Autor: cheshire cat | Publicado: 2012-05-13T23:03:00-03:00



Weird feeling this one...



I feel so empty and so sad all the time I'm
alone. I take my stuff at home to come over here, I'm sad (have to look at
those things I brought today from his house, it's still on top of my bed
because I didn't have the guts to put them away). I think of taking my book and
my computer, I'm sad (we would watch Cavaleiros do Zodiaco, or perhaps some
good movie - scary or ridiculously fun - and then after we would have sex and
hug). Than after one or two of those thoughts, everything starts to feel lame
and my chest gets cold and my tongue gets bitter. No movement I do is free of
pain or bother. I say goodnight to my mom, and I'm alone then. I leave my
house, walk slowly into the street, and each step shows me I am missing
something. 



Then I arrive at my aunt's gate and figure
out I am locked outside. And my body forgets all the pain in order to start
thinking of calling her, or maybe this other key I have here is from the gate -
let me try, or not, I'll just call her, and she comes, and opens, and I am
talking to her, no weird feeling at all! 



I say goodnight, go to my room, and
everything gets quiet again. It's time for the bad feelings to come back; and
so they come! I look inside, the twin bed requires only one pillow now. And I
don't have to care about the dust on the covers, I have no allergy at all. I
see the computer table I brought here today also, it's there, still empty, and
I put on top of it all the belongings I thought it would be useful to bring to
my aunt's house: my backpack (which contains my computer amongst other things),
my book (it would be a great companion if I could focus myself, but maybe not
tonight), and a little plastic bag with my Diamondback 3g Razer mouse (a gift
from him for our first valentine's day). I just hid the mouse inside the table's
drawer, don't want to keep looking at it. Wanna forget it, other things already
hurt enough for now.



You should be thinking: hold on!, wasn't
you the one who broke up?



I say: yes, and I hate it. I hate this part
right here, since I still love him. I hate doing this, but I had to. I couldn't
be happy for his happiness anymore, and I couldn't keep wondering if he would
grow up in time (what is IN TIME?). I was thinking too much about other boys.
In my head, it was already over. But I was being a bitch and keeping him with
me, I hate being alone.



But I hate being alone when the feeling is
this emptiness. It's ok for me to do anything alone: go to the mall, go
shopping, go to the movies, go have dinner or even watch some show. I don't
care at all, IF I have this person taking care of my inside. I would LOVE to be
here alone, to spend&nbsp; a weekend alone
with my parents, to lay here at this bed alone and spend this night alone, IF I
still had him. But he couldn't listen. Then, when he finally realized he was that
child I always told him about, that his decisions and his moves were actually
so damn immature, well, it was too late.



We broke up Tuesday night. He sent me an
e-mail Thursday night, saying he got it. Saying he talked to his friends, mom,
and whatever, and that now he could see where all this stress and
disappointment was coming from. When he cried when we argued and made me mad,
when he made me feel bad for wanting to go out with my new work colleagues,
when he couldn't see that his decisions were not ok. I know I am impatient like
an old lady, but I was never cold. I never forgot about him. I wanted to stay
there, on his arms, being loved and cared, laughing or simply just staying
quiet. But now it's too late, because after a huge suffering it doesn't matter
how much we wanted to get back together, the feeling would not be the same. It
always leaves a scar. And maybe I just don't want a scar.



And I just saw this fan here in the floor,
and he comes again into my mind (he could not sleep without a good fan winding
over him). The book I'm reading has his handwriting saying some very nice words
on the cover (yes, he started doing that because I liked). The room is too
quiet. I feel the hole inside my chest. It is cold.



I know I had to do this, otherwise I would
not be in peace with myself. I needed to stay single for a while, I always had
boyfriends and never knew who I am for sure when I am by myself (single). But I
still can see his face, smiling (he had this beautiful smile) and today I
hugged him and I still wanted to hug him, and do this little caress I used to
(with my closed hand touching him like a cat's claw - tchh tchh tchh we said).
And he was fine, he didn't cry, but I did. I know I'll never be loved like that
again. And I know that because that was an impossible love already.



What comforts me is that I thought I would
never cry for anyone again. When we broke up I was so angry and so mad that I
didn't even cry for sadness (I cried because it was a hard decision to take,
and he was crying also). But now I cry for sadness, I guess it took a while to
hit me. What he said on the e-mail, that he got what I said and learned from
it, it made me feel better, because he learned and he doesn't think I am this
cold bitch. I know he thought I cheated on him, because he tried to ask me that
a few times. But I never did, not physically, no never. And I couldn't not even
if I would. The bad angel is strong in my head, but the good angel is strong in
my body.



It was just too nice to hang out with him.
My mom said she liked him, he had a great mood. My dad also liked him, and he
liked my dad (asked me to send a special hug for dad, and to tell him he is the
most brilliant person he had ever met). He sent this great great tight hug for
my cousin (yeah, I know they loved themselves at the first sight). And man... I
feel I took him from my family. I hate this, and I hate myself when I think of
this, and I hate myself for doing this.



Never thought I would cry for breaking up,
but I am crying like a baby. I feel so sad and so tired of any sort of action
that something my chest goes down, empty from air, and I have to tell my brain
to get a breath again, after a few long seconds without breathing. 



I am glad I have no wireless internet here,
I was able to force myself to write this. It feels very different the writing
from the thinking. I think I am able to put my thoughts into a line instead of
just throwing the feelings into the air at the same time.



I could write about the death of this mouse
I saw today, his life leaving his eyes with a single bite from Pietra. And I
could write about the talk I had with my mom today over the death of our
neighbor that she tried to save, but couldn't. Or I could talk the whole night
long about this fucked up feeling I have constantly disturbing and freezing and
choking me. But I guess I'm done with this bad feelings chat, at least for the
night.



I could write about the songs I listen to,
since I have this weird selective taste for songs but how I am open to whatever
singer that shows up. I could write about my friends loving my picture with a
fake dark hair that the photo effect gave me. I could write about how my job is
making me happy and how good I think I have been doing lately. But I just can't
build any deep thoughts over happy and comfortable feelings, at least for the
night.



I don't know what I am expecting to happen
to make me feel better. I don't even know if I am expecting anything to happen.
I don't know what I have to do to make me feel better, but I know I have to try
something. Because it can't just be like this.



I feel less stressed, maybe the crying is
not stressing. Maybe the hating was the problem. Now that I have nothing else
(except me) to hate, I'm able to control this hate level.



I want to send him messages all the time,
like "I'm at my aunt's house. It's so empty here. Everything reminds me of
you. I just wanted to hug you right now.". Or even "Is this as hard
for you as it is for me, or how did you get better? Please help!". But I
haven't sent. I am old enough (inside of my mind, at least) to know that I
better control myself than sending them. We both need to let it go, and if he
did it better and faster than me, well, good for him!



I don't wanna keep thinking on how happy we
were. On how I desired him since the first time I saw his face and heard his
laugh. On our first kiss, in front of Outback - of course I called him out, and
I took the first step of that kiss. And holy god, how much I thought I was
cursed for letting go a guy with a huge dick to get this guy that had this so
regular one (until I figured out he could do much and more with it). And how
anxious and scared he was when we went to have sex for the first time (he
couldn't get it up, so we just kept chatting until he relaxed). I understood it
all later, when I knew he was very newbie at it and he thought I would laugh
over his dick size, and he was scared of fucking me because for him FUCKING was
wrong (we had to MAKE LOVE).



Well... I learned a lot from this one. All
that I didn't learn from Cauê I learned from him. He had a pure love, a pure
mind, a very square mind (no changes allowed on his opinion over forbidden
things, not even over tattoo or piercing). I loved having him talking excited
about some movie or new game, or even about this tv series or anime we should
watch (we were watching&nbsp; Cavaleiros do
Zodiaco from the first episode. I still am not ready to watch it alone.).



His thoughts were focused on games and nerd
things. I had so much more in me that it was killing me that I couldn't share.
He hated eating anything else than what he already ate - and I could resume his
food into few words: strawberry, cheese, pizza, pasta and burger king). I got
very limited about my cooking.



He didn't like my wines (he liked the
sweet-arg-wines). At least he liked the brie cheese.



Still I miss him. I just wanted to stay
alone sometimes. I just needed to stay sleeping Friday night at my house, not
even if I had to travel Saturday morning, and not always, just when I was
fucking damn tired. But he said I didn't like him enough for wanting that. I
just wanted to be able to take decisions without being repressed. I just wanted
we had the same culture.



We were too different in almost everything,
but he made every point we had in common to work very well. The problem is that
they were too limited. I loved playing with him, but that became an obligation
since we were living apart (he said it was the way he felt hanging out with
me). And I loved watching things with him (but that's all we had to do). It was
too late when I finally convinced him to have his own life besides me, and he
went out with some friends, and became a better person. Too late though.



How sad things to happen like this. How sad
to just be alone. The problem is that I decided to be single for an unplanned
time (the only plan is that it has to be a huge time).



So I miss him, on every move and thought.
And I miss him on everything my eyes can reach and on every breath my stupid
body takes.



I just can't take this tears... I hate this
part right here.



"I can't take it any longer, thought
that we were stronger...The world slows down, but my heart beats fast right now. I know this is the part where the end starts. I know you'll ask me to hold on and carry on like nothing is wrong, but there's no more time for lies... 'cause I can see the sunset in your eyes." -&gt; pieces of I Hate This Part, from Pussycat dolls.&nbsp;