Ask any, and I mean any, latin person you've met or will ever meet and they won't hesitate for a second before starting a rant about how loud and intrusive their families are. True, I am from one of the very few latin countries that don't speak Spanish (the large one, if you're wondering), but still, some elements truly bond us all.
The thing with my family is that, still as intrusive as the next one, we really keep to ourselves. Inner circle. Quite centre. Bullseye, if I do say so myself. The butthole of the fly sitting on the centre, to be exact.
You know that movie 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding'? It's like we're the American family, but we're actually the greek ones. Did that make any sense?
Remember a few words ago when I mentioned I grew up lonely? Let me paint you the picture: I have one uncle on my mother's side and two on my father's. They all got married, including my parents, at around the same years, something close to twelve years before I was born. They went to have children all right and all the cousins were of proximate age, little James being the youngest, about five years everybody else's junior. I am six years younger than little James. When I was born, all the other cousins were reaching the end of their childhoods. In addition to that, both my parents and all of my uncles got divorced shortly after. So there we were, grandma, mom, sis (11 years my senior) and I. No other children. Not even on our street. I didn't grow up playing on the street as all my classmates. I indeed never learnt to socialise. And it showed. Actually, still shows.
I have also been very good at reading people's reactions towards me. Negative readings, by the way. Once in second grade a kid was having his birthday party and invited all of us to it. I could see it in his face, my invitation was out of obligation. I could picture his tantrum with his mother. That 'ability' always came in handy in adult life. I always knew when my relationships had ended. That brief frown and a sigh that betray the fake smile coming right afterwards, no matter how they tried to disguise it.
I have already experienced that reaction to my arrival from each and every one of my boyfriends. As I am telling this story I think I am indeed starting to see the monster so many people see and have seen for a long time, by the looks of it.
My mother watches a lot of 'The Big Bang Theory'. She says Sheldon is a constant reminder to her of myself, so she watches it whenever she misses me. Not the mathematical genius part, because I once used a calculator to divide 1.6 by 1 and redid the operation when the display showed me the original number, thinking I had forgotten to do it on the first place, but my way to push people away with my honesty is just the same.
A lifetime of people vocally not liking you is enough to break anyone's self-esteem.
I'm starting to agree with those famous people who say the hardest part in writing an autobiography is facing the mirror.
We are always more to blame than we think. We are also always much more innocent than our own punishments make us believe. It is really hard to find that balance.
That knot on my throat coming with my stomach turning upside down whenever I sense that a turning point is coming is by now a familiar feeling. The friends I have now say I worry too much. I always reply by saying it comes from a place of experience.
Honesty is raw. It is an open road with no obstacles that keeps pushing you, never allowing a step back. I think that's why I appreciate it so much. Lies waste your time, they make you go round in endless circles and the only thing you get is older.
I woke up to another setting sun the day I asked Oliver to be my boyfriend. I was feeling lazy. I cherished that for a while. When you are depressed, your body and soul are ponds of emptiness, so whenever any emotion or feeling came, I made sure to cherish it. I finally reached for my laptop, but steered away from that website. I checked my social networks and started feeling the laziness fading away. It gave room to the nothingness again. I tried opening Photoshop and designing something new, but even my art was seriously showing my depression. I closed the software even before it had totally loaded.
I got my cellphone to check for any messages. There was only one, from Oliver.
'Good morning, my love. What time are you arriving?'
Uuuuh. Arriving where? Did we agree to anything? He was the one who drank his soul and I was the one forgetting shit? Well, confusion's number one enemy is honesty, so I thought about cutting to the chase.
'Good morning, sweetie' again, I had woken up. It's good morning to me. I don't care if it's already past seven pm. Get used to it. 'Did you sleep well? Arrive where?'
His reply came immediately after.
'I did. But woke up feeling better, thinking of you. Arrive at the store.'
'Oown. That's so sweet. Did we agree to anything? Sorry, I just woke up and can't really remember.'
'We didn't, actually. I just really want to see you again.'
Well, he did say he loved me after the first date, so was it really shocking that he wanted to have three dates in a row?
You see, that was the funny thing about Oliver. Whenever we shared messages, he was really clingy, saying that he loved me after one date, always saying he missed me and always asking me to go to him. However, when we did actually meet, he wasn't clingy at all. Always happy to be by my side and never cold or distant, but always also very respectful of my personal space. Being with him was so pleasant that I never refused when he asked me to go see him.
And he asked me to go see him everyday. Every. Single. Day.
About a week after we started dating, or seven dates later, I was going to meet him after leaving work. This part of my life is really blurred.
I remember finding a few jobs and getting kicked out of all of them, one at a time. I was too depressed to understand the passing of time. I would get up, go to work just like the next day, but it would actually be four days later. Alarm clocks didn't help. I was honest when I told Oliver I had never been so low.
So, when I went to meet him that day I had gotten fired again. I really thought I had gone to work the day before, turns out I hadn't since before meeting Oliver.
'When you get here there's something I need to tell you. I hope it doesn't change anything.'
I almost threw up inside the bus. I know we mustn't place our happiness in anybody else's hand, but try to remember and achieve that when the only ray of light in the engulfing darkness that is your depressed life comes from someone else. I wasn't strong enough to understand the concept of one day after the other, do you really think I'd have the strength for that?
My mind was racing through all the worst possibilities. He was married, he was terminally ill, he was running away from the police, he was running away from some bad guys. Those last two didn't make sense, he had a steady job at a mall, he wasn't really hard to find. Still. I couldn't even reply to him. I shoved the phone in my pocket and forgot about it. I wish I could forget about it, at least. I also wish I could say I was strong enough to not pick my phone up again until arriving at his store. I indeed didn't pick it up, but not out of strength, out of fear.
I arrived and was welcomed with a large smile that faded right after he read my expression. He excused himself from the store for his lunch hour, which he waited to spend with me and I found that the cutest thing on Earth. And now he was going to tell me something horrid and I would never see him again.
'What happened, babe?'
'I was fired.'
'On your first day?'
'It was not my first day. I thought it was the second, but I actually spent a week without showing up. I'm sorry, Ol, I'm so sorry. I want to show you the responsible adult I am and I can't even seem to be able to follow a fucking calendar.'
'It's okay, my love. It's okay' he said as he hugged me holding my head. We were still inside the mall, but it was a weekday evening, so the place was rather empty apart from the food court. 'I know you're going through a bad time...'
'So go on, make it worse. What do you have to tell me that is so bad you hope it doesn't change anything?' I went from sorrow to anger impressively fast. I always change emotions too fast for people to follow. He sighed, mastering the courage to come clean.
'It's my religion.'
Shit. I didn't think of that.
'What? Are you a kind of mormon who hates yourself for being gay and now you're breaking up with me to complete your conversion?'
He actually laughed. I was really being aggressive and he could see where it all came from and so was being so patient with me. I know it had been only one week, but I was going to miss him so fucking much.
'No, babe. It's not that' and he proceeded to explain he was actually part of a very strong African religion in our country.
'That's it? You made me panic for that? How exactly did you think it could make anything different?'
'A lot of people rejected it. Many are even afraid of it. I didn't know how you were going to take it. You told me you had been raised Catholic.'
'Yeah, that's my family. Especially my grandmother. Not me. Besides, it's your faith, how could I ever have a problem with that?'
Then I saw one of his most honest and thankful smiles ever.
'There is one thing, though, that upset me' I continued, making my voice low. 'If you thought it was so serious to the point of actually being afraid it could have changed anything, why wait so long to tell me? It's not like you didn't have a chance.'
'I know. I know. I was just scared, that's all. I know we are just starting our life together, but I want it to be a long one.'
Seriously, how can you stay mad after that? Also, how can he seem to love me so much after so little time? I hugged him the same way he had hugged me shortly before.
'I know. I know. I want it, too. But the safest route is communication and honesty. If you think I should know something, tell me. I know I'm in a dark place right now, but I'm not the monster people say.'
'I know you're not. And I know you'll get out of that dark place soon and you'll find a job that you'll actually remember going back to.'
I chuckled.
We talked about nothing special for the remainder of his break and I walked him to his store before going back home.
'What time are you coming tomorrow? So I can tell my boss.'
'Uuh... About that...'
'You don't wanna come?' There was serious sadness in his voice.
'I do! I do! Don't get me wrong. It's just... Gosh, that's embarrassing...'
'You don't have a job anymore and now you're out of money for the bus' he completed my sentence while reaching for his wallet and extracting his bus card from it. 'I knew it would happen soon. I'm surprised you managed to come all these days. Here. Take this and come see me tomorrow.'
'No. Absolutely not. No way, José. No chance in hell. That money is yours, not mine. Seriously, I could never. I do things when I can do them by my own. No. Plus, how are you getting to work?'
'Ralph, that means a lot. But seeing you means much more. If it's the only way, so be it. Also, you know I live twenty minutes away from here on foot. I rarely use it anyway. Please, take it.'
'I can't, Ol. I just can't. I really want to keep seeing you like this, but if I can't I just can't.'
'Now you're being stubborn.'
'I'm not...'
'Listen to me. You're going to take this' he reached for me and put the card inside the pocket of my jeans, 'and you're coming back tomorrow to see me. Now go home. Text me when you're there and remember I love you.'
'Ol, I...'
'I have to go back inside. See you tomorrow. We'll text later. Love you.'
I sighed.
'Love you, too.'
I turned on my feet after he had entered the store, already talking to a customer. As I went to the bus stop I placed his card inside my wallet, where I used to keep mine when I also had a steady job. I hated depending on people, but Oliver didn't make me feel like I was depending on him. I hated bothering people, making them go an inch out of their way because of me, but Oliver didn't make me feel like that. When I sat on the bus I took the card out of my wallet and kept staring at it. I didn't feel like a burden. I felt loved.
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