white picture on her night stand caught my eye. It's of my Russian grandfather standing in the middle of the Red Square in Moscow wearing a huge fur hat, a heavy snowstorm drowning out most of the background. As I tried to find even a hint of a smile on his rugged face I got the idea: Stalingrad.
Later in the evening I told Miri you know, Stalingrad is where the Third Reich first succumbed to the Red Army and she said I wont give up without a fight.
As my moisturized lips gently touched hers I could feel and hear her gasping for air. Behind me the envious glances from the boy with the soft hair. I wish he wasn't so weak.
I wanted to throw a theme party, nothing too fancy, and as I sat on mom's bed an old black and white picture on her night stand caught my eye. It's of my Russian grandfather standing in the middle of the Red Square in Moscow wearing a huge fur hat, a heavy snowstorm drowning out most of the background. As I tried to find even a hint of a smile on his rugged face I got the idea: Stalingrad.
Later in the evening I told Miri you know, Stalingrad is where the Third Reich first succumbed to the Red Army and she said I wont give up without a fight.
As my moisturized lips gently touched hers I could feel and hear her gasping for air. Behind me the envious glances from the boy with the soft hair. I wish he wasn't so weak.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
She walks in beauty like the night
At 3 a.m. this morning I got tired of the heavy blanket of inadequacy and wrapped myself in mom's pearl white Prada silk dresses. I dreamt about her coming back and woke up feeling somewhat happier as the early light danced across my naked skin. I told myself what I wanted to tell her, what I really meant to say when those ill-fated words slipped off my tongue: as everything comes to an end, isn't that the one perfect time for remorse and repentance?
And tonight I need you in the thundering storms my heroines. Let it pour down on me.
Let it snow.
And tonight I need you in the thundering storms my heroines. Let it pour down on me.
Let it snow.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Must be the clouds in my eyes
She knows the human heart
and how to read the stars
Now everything's about to fall apart
Yesterday: knowing what had to be done and yet not being able to actually do it.
After waking up this morning I froze halfway down the stairs as I was going to have breakfast, seeing mother standing in the doorway with her bags packed. She wasn't crying, but every single inch of her body screamed out sorrow and reluctance. She said Avy dearest, I don't want to be an obstacle in your course of life.
If I had been able to speak I would have said something to stop her from going, knowing that's what she desperately wanted, but I couldn't. I just stood there like a tragic statue, letting her wait for an answer, seeing her fragile heart break when it never came, and then watching her leave.
And now: frantically biting my nails, watching CNN, waiting for that decisive headline.
Breaking News - Plane crash at LAX leaves selfish daughter orphaned.
and how to read the stars
Now everything's about to fall apart
Yesterday: knowing what had to be done and yet not being able to actually do it.
After waking up this morning I froze halfway down the stairs as I was going to have breakfast, seeing mother standing in the doorway with her bags packed. She wasn't crying, but every single inch of her body screamed out sorrow and reluctance. She said Avy dearest, I don't want to be an obstacle in your course of life.
If I had been able to speak I would have said something to stop her from going, knowing that's what she desperately wanted, but I couldn't. I just stood there like a tragic statue, letting her wait for an answer, seeing her fragile heart break when it never came, and then watching her leave.
And now: frantically biting my nails, watching CNN, waiting for that decisive headline.
Breaking News - Plane crash at LAX leaves selfish daughter orphaned.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
There are many things that I would like to say to you
They tell me that I can be an agonizingly cold person, but all I've ever really been is honest. It's not my fault, but I've learned that sometimes the truth can be much more painful than even the most vicious lie. And sometimes it's better to just keep your mouth shut.
This morning I went to the café where Signe works to have breakfast. I like it there, it's small and inviting enough so you can feel relaxed and get away from the city noise for a while. Of course, mother, being the drama queen that she is, thought I wanted to get away from her. Normally I don't let it get to me, but this time my subconsciousness was too fast. Standing in the doorway as I got back she asked why do you hate me? and I said I blame you for my father.
Those words have been on my mind for so long, but I never thought they would actually slip off my tongue. The following few seconds of silence felt like years of psychological terror. Mother just stood there trembling, silent tears running down from behind her Givenchy sunglasses.
This morning I went to the café where Signe works to have breakfast. I like it there, it's small and inviting enough so you can feel relaxed and get away from the city noise for a while. Of course, mother, being the drama queen that she is, thought I wanted to get away from her. Normally I don't let it get to me, but this time my subconsciousness was too fast. Standing in the doorway as I got back she asked why do you hate me? and I said I blame you for my father.
Those words have been on my mind for so long, but I never thought they would actually slip off my tongue. The following few seconds of silence felt like years of psychological terror. Mother just stood there trembling, silent tears running down from behind her Givenchy sunglasses.
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