submission #9

Dear you,

You think, feel and say such things yet it seems you don’t actually think about their meaning or how they will affect those you say them to. 

You drown in feelings and forget about other feelings and the other people who might be feeling them. 

What you said to me, and the way you said it, not only doesn’t make sense at times, but it clearly demonstrates the way you feel about me and what you think of me as a friend and as a person. It was a clear message about how all the time, energy and feelings I invested in you -in our friendship- in the end meant close to nothing to you, because none of it was taken into account in your analysis of the situation.

At first, what you said hurt my feelings. Now, it just makes me angry, because I am an incredible friend. But, like you said, I have a problem, which is caring too much. You pushed me to my limit, and instead of defying and fighting against that limit, I acknowledged it and respected it. I asked you to do so as well. However, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that there were real emotional limits to respect. You still can’t wrap your head around the fact that I was about to become collateral damage of your issues. In the end, it is a problem and it’s solely mine. So I say again: I don’t know how to be the friend you want me to be, so please respect the fact that I’m going to stop trying. Respect that I stopped risking hurting myself emotionally for you. Because it is my way of addressing my problem. 

So, it makes me angry, these implied accusations of me not only being a crappy friend, but a crappy person in general. Frankly, I will not stand for it, not until you understand how you insulted me, and apologize for it. 

Unfortunately, we are alike in that we are proud and stubborn, so this is doomed to be a waiting game. Waiting to see who will cave first, who will swallow bitter pride and approach the other. 

Waiting for the other to feel enough remorse for that to be worth it. 

And I highly doubt it will be me. Because despite the fact that you made me angry, anger can be swallowed and forgotten much more easily than confusion and resentment, which seems to adequately describe how you feel and what you think, 

of me, 

of our freidnship, 

and of the whole situation in general.  

Until then, 

B

Submission #8

C,

I miss you so much. 

I miss who you were when you were here, who you used to be and who you could've been had things gone your way. I miss your presence and your essence. I miss what you did and what you didn't do. 

I simply miss you. 

I just want you to know. I wish there's some way you would know. I hope you feel it, wherever you are, how missed you are. 

Because you're missed so very much. 

Yours always, 

-B

Confesión #7

Tengo los ojos llorosos. 

Parpadeo para evitar que se formen y derramen lagrimas, y termino cerrandolos por segundos a la vez. 

Quiero abrir los ojos y mirar mis alrededores, pero los tengo llorosos y no se si es por el resplandor de la resolana sobre el pavimento, la polución o la leve brisa que no ha dejado de quitarme el poco calor que tengo. Entonces los dejo cerrados y me concentro en el ruido que me rodea. 

Esta empezando el día y la gente tiene los ojos cansados, pero los abren y salen a vivir el día, sea por gusto, por deber o por aburrición. Y yo sigo tratando de abrir bien los ojos, todavia tratando de evitar que lloren. Me irrita tener los ojos irritados y llorosos. Y más aún me irrita no saber porque los tengo llorosos e irritados. Depronto y muy probablemente tiene que ver con el hecho de que insisto en mantenerlos pegados a la pantalla con resplandor de mi celular, con esta resolana, brisa y polución. 

Tengo los ojos llorosos, y si no paro van a llorar. 

Y lo último que quiero ahorita es llorar. 

Submission #6

It has nothing to do with standards.

I don't believe you lack a sense of what people should be and do to qualify as worthy people of your respect and attention. And yet, I wish you'd be more selective, more critical of those who get close to you. More critical of yourself when you decide to respect someone. It's not that you don't think you deserve better, it's simply that you are swayed by emotion, by what things seem to be from the outside. Preconceived ideas, originated by external forces, but fueled by your imagination, are influential in your calculations and decisions. 

I wish they weren't.

I wish you would question every single thing that goes through your head, every single emotion that courses through your veins. Not out of self doubt, but rather out of self respect and a sense of safety. But I know it's not an easy thing to achieve – that distancing from emotion and logic, when you've been told your whole life that you overthink everything too much and that doing so is not only unnatural but also unhealthy. 

But that's the thing: it isn't. 

There is no such thing as thinking of something too much, especially when it's something as important and crucial to life as trusting and loving someone; at least not when it comes to the decision to start trusting and loving someone. I understand that decisions must be made, fears and doubts must be overcome and that overthinking them can be a cause for unnecessary stress; it can be a deterrent of action and necessary risks. But when it comes to primary and fundamental things, upon which life will be based on, overthinking is key. It's necessary that our brains go around and around the subject, again and again and again. Because every time you think about it critically, you will think something differently, and that can lead to uncovering ideas and thoughts that aren't obvious, but that are highly important when it comes to making a decision. This is why time is essential. Time to mull over, to consider all possibilities, to retrace all steps. When it comes to deciding who you are going to love, who you are going to devote yourself to for possibly the rest of your life, overthink, overanalyze and make sure no detail escapes you. 

Because I know you, and you won't give yourself another chance. 

Submission #5

From November, 2014 

I woke up to the realization that the emotional person that I am makes me unstable and vulnerable. Going back to the events of last night I think about how the existence of shame exists as part of the aftermath - shame over my actions and reactions, over who I was at that particular moment in time, all things considered. My feelings evolved however, as time passed and my body was fully embracing the feeling of being a sponge, taking in everything I was feeling, and I realized the dominant emotion was pain. I assumed I was reliving the pain I must've felt in my drunken stupor. This led to understanding how vulnerable I was to my emotions when encountering a trigger to their violent unraveling, how easily I could succumb to making a fool of myself due to the alcohol running through my veins, making everything a fuzzy memory. And yet the only thing that wasn't at all fuzzy was the pain. 


I was hurting. 

I was hurting then, 

and I'm hurting now.

The hangover leads me back to bed after the sickly desired glass of water, but after a full wake up, getting dressed and physically moving on from last night, the hangover hung over my head, making my chest constrict when my mind wandered over to the implications of what happened. It had become a moral hungover, and I felt as if I were trapped in a revolving door. Going around and around, everytime I passed through the opening, I'd get a glimpse – a taste – of what shame, anger and pain felt like if I were to get out. When no text of apology or recognition came, I realized I'd better close the door. 


But revolving doors don't ever really close, and moral hangovers aren't driven away by hydrating liquids, fatty foods or tylenol.

I've learned that everyday, every experience is about learning about oneself. And it's been a long time since I learned that for me closure comes only with confrontation. 


It's not about closing the door, it's about getting out.


I just wish I knew where to get the strength to survive the confrontation of the fact that the emotional person that I am makes me vulnerable, and when paired with fuzzy mindfullness inducing liquids, unstable. 

I don't want to be emotionally unstable, but above all, I just want to stop hurting. Maybe then, when it has stopped, I'll regain my confident footing and the strength to endure the experiences to come.

Maybe.

Confesión #4 - Lo que no me atrevo a decir en voz alta

R, 

No se me da bien hablar las cosas importantes y menos cuando eso me puede poner en una posición vulnerable!! Sin embargo, toda la semana he querido tener esta conversación  contigo y es que hay algo que me viene molestando hace un tiempo. 

La verdad es que he tratado de evadirte porque estoy un poco confundida. Aunque tu me vez solo como una amiga, a veces me pasan cosas contigo. Estoy molesta conmigo misma porque no me gustaría perder tu amistad, eres un chico súper  puro al que solo le puedo agradecer las buenas conversaciones que hemos tenido. Encontrar gente como tu en la universidad es una suerte. No dudo que algún día serás gran filosofo- abogado (no puedo esperar para leer tu tesis de grado, espero que estén incluidas todas las criticas al derecho que me has comentado). Sinceramente, no sé que hacer, lo más fácil para mi sería simplemente dejar de hablarte. Te aseguro que si no te valorara tanto no estaría haciendo esto tan incomodo. Y es que cada vez que parchamos- chateamos siento que estoy haciendo algo fuera de lugar y eso normalmente no pasa cuando le hablas a un amigo! Hasta hace poco creía ser relajada con los temas relacionados con chicos, normalmente no les doy mucha trascendencia. Por lo que no sé que me pasa, me desconozco jajaja (esta reflexión es otra de las cosas que jamás me vi haciendo, pero bueno siento que es lo que necesito en este momento). 

Hace un año y medio termine con una persona que me importaba mucho principalmente porque hubo interferencia de terceros. Y desde ese momento me ha costado mucho construir lazos con otras personas, creo que ya no confío tan fácilmente. Me da mucho miedo que la historia se repita, no estoy tratando de victimizarme las cosas pasan y uno sigue adelante. Además, así no me guste admitirlo yo también fui responsable por lo que paso. Volviendo al tema, no me gusta nada sentirme dependiente y al final de esa relación, más bien después de unos meses, cuando lo volví a ver fue exactamente eso lo que paso. No quiero que piense que me sentí dependiente porque le hice un escándalo o algo así (tranquilo no voy a salir llorando jajajaja).

Estábamos en la misma ciudad el verano pasado y en mi ultima noche allí, él había quedado de pasar a visitarme para despedirse. Sin embargo, me mando un mensaje a ultima hora que decía: "No da que nos veamos, el taxi hasta el departamento me cuesta 10 euros, caminando me tardaría 47 minutos" y la foto de google maps con la distancia a recorrer. Hubiese sido lindo que me avisara al comienzo del día, para no haber estado a su disposición en vano. Me sentí rogona porque era obvio que yo lo quería ver y no fui su prioridad. La verdad nunca le escribí durante el día ni le dije que era importante para mi pasar tiempo con él antes de irme porque no quería darle  gran importancia. Sin embargo, en mi cabeza era evidente que había sido dependiente por el simple hecho de querer verlo (incoherencias mías jajajaj). Lo deje en leído y nunca más nos volvimos a hablar (le escribí para su cumpleaños hace 4 días pero no me respondió nada).

Te cuento esta historia un poco aburrida, porque si hace un año me hubieses dicho que estaría envideada con un niño que tiene una relación me hubiese reído. Reconozco lo mucho que molestan las interferencias, porque tuve que vivirlas (igual estoy tranquila porque sé que solo somos amigo y este no es el caso). Juro que no ha sido mi intensión ser una molestia para ti. Solo puedo decir que me raya estar confundida y quizás he podido trasmitirte eso. Normalmente, le corro a estos problemas porque no aprecio el drama.

Te pido mil disculpas por posibles episodios de bipolaridad o por no ser siempre la persona más entradora (yo sé que soy bastante fría y eso quizás trasmite erróneamente apatía e insensibilidad). Usualmente, soy poco expresiva, poco delicada y aun más contigo, en verdad lo siento. Igual espero que sepas que siempre puedes contar conmigo, que si algo te inquieta podemos hablarlo (aunque no lo creas puedo dar buenos consejos, soy muy buena solucionando problemas ajenos, solo los ajenos jajaja). Soy consciente que a veces puedo llegar a actuar de forma “antipática” (no encuentro  la palabra indicada). Quizás soy así, porque no quiero que te lleves la impresión que no es. No he pretendido sobrepasar ningún tipo de limite. A veces cuando me encuentro contigo puede ser difícil, porque eso impacta el resto de mi día. Por lo que en varias ocasiones cuando te he visto me he hecho la distraída o directamente no te saludo, otra vez te pido disculpas, no he debido de hacer eso. Mejor dicho no he sabido ser una buena parcera y lo lamento. Y espero que sepas que voy a tratar de cambiar eso!

No hay nada más que me gustaría que seguir siendo tu amiga. Te pido por favor que me guardes un espacio en tu larga lista de amistades y que cuando salgan estas ideas locas de mi cabeza aun quieras parchar conmigo! Sin juicios, hasta a los mejores les pasa jajaja! Un pequeño descaché que tiene corrección,  las vacaciones son largas y un par de buenos libros, cigarrillos y mucho café ponen todo en otro plano (aspiro a conseguir más claridad). Será tu decisión si esto afectará lo que yo espero que siga siendo una amistad chévere, no quiero dejar de ser tu parcera (perdón por ser reiterativa pero creo que este es el mensaje que quiero transmitirte).

¿Por qué contarte esto si solo quiero ser tu amiga? Buena pregunta, porque no hacerlo me impediría parchar contigo tranquilamente, no estaría siendo honesta! Además te quiero dar una explicación por mi raro comportamiento, aunque para ti no sea importante. Finalmente, con esto también comenzare a  dejar de lado este pequeño problemita! 

Espero que tengas una vacaciones increíbles! Que la pases bonito :)

Ps:  Mis amigos te dicen Rasta Man bueno yo a veces también (te cuento esto para romper el hilo y que te rías un poco después de lo que te acabo de escribir).

- V

Submission #3

Everytime it's getting harder to do what's right. 

I feel a hollowness in my stomach when I think about doing it. Everytime, I find myself scrounging for ways to get out of doing it, for reasons fit enough to excuse me from going ahead with it. I have the means, I have the time, I have the logic that deems it the right thing to do, but I no longer have the will. 

I know it's right but it doesn't feel right. I feel guilty, but I still don't want to do it. I want to stay put, but above all I want my staying put and not doing it to be ok. But I know that's not gonna happen, and I know it's the right thing because if I don't do it I will regret it. 

Will I? 

If I'm being honest I will regret not doing it, not because it's the right thing to do, but because not doing it will give them the right to reproach me about it. 

I will regret not doing it because I hate it when they reproach me, when they give me hell about it for weeks on end. 

I guess that makes me a pretty bad person. 

Maybe I'm not as good as I think I am. 

And maybe that's ok. 

Then again, it probably isn't. 

Submission #2

I am a girl. 

A girl who believes, fiercely, that I should be treated as an equal when it comes to social, economic and cultural interactions. I believe that the fact that I am a woman shouldn't make anyone uncomfortable when Imean to pay for a meal or when I talk about politics or ethical and moral problems. I believe that the fact that I'm a girl shouldn't create any parameters for my behavior or my development as an adult. I don't believe that the fact that I'm a girl should intimidate anyone in any situation. None at all. 

I am a feminist. I believe that women who decide to dedicate their full time to raising their children are equally as valuable as those who go out to work. Also that those who study are equally as valuable as those who don't. I believe the same thing for men. Above all I believe women and men, when recognized to have the same capacities, be them intellectual, social or emotional, deserve the same treatment. 

I believe in gender equality. I am a girl and a feminist, and it is not because I have been oppressed throughout my life. It is not a defense mechanism or a reaction to specific events in my life. I am not a poor oppressed girl who has turned to feminism, who believes what she does because of a trauma. I had the privilege and the good fortune of growing up within a community where girls and boys are valued equally, where both succeeded and both failed. Where both are simply human. Living side by side. Working together and competing in a healthy and productive way. And above all, believing that there is no need for differentiation between one and the other.

I am a feminist by choice. 

What are you? 

Submission #1

Darling,

There are so many things I have seen and thought this week that I want nothing more than to share with you. I want to tell you but above all I want you to recieve them without weighing them for anything else than what they are: thoughts to be shared. 

I realize this can't be. It can't, and it won't be because of what I said and how you reacted to my saying it the last time we spoke. I put out in the open the type of things that were bound to make you uncomfortable. That were bound to make me uncomfortable around you and in some ways, uncomfortable around myself. 

By putting into words my thoughts I gave them a power they didn't have to have. You now weigh my actions differently, as if seeing everything through a different filter of color, that highlights details that otherwise you wouldn't have noticed. This renders a simple act of sharing thoughts into an uncomfortable and awkward exchange. It renders once flowing and blissfully ignorant conversations unreachable and a thing of the past. Or atleast, that's what it feels like to me. 

And so, the fact that I spent the weekend with a philosophy teacher, that studied at our very own university and got her doctorate in Germany, must be kept to myself. The same goes for the appearance of your nickname in the book I'm currently reading or the amount of stars in the sky at night. I find myself stopping myself from sharing with you all these things that remind me of you, and I realize there are so many things I want to tell you. I'd like to tell you about the hollow feeling in my chest, the gripping twist in my gut and how I caught myself contemplating falling off a high bridge. But I can't. 

There are other minor things, details, that I know I could've once shared with you, that I wish I still could. But for some reason I can't bring myself to regret the last conversation we had. And so, now I just hope that we can one day resume sharing thoughts and things in a mundane matter, that the awkwardness is left behind somehow. 

I know it'll happen eventually. When it does, we'll have so much to talk about, so much to share. At least I will. 

Until next time then. 

Yours sincerely, 

B