Almost 4 years later

Almost four years later, the boy who broke my heart, the boy’s friend who humiliated me and made me hate the skin people had seen, and the boy who cheated on me met in England. ‘They told me about this book you’re writing’, one of them said. It was the closure I thought I had found in the past four years. To think, that time truly did its healing. That three men now sat in a different country and had my name make its way into the conversation. And for the first time, followed with truth.

Four years later, the boy, now man, who broke my heart messaged me the words I didn’t need to hear. I promise to you that I did not need to hear them. Yet I understand why I cried and smiled after reading it.

‘Listen Angela I’m sorry but if truth be told I’m not in a good place. I’m very ashamed of who I was and what I’ve become and it’s taking its toll on me. I just want to change my life around, be the good guy and all that stereotypical bullshit you see on TV. And honestly, I’m so disgusted by my relationship with you, all I want is to try and make it right, and I feel like the first step is to change my life, and as selfish and pathetic as it sounds, you’re a painful reminder of who I once was, and I need to change that. I’m trying to move out by saving money working odd jobs, and honestly I’m stressed the fuck out and I’m not the most equipped person to handle it. I’m sorry Angela, you at least deserve to know why im acting like this. I really hope to have that coffee with you when all this is all over, and we can have a proper laugh about how ridiculous we once were, but right now I just need some time. I really hope you’re doing well and that you’re life is finally taking the path you want to lead, you really deserve the world Angela. I’m sorry for all the pain and heartache I’ve caused you, you didn’t deserve any of it. From the bottom of my heart I really hope you’ve finally found peace, you really do mean a lot to me.’

Four years later, I have not stopped loving, but rather stopped waiting to be loved. Four years later, I got to be the girl they did not know how to care for. And four years later, I am no longer the girl who lost them, but rather the girl they did not know how to love.

 

‘You really deserve the world, Angela’.

The words I am most grateful for.

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Alone, But Please Not Lonely- A Very Personal Podcast

My Mother

 

Before I begin, I need to explain who my mother is as a person. I need to write about Her. I use ‘Her’ with a capital ‘H’ because if God should be written with a capital letter, my mother deserves Her name to be spelt ‘ESTHER’. The concept of having it written with a capital ‘G’ is meant to symbolise respect and admiration. And no one has earned that more than my mother has. My mother and Frida Kahlo are the two women who embody life and act as the epitome of womanhood.

Esther is an individual before any other title; even if She prioritises the role of a mother above all else. She is the purest form of kindness. You see, when most children state their mother’s favourite flowers, they state names such as; roses, tulips or daises. I stay silent when this conversation sparks as my mother is the entire garden that holds their mother’s favourite flowers. Esther is the outskirts of Amsterdam and the landmark tourists and locals find too beautiful to argue over. I simply could not narrow her down further. So I don’t even try. I was young when I began to admire Her for who She was rather than what She was to me.

Esther likes humble environments and is the only person who could turn Fashion Week in Milan a charity event. She can walk around in a Louis Vuitton handbag and you will know, from the way she smiles at everyone around Her, that She deserves it.

She doesn’t like the feel of makeup, which is great for a five-year-old who can’t stop kissing her cheek. She does, however, love wearing red lipstick. When She wears mascara, it smudges on Her lid because She can’t keep her eyes closed or still for too long- She can’t stay still in general for too long. She knows that She’s needed 24 hours on the clock. She holds your hand and it feels like a life jacket being tied around your body in the shallowest pool. And it sometimes hurts because of the simple rings that decorate Her fingers. Her hands are always cold. And She will apologise when you react to them as She reaches to get the thermometer away from your underarm. But I guarantee, you will not care about any of that while She holds yours. That is why I cannot get a blood test or tolerate a plane take-off if I am not holding Her hand.

She is simple. She loves simple things. But when She wears them, they are no longer that: simple. She regrets not having studied. But I don’t think She realises that university is for those who need a direction within their intelligence. And Esther already has it. If my mother would have studied, She probably would have cured cancer. Instead, She cured my loneliness and my homesickness every single day. It might not be as grand as curing cancer. But it cured me. Which probably gave Her enough hope to keep being as nurturing as She has always been. How do I know this? Just hug Her. Whoever invented the saying ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ didn’t know my mother. It would take my mother to raise a village.

I feel guilty that only a sum of people has met Her. Sometimes I want to make a post about Her go viral, or have someone discover Her and name Her Mother Theresa the second. It simply isn’t fair that I have Her as my mother.

Esther is strong. So fucking strong. For reasons no one in her circle understands. I live to understand how the most nurturing person in the world could lose a child. It’s a question I hope has been answered for Her. My mother is lonely. Not out of choice, of course. She is the liveliest bird forced to be kept in a cage, being told every year that She should appreciate what the cage is filled with. My mother has left Her country and everything within it and it hasn’t paid off yet. Eleven years later- it hasn’t paid off. My mother needs more. My mother deserves more. My mother deserves a plaque in her town and the carnicero to wait for Her every Tuesday morning. She deserves to feel pretty before going to Mercadona due to the numerous smiles she will encounter. Esther needs to talk to strangers. I inherited that the moment I could speak. Esther needs to feel surrounded by kindness.

My mother is the epitome of a Spanish woman. She wears red, floral patterns and loves to dance. She dances like she is translating ‘viva la vida!’ to the deaf. And you will smile back, holding back your response: ’viva!’

She is a friend. And how unfair that people don’t know how to be Her friend. That has to be the greatest tragedy this goddamn world has ever witnessed. And I hope that with every coffee, I can be 5 percent of the friend She deserves. She listens. And acknowledges that I do not. I try to. But I always have so much to say to Her. Being around Her feels like the last five minutes of the hardest exam; I try to cram everything in. She assures me that She is not going anywhere. But my biggest fear is the time that is running out with Her. My mother used to apologise more than She does now. And I like that She doesn’t as much as She did.

My mother learned three languages for Her family. She learned the language She needed to get by in our new home. She learned the language that made Her happy when not being allowed to use Spanish outside of our four walls, and She is learning English for the endless school meetings She always attends to for Her children. On a plain day, you will find Her on Duolingo or speaking with Her English friend in our school coffee shop, practicing Her English. Esther thinks that She isn’t great at it yet, but She has the power to communicate in languages humans haven’t invented yet. Just with Her cheerful greetings and hand gestures, you could keep talking to Her for hours. I hope, I truly hope, that one day I will translate my writing for Her. But this time, to keep Spanish within us. Not out of need. I hope that one day She can read the work I’ve produced. Because She doesn’t know it, but I write so that She can read it.

Esther is the woman anyone that has met Her wants to become. She is the influence behind Her children, behind Her family, and behind the strangers She has talked to. She is what mothers should aspire to be, what teenagers look up to, and what children want to cling onto. My mother is what I hope God was.

Conversation With a Friend: Romance- A Podcast

When I knew he was the one

That’s when I knew he was the one

We had been silent for 2 hours after a discussion

when I mentioned: “well if you don’t know how to fix it and I can’t, we’re fucked”

to which he responded with: “what do we do now then?”

I smiled, holding in laughter and bursted.

He responded the same way

We both mentioned “this is so stupid”

to which he followed with “I love you”

It wasn’t the first time he had said it

but it meant more than I was used to.

 

-Original photograph

Happiness

Happiness 

Happiness (noun)

Good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy.

Bliss, contentment, delight, joy, euphoria, exhilaration, glee, laughter, optimism, prosperity, content, delirium

Everything I hope you experience soon.

Don’t base your happiness on factors that you cannot control. Fall in love with places and things you can turn to. Things that will always be there. Don’t rely on people because once they lack, so does your happiness.

I’m in love with simple things. Cigarettes in summer, a cup of black coffee, walks around the city, good conversations, music in the car, crying of happiness, reading, writing, thinking, the sun and warm nights.

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I am happy because I know what makes me feel that way.

“You know what I always thought?”,  someone who once hurt me asked.

“I always thought. And I still think this to this day. Ever since you told me about all of your problems and your environment and friends. I always thought/knew. When high school was over, you probably would be the happiest out of all of us.”

“Us being…?” I wondered why, someone who temporarily ruined my happiness, felt the need to have a say in the way it worked.

“Like everyone I know and you know. Just every mutual friend or mutual people we know. Because you know what you want and what will make you happy. And once you get out of this environment, no one will treat you the way people have treated you here. You probably will be treated like a queen compared to here.

I’m being serious. You’re extremely nice and social, once you go to college people will be the same way towards you that you are to them. You will probably have so many friends and have a loving boyfriend. I honestly think you will have no drama here in a couple of years.”

We have created insignificant issues in order to feel like the level of happiness potential we are surrounded with cannot be reached. We have always being taught the manner of perfection never being fully determined. There is always room for improvement. Therefore, we focus on strategical ‘issues’ such as stride or lack of materialistic ‘value’. We need to feel as ought this isn’t it. If only we knew how much we would miss this. We would never call it ‘it’ then.

Just like we are granted with endless, minor improvements, the numerous consequences capable of pulling us from the previously mentioned chances. Stop basing your happiness in future perspectives and events.

Money is often linked to happiness. However, I always viewed happiness as a person working for what they want. I saw happened in people who had what I wanted: freedom and a minimalistic yet full lifestyle where everything counted.

People associate money to happiness due to the feeling of security and safety it provides. It stabilises your priorities. Because we have become so empty, to the point where paying the rent and buying a pair of shoes are not tasks worthy of work anymore but everything we base our happiness on.

Some are bumps we can’t be satisfied without skipping. Some are things we use as excuses. We mention our lack of common factors as an exploration of our law of fulfilment.  You shouldn’t forget how good something is in your life due to other negative things surrounding it.

We will never be happy if we wait for everything to be perfect. We will be happy when we realise the importance of a single opportunity, act, or situation on its own. Don’t stop enjoying it by focussing on what isn’t right.

If you are happy with your holiday, don’t ruin it by consuming yourself with the negative factors such as stress from work. Because they shouldn’t affect each other.

If you can’t be happy until you get a specific result: you are not happy.

If you’re not happy with what you have now: you are not happy.

If you don’t enjoy a cup of coffee and feel like you are where you want to be: you are not happy.

And that’s okay. Change whatever isn’t right. Admit this isn’t where you want to be and change it. But don’t try to convince yourself or pretend you are superficially content and think that buying something will make you happier. Because in often cases, the way to happiness isn’t addition but change.

Something is usually holding you back rather than letting you grow within yourself. And adding to your life will not get rid of that negative factor or its strength to hold you back.

-Another chapter I will keep adding on to.

Global and Vocal

Acceptance and Moving on

 

via Daily Prompt: Acceptance

I don’t think you ever stop loving someone after you fall in love with their entire being. It’s just another kind of love. I think you just stop feeling pain when you think about them. And moving on means smiling when they come to mind because of the memories. It turns into caring. I think that’s why people are afraid of using the term ‘love’ when they fall in love. Because they’re afraid of the idea that they will never stop loving them. It just becomes a mature kind of love. One where you don’t need them but you wish them the best and hope they’ll still be some kind of part of your life. Even if it is at temporary periods. But you still love their being. Because you got to know them in a way that is so personal and affectionate that it becomes part of the way you love other people and yourself. And you start falling in love with yourself more than them. That’s when you continue living, knowing that they are no longer with you, but knowing you might have a stronger sense of the word love for someone yet to come.