The [VERY] profane and the holy of today.
Thursday, 03/24/05 - 10:37 pm.

For your viewing pleasure (or digust) I'm going to start with the profane part of the day.

Cel had invited me to her house this morning. My brother and dad kept offering me a ride, but after long thoughts, I got out of the house and took the car myself. It's the Holy Week, and the streets are empty. I had no trouble getting there, it took me like five minutes.

I was proud of myself when I got out of the car, and I rang the bell. A woman got the door, and she said Cel was out of the city with her family. They made plans last night, she explained to me. I tried to reach Cel on her cell phone before I left the house, but the number was "not available". Which is why I simply went in the car and drove. Fuck it, I'd thought. She must be home, we'd agreed on it. Well, she didn't care.

Fuck her, I thought, and I took out my cell phone to dial Joseph's number. Joseph's house, you may not know, is not more than six houses away from Cel's.

- Joseph: hello?
- Me: hey. Are you home?
- Joseph: yes.
- Me: can you come out?

I'd dreamed of doing that since november, but I swear I wasn't expecting it to happen. I didn't plan on it, and it wasn't only until I drove to his house that it felt like a dejavu.

He came out, and we stood against the car for a while. Yesterday my parents and I were talking about you, how they want to meet you and all. "She'll probably come when you're on vacation", I told them, "that's my luck". And there you go.

The house was empty, and he invited me to come in. I went to his bedroom, and we sat on his bed. His favorite soap opera was beggining. I kept my distance, because I was nervous. May I sit closer?, he asked. I wanted him to, obviously.

So, um, I'll spare you the details of what happened next.

No, not really. Sorry. He sat next to me but I warned him that I was on the red spot of the month. Still, we started making out on the bed, rolling over the sheets. It was something we'd never had, intimacy. He kept asking me if I was comfortable. I was, as much as the situation allowed me to. I was mostly worried about my unexpected lie (supposedly, I was at Cel's) and my curfew. Because I I was going out with my family, for lunch, at noon, so I only had an hour.

He kept saying it was a dream. I can't believe it, this isn't true. I'm finally like this, with the woman I love. It was strange, a good strange, being alone with my boyfriend for the first time. I love you, I want to take you to, wait, that already happened!.

I was going to break up with you on monday. Actually, I was going to break up with you that friday, when the semester began (two weeks ago). But you were with that damn guy, I wasn't going to do it in front of him. Joe. That "damn guy" is Joe.

Lord. These two Josephs are entwined, and I owe each other: I met Joe because of Joseph (scheduling guitar lessons in order to be able to have more time for Joseph), and now I come to find that Joe -indirectly- kept Joseph from breaking up with me.

Well. You want to read about action, don't you? There was a lot of it, but if you must know, we always kept our pants on. I couldn't resist taking his shirt off when he was on top of me, though. And obviously he had the same urge, but he was constantly making sure that I was comfortable in every possible way. If I had preservatives, if you weren't on your period, and if we had more time..., yeah, you know.

All in all, it was great. A real relationship needs intimacy, and we finally had it...and we'll continue to have it. It was wonderful, being alone with him. Kind of like in the movies, too, with the phone interrupting us and such. And it's just beautiful to have someone next to you in bed, with your arms wrapped around that person. I love him. Unfortunately, I had to leave, so I put my, uh, clothes on, and went to the bathroom to fix my hair and everything.

I heard him from the other room (his bedroom is literally under the house, and is like a little apartment) saying he had to meet up with some guy, hours ago. You should've told me!, I said. No way I was going to tell you!. Then he dolled himself up and walked me to the door. We kissed goodbye. He started to say something, I..., but I put the palm of my hand in his face and walked away. There was no need to say a thing. Drive with confidence, were his last words. And strangely enough, I did.

Everything worked out perfectly. Cel wasn't home, and Joseph was going to the beach early in the morning, but something came up and he was late, which is why he was home when I called him. Good Lord. So, we're ok now. I made up for all my fuck-ups. And hopefully now I'll be able to sleep more than five hours a night.

And with this lovely news I wrap the profane part of the entry.

The holy part is that today is the 25th anniversary. It feels like a national holiday, even though the right wing always denies everything. I was watching a documentary tonight, and it had all those ugly images from war, all the mutilated bodies, and the soldiers kidnapping people. But the bottom line is, how among the civil war, that man was able to stand up and speak up. For sure.

I'm finally starting to feel like this is the Holy Week....psh, now that it's about to finish. The last days are very intense, because they relate with the tough parts of the story of Jesus. My views of the world from my religion have changed drastically since I was a child, but I'm always moved by all this. I definitely believe in God, it's just's not the traditional one.

Well, I'm tired, and I'm talking to Joe, and I, I...I will stop here, without a conclusion.

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