To Do

–        Do I love him, grandma? Do I?

A day does not go by without me thinking of him. How perfect we can all get to be seen through loving eyes.

While I daydream, my nonexistent children have his eyebrows, his ears and his hair.

A sweet little word from him is treasured to last for all the days when ordinary words not spoken by poets in love are the only ones that reach my eyes, my ears.

What we’ve had and what we could have, I miss. I selfishly care deeply about his life, may he live long and healthy so I won’t have to miss him even more. I want him to be happy, hoping I can contribute a little with that; and curiously, I’ve discovered that some of that happiness bounces back to me.

I can’t stand him and I want him to change at times. I want him back at those precious minutes that I’ve witnessed. I want him to want time with me, as I do -as I want food-. I want to understand, to bear, not to doubt, to cope… not to want more.

And yet I fail, wanting more.

The feeling of giving up returns along with tears.

Once and again…

–        The thing is, my dear…

Does he love you back?



Weepy. Angry. Happy. Psycho. Sad.

I haven’t been writing for a while, mainly due to new, well received, and appreciated events that have kept me somewhat busy during the week. I’m glad to be again sharing an agglomerate of words with the matter outside my head.

Back to business, it’s important to mention that I’m not fond of gender characterization; I even dislike it, but there’s this female related situation that I’ve had to live with for more than a decade, and there’s no chance for me to deny it. I’ll do another thing I don’t like: generalize… I’ll say we, all twin chromosomed humans (a.k.a women), lose our heads once a month.

…A day comes when it all makes sense:

“Oh, that time of the month is soon to come.”

When it all makes sense, it happens that, a millisecond before, I woke up with a sense of remorse:

“What have I done? What have I said? When are we getting time machines?”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, once more, I screwed up being mean to someone, I compromised myself saying things I didn’t mean or didn’t want to say, or I embarrassed myself crying outloud for something of tiny significance.

On the best cases I only end up crying without witnesses while I see a television advertising (God forbid I run into The Notebook movie). I might end up getting angry because I’m asked at what time I went to sleep last night, or I might feel utterly sad because there is no broccoli in the market. On the worst cases I cry nonstop while I storm out things I don’t want to say, because the whole world seems to hate me and/or hurt me. It can also happen that I feel completely unloved because I was given one kiss, instead of two. In middle ground scenarios, I end up saying to the person trying to cut into the line of the bus entry: “hey, you came here last, don’t cut into the line”, loud and clear in front of everyone, with a sort of nice voice, but maybe not a matching face.

I have no control over this, and I’m simply not aware of it when it happens, until when it all makes sense, as I mentioned before.

The guilt, the involuntary easy to come heart felt tears, the apologies, and… sometimes the following days’ pain! It’s tough to be a woman!

It might be a weird subject to write and try to joke about, but looking at things with humor is always the best approach in life, don’t you think? Enjoy: