Sunday, 02.28.10 - 11:45 am.
Joseph:
I am not capable of wishing you a happy birthday. I am not capable of wishing you anything good. Or anything bad. There's nothing to wish, I know you're ok and that's it.
I would like to tell you some things, to try to make you proud of me, although instead you'd perhaps feel hurt because I did those things until you weren't around. And you'd use that argument to justify I'm better off without you. Don't give yourself so much credit; these things had to happen with or without you. I would have rather with, but that wasn't my decision.
I didn't have the time to know what hit me. Five months after you asked me for a time-out I was sending you a wedding present (by then, still in shock, I was capable of wishing you something goodto you and to whomever you considered was the best thing that ever happened in your life). Everything was so hard and never before I appreciated so much the fact that breathing is a reflex. As much as a reflex as thinking of you is. My feelings for you haven't changed, except that now, every night before I go to sleep, I give thanks for not having run into you that day.
But still, last night I dreamed that you invited me to your house. When I saw you coming to me, I felt the pressure of three atmospheres on my chest. You gave me a glass, with coffee. I was so afflicted by our encounter that I squeezed it so hard that I cracked it. You solemnly announced me that you needed for me to lend you a green book. You told me you or your wife would come by to pick it up. I woke up crying at 4 am, but then I calmed down and fell asleep again. As the Fight Club Narrator says (I'm not touching that DVD, it's like a kiss of Judas), after getting so beat up, even babies don't sleep this well.
I don't wish you anything. Maybe I wish the conversation we had in January had happened in October (you know I'm a bit of a Sheldon Cooper relationship-wise and I need everything to be spelled-out); maybe I wish you had had the heart to block me so I wouldn't see you parading your awesome fairy tale; maybe I wish you weren't so naive and realized that from such devastation like the one you caused no one bounces back in the time I've been trying to. But those are my problems and it's been long since my life is none of your business and viceversa.
The only thing I can offer for your birthday, aside from remembering the date until I die, is that the next coffee I have will be in your honor. In spite of everything, I'm glad once there was somebody like you in my life.
***
I wanted to get my tattoo today, as a way to be linked with Joseph somehow, but it's not gonna happen...I'm not entirely satisfied with that but that's life goes. Design's not ready, I have other financial priorities, I didn't make my appointment. Today's just a day and any day should be good enough to get inked, I guess. So I'll try to get over this.
I took the TOEFL yesterday morning. I spent most of the afternoon crying hard over Joseph and writing the letter above, typing and deleting, deleting and typing. At night I went with my friend Monica to see Coco avant Chanel and afterwards we talked about my Joseph and her Joseph and how JC is plagued with guilt over what he did to me.
On friday night I attended a classic rock concert at a museum. I went with Nephew #1. It was amazing listening to good music under the stars. Also, I fell in love with a guy. He looked like Lighthouse, but so much better; slightly long hair, a bandana, black shirt. He never once looked at me.