On how things were and are

It used to be the three of us.

Now, it's the two of them and me.

Thoughts that have been wandering on my mind

I'm so looking forward to falling in love…!

… yet I'm so scared of actually falling in love.

What if I never find someone? What if I do, but he's just half a soulmate? What if he loves horror movies, drinking and partying really hard? What if I'm the only one making an effort? What if he makes me feel vulnerable by knowing so much about me? What if I get jealous over the silliest things? What if he doesn't? What if he breaks my heart?

What if my heart gets broken over never being used?

On acceptance

She likes acting and the theater. He likes sports and playing video-games.

I'm different.

I like reading and writing, yes, they could be considered “normal hobbies”. The problem is, I also like anime and video-games, but japanese stuff and cosplaying are weird things in my environment. Things that would make them ashamed of me.

I've also thought about tattoos and dying my hair a lot. Throughout the years I have eventually changed my mind about getting most of them, but there's one that won't go away. A tiny bird behind my left ear. And then some orange Hayley Williams-ish hair on top of everything. It would feel wild, daring, funny, liberating, so unlike me… I truly believe it would be a really good way for me to be brave.

I've always felt like I'm the one pushing the boundaries. I keep an open mind to whatever may come and then try to get them all to enjoy it or know it a bit better at least. Lately, it's been really frustrating for me because of this constant conflict between my mindset and their prejudices. Good thing though, they are way more open-minded than most people. Still…

But it's okay, because at least a part of me is home.

Seeing my heart in your eyes
For the last time, before you say goodbye.

Eshajōri 会者定離 (people meet, always part)

Valar morghulis. All men must die.

I just came across the title of this post on tumblr. That word was meant to express the idea of impermanence of all things. Everything ends because change is the only thing that remains (thanks for that one, Heraclitus), and as change is the only thing that remains, everything must come to an end. Eshajōri brings a new perspective to human relationships: all the unbreakable friendships, the burning hate and even the strongest love will, indeed, cease to exist someday due to life itself. The people who share those relationships will eventually die, and those feelings will die along with them.

I really don't know how to feel about that. Should I make huge efforts on relationships that will finish, doesn't matter what I do? In fact, should I even bother at all? I am gonna die sooner or later, so why should I try to live anyway? But I also do not know what happens after you die, just as I don't know what would happen if I lived… though the first one I'll know due to life itself. The second one is a chance that's been given to me. The only way I'll get to know what happens next is… well, by living.

In the end, not life nor death make sense. Let's just not waste the first one while we have the second one for granted.

Sorry I lied, hope you understand

I lied some days ago. Six, actually. I told a lie which wasn't even that important, it was no big deal, but I've been feeling this weight on my chest ever since and maybe writing it down would release some of the pressure, so…

I lied because I wanted to hide my feelings. With social media these days, you usually tend to feel more like a number. You are just another follower. Only your friends tend to read what you say to them. I was used to being a number, really, but then he appeared. He read everything. He wanted all of us to remain people, individuals he could recognize. I was someone… and he started growing. Followers here, followers there, everybody wanted a piece of his attention and there was just not enough of him for all of us. That's how I became a number… or so I thought.

I gradually stopped trying to get my bad jokes to get to him; there were times when I'd force myself to think if he'd be interested in what I was thinking to tell him, then I would get frustrated and not even try. It hurt knowing that you cared about someone who probably didn't care as much about you, that's what my heart felt but my head didn't dare to translate.

One day I simply decided to get some time for myself: I'd get rid of him in my social media, so that I'd just get rid of the pressure as well. It went well. It actually didn't, I felt a bit better but I missed him. I also knew the way I was acting was a bit childish: I never wanted his attention, but I accidentally got it and when it seemed I couldn't get it anymore I kind of got upset. And lonely? Sort of. Hard to explain.

Then this other day, I just said: “Okay, I might be just a number because a lot of people is interested in him now, but who cares? I'm gonna be a great number. And if he notices me and I get him to smile with my nonsense, then it's okay!”. I got a new attitude and tried to make those things affect me less, and I got him into my social media again.

And, finally, the magic happened.

I had some silly joke for what he shared with his followers, and a few minutes later… he welcomed me back. He noticed I had left, and he was also glad I was back –can't quite understand why, I mean… my jokes are TERRIBLE. But it made me feel valuable, even if he didn't have enough time for all of us, he had room for each individual in a special place. And now I regret lying and telling him it had been just a mistake. It was, of course, but not as I made it look like. And although the explanation for that mistake is longer than 140 characters, I wish I had told him the truth. I also wish he could understand it, because I feel like I haven't been clear enough throughtout this Bible I just wrote.

I don't know.

Seis segundos

“Ella nunca me miraba a los ojos. Siempre tenía otros lugares a los que mirar en las ocasiones en las que los míos buscaban los suyos. Casi resultaba frustrante.

Ella nunca me miraba a los ojos… hasta hoy.

Su encantadora risa en el parque me despistó de sus dedos entrelazándose con los míos; tras echar un vistazo a nuestras manos unidas, mi mirada no pudo evitar subir hasta toparse con un par de curiosos ojos verdes. Me quedé sin aliento.

Fueron los seis segundos más aterradores que he vivido nunca. Caía al vacío, caía mientras la miraba y me miraba, caía y de repente sentí los pies en la tierra. No había vacío, comprendí, había algo. Ella.

Fueron los seis segundos más reconfortantes de mi vida. Al entender que se me había permitido contemplar su alma, me perdí en ella. Buceé, exploré y nos encontré en aquella familiaridad que eran sus ojos. Supe que se sentía tan vulnerable como yo, y por eso me sentí afortunado de haber recibido esa oportunidad de contemplarla.

Fueron los seis segundos más eufóricos del mundo. Pensar que ella estaba investigándome tanto como yo a ella y que, tras tanto tiempo, ninguno hubiera rechazado la mirada del otro, despegó mis pies del suelo y me hizo sentir que volaba. Mi pecho se infló de aire y de calidez, y sentí que en ese momento sería capaz de hacer cualquier cosa. Incluso de besarla.

Fueron los seis mejores segundos de mi vida… hasta que llegaron los siguientes seis segundos. Y los siguientes. Y los siguientes.”