Tuesday, 02.28.2012 - 12:49 pm.
Today, one year ago, I took a flight to Chile. I arrived the next day but I like to commemorate the day I left, for a nice reason and for a somber reason.
The nice reason, of course, is that my dream had come true. I'm constantly aware that I am living my dream, even if my life in general is pretty average. I made it, I made it abroad, I made it to a master's degree program, I made it to living on my own. I made it, to my surprise, to a home away from home, with a man I always wished for. I remember the goodbyes at the airport, I wasn't very tearful perhaps because I was too excited, and I also didn't want my family to shed one tear for me. I was excited, going into the unknown, and I headed to the gate like Strutting Leo.
The somber reason is that today is Joseph's birthday. Today I tried to put on Facebook the important event that it was my leaving, just to spite his non-existent presence in my life (?)...but it won't let me. All events can be filled out easily, but I choose "travel" and says that there's a previous field I have left blank. I went nuts and Andrew asked if it was THAT important. I tried to calm myself: indeed, I was doing this just to spite a guy that doesn't even care about my existence anymore, so why should I care about all this?
Still.
This morning I was thinking about a certain argument we once had over guns and I was raging -yes, this morning!- about his clever-but-stupid argument and how then I couldn't think of a good comeback. I was thinking of the pictures I saw of his first or second birthday after he dumped me, how he was surrounded by friends and his new wife hugging him, all around a birthday cake. But you know, I also felt that wasn't my place to be. I was hurt and ashamed that I was never capable of giving him a memorable birthday and every year his wife will earn points for that. But when I saw those particular pictures I didn't wish I was her, for example.
I wrote this letter to him two years ago, and it reflects my sentiments to this day. And three years ago, I was lamenting how he was celebrating in the neighbor country he loves, while all I did his birthday before that one was take him to Pizza Hut. Not only the way he systematically hurt me (whether intentionally or not) haunts me; all my guilt and shame about how lame I was when I was with him haunt me, too.
Sometimes I try to talk about him with my friend Angel or my friend Victoria, since with both of them I have a close and constant communication (as close and constant as one living in Canada and being a father, and the other one having moved to Colombia and trying to find her place there, allow me to). They never reply much about it, most of the times nothing at all. Which makes me think that perhaps they're sick and tired of hearing about that subject and prefer not to encourage me to keep dwelling on it. Maybe if this diary could talk it'd ask me to shut up, too.
But it's funny, because aside from them and the dear readers of S'sT, nobody would believe I have this, say, post-traumatic stress. Or that I was devastated in the first place. One time last year I talked to my friend Michelle about this and she was surprised that I was still very hurt. She thought I had moved on years ago (because, maybe, that's the healthy thing to do). I'm much better now but something remains. But go ask anyone in my real life, nobody would imagine what's been going on, the heartache I feel from what Joseph did.
These days I've been worried with other stuff, though. With the anniversary of my leaving home, I got inmensely blue over the weekend. With my inability to make up good stories and write them, I got infuriated. For the first time, I physically ached for having my friends nearby and going out for a cup of coffee. It hurt and I felt lonely. Andrew was also a bit distant over the weekend, maybe in part because I had my very serious face on, but that made me feel even more lonely. And when I tried to get over myself and get close to him, it turned out he was also a bit moody. I was going crazy in the apartment and I asked him to go for a walk but he told me to go on my own. I was going to do it, anyway.
I broke down yesterday morning in the shower. I cried a lot, and I was very tearful afterwards. I hadn't cried like that since my sleepless nights after finding out that Joseph was in love with somebody else. I mean, crying out loud. I missed my family, I missed my home. I missed going out with friends. It hurt remembering saying goodbye to my parents, my sister, my nephew #2 in the airport and how far away we are. A lot of things hurt and I wished to die. I hadn't wished to die in a long time, but I felt trapped. Everyone I love but Andrew is out of my reach, maybe for the rest of my life. And I'm worried sick about what's going to happen next year and the few times I've tried to approach Andrew about that, I've been discouraged.
I don't know if Andrew heard me cry, I think he didn't. But I'm pretty sure he noticed something was really wrong with me because after I came out of the shower, I just...knew he was around. He heated up the bedroom while I was in the shower, and he brought me a piece of chocolate, just entering his arm into the bedroom and not looking at me. He came with me downtown to run errands on my visa (I'm gonna be illegal for a couple of weeks, I'm afraid). He bought lunch and in general, was with me. That made me feel a whole lot better.
I also gave myself a pep talk, reminding me that I'm doing ok and I'll be ok. I'm where I wanted to be and whatever happens next year, it's up to me. I have Andrew and he's a true partner, and my family and friends are well, and while it hurts being away from them (like it'd never hurt before), what's important is that I keep in touch with them constantly. And the summer vacation is almost over and I get back to work, so I'll also pick my routine up.
The cherry on top is that I finally started writing something I like. It's going to take time but I found a road I want to follow, a character and a story. And there's the Joseph subplot, because all pain and shame aside, it's a good story to tell. That's making me go back and keep reading old entries, so I was reminded, for instance, that I was ok with the "break" when he said we should take one. We actually weren't on good terms (we were bored with the routine of the relationship -partly my fault for not going out, but not just mine-, and I refused to have sex without protection, which he interpreted as me not being attracted to him anymore...hmph) so I went with it. But I still feel like he tricked me, he cheated on me with that.
Anyway! I said, fuck it, I'll write it all. One of these days I read an advice for writers, that said one must'n think of anyone else when writing. I'll think of me, what I know, what I've seen, what I feel, what I want to say. Doesn't matter who reads it (not a lof of peole would, anyway). And Joseph certainly won't. He got away with destroying a part of me, I'm entitled to at least write about it.