sad

Amor Eterno.

When I think of home I think of the music of my childhood. The music that blared every weekend morning before starting our day. The songs of Pedro Infante, the harmonies of Steve Wonder, and the tender voice of Juan Gabriel. There isn’t a memory that doesn’t include a song of Juan Gabriel. Every car ride to school and every family gathering. Even a distant memory of being in Mexico and seeing mariachis strumming the first chords of his songs, before belting out the beautifully tragic lyrics. A man with such a vibrancy for life; who captivated the world with his songs of love and heartbreak. We invited this man into our home to remind us of what we have. To remind ourselves to love, to embrace heartbreak but not give into it, and to understand we are never alone.

I can’t help but think of a lifetime of memories that his songs bring. Songs that we’ve all sung at family gatherings, birthday parties, and even sitting in your car thinking of the one person you told yourself you wouldn’t think about. Of all the songs that he has written, Amor Eterno is the one song I can’t help but grab my heart and cry. Crying for lost loves. Crying for people who have passed. Crying for people whom we miss and wish to have one more day with. Another day to say everything we needed to say that we couldn’t say when we needed too. Then the tears start to form at the corner of my eyes as soon as the strings start playing. I hear his voice so clearly. Dedicating the song to every mother, including his own whom he lost long ago. A loss he felt so deeply that her passing is immortalized into this song.

This song reminds me of a family who’s son passed away in route to Acapulco. Forever bringing to light the tears as soon as the line “El mas triste recuerdo de Acapulco” is sung. Of my strongest prima that never lets anything affect her and catching her singing the lyrics softly with tears in her eyes. Her own loss for words and deep profound love within her heart. I think of the countless times my Mami has skipped over this song because it reminds her of my Abuelita, her Mami. How much she misses her and no matter how many postcards and phone calls she makes, it is never the same as seeing her face to face. How I have seen her sing the same words over and over, and trying to hold back her own tears.

I can’t help but think of the the last time I saw my Abuelito. Looking out from his favorite window over looking the street below.  Then later holding his hand at the hospital in Mexico City and knowing this would be the last time. I feel myself breathe a little harder. This deep feeling in my chest as my heart begins to break. I think of my Tia who recently passed and a memory of her in her home filled with warmth and love. A home filled with all her relics and accomplishments. Every conversation I had with them, forever remembered and returning through this song. I think to myself, I should have tried harder to keep in touch. Let me have one more day to make amends.

Yo he sufrido tanto por tu ausencia,
Desde ese dia hasta hoy, no soy feliz.
Y aunque tengo tranquila mi consciencia,
Se que pude haber yo hecho mas por ti.

I sit in disbelief that a song with the simplest words and such a powerful melody could fill the spaces of your veins and tug at the heart. How no matter how many times you hear a song after that, this song will forever haunt you with memory. With a feeling of nostalgia and your only response is to think back at that memory. No matter how many times you want to stop the tears from forming, you can’t help yourself.

I hold myself tighter. Refusing to give into the song, even though I am watching as my surroundings become blurry. Slowly I lean into the melody. Into the words that I have found myself repeating before the next line. This aching lump in my throat when I try to sing. This pain. This sadness. This memory I have tried to forget. I sing louder as if these spirits could hear me. As if they held my hand and sang a long with me. This song overtakes all my emotions and I watch as one by one the tears start to fall. It’s been a long time since I have cried like this. A long time that I let this heartbreak be a reminder of how much I am missing. Because I miss them. With every inch of my heart that beats to the words of this song.

Its only until you have lived through the words of his songs, that JuanGa opens his arms out to you. And like a familiar friend, you outstretched your arms to this man. Taking comfort in his words, and sing a long to the melody. Forever I will be grateful for this man. Who opened his heart to the world and allowed us to take a part of his journey.

Even after the song plays out, I still cry out for one more day. I scream out how much I am hurting and missing, until my cheeks hurt from sobbing. Its been minutes since the song has stopped playing. I slowly start collecting myself and watch as I wipe away my tears and pick up the remaining pieces of my heart. Thank you, Juan Gabriel. Thank you for these cherished memories and for always feeling like home.

Obligo a que te olvide el pensamiento,
Pues siempre estoy pensando en el ayer.
Prefiero estar dormida que despierta
De tanto que me duele que no estes.

 

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Vindictive.

vin·dic·tive: having or showing a strong or unreasoning desire for revenge.

The other day a good friend of mine called me “Vindictive”, over a situation that was beyond my control. To sound vague, I am just going to state the situation is not that important. Truth is I never truly stated what really happened. Nor, am I going to start. Some battles are just easier to let go and others were just not a battle to begin with. It’s human nature to crave the drama, to love the dramatics of people’s actions. If we are being truly honest with ourselves, sometimes people are not meant to be friends. Instead of finding myself and putting myself in a position of being immature, I just refused to say anything. I could have just let the word go. Brush it out of my mind, but being who I am I haven’t. I find myself repeating the word and asking myself if I really am being vindictive.

I am not trying to draw attention to any particular situation. Life is crazy sometimes and people will always make their own assumption of things. There are some moments in my life I wish I could be vindictive. I wish I could be really mean and say everything I feel inside. I could spew out the same hate and mistreatment that others have thrown on me. None of which would make me feel any better. I could be really mean if I wanted to be. I could act out every dramatic scenario known to mankind, but I wouldn’t. I could be upset about various things that go on in my life or I can just take everything with a grain of salt. Even by saying nothing, I still come out like a villain. Childish, immature, and of course vindictive.

In the course of a few months, my life has changed. With life changes come friendship changes. I don’t blame anyone. As much as I would like to be angry, no one is to blame. Life happens and no matter how much you want to escape it, its coming toward you full speed ahead. No one tells you that when you’re growing up, your friendships change. In the process of being grown up, you lose people that meant the absolutely world to you. Nothing malicious, nothing mean, just life continues to go on. The truth is sometimes people are meant to be in your life for a limited time and as much as everyone loves a great juicy story, there isn’t one to tell. It hurts to have to come to that realization. Sometimes you grow out of your friendships and sometimes you see friendships for what they truly were. A great time in your life that you needed and sadly have to move on from.

You can’t stop people from believing what they want to believe. As much as you want to you can’t stop people from leaving. Reality is there is nothing left to say. All the dramatics I want to throw out are  just my emotions seeping through. It’s just my sadness trying to make sense of growing out of friendships. People grow up eventually and sometimes you out grow your friendships. Sometimes I want to say everything I feel in my heart, but there really is nothing left to say. I am allowing people to believe what they want to believe.

Maybe I am vindictive. Maybe I am a little hurt and angry. That’s growing up. If you’re not losing friendships, you’re not growing up.

I guess this is growing up.

 

9/6/15 – Day Twenty.

I gave myself a break. Where I didn’t think about anything with the exception of what is in front of me. Something simple. Something sweet, anything to occupy my time away from these thoughts. How do you explain that one day you woke up hating everyone and their existence? That words from everyone close to you, make you shudder and shut down. Or that you can’t explain this need to be alone but you need to be. Why can’t words match what you feel in your heart?

People already think I am crazy, what’s more insanity with a little more misunderstanding. I don’t blame them for thinking that way, they’re only thinking what they can’t understand. I feel so misunderstood lately, that no one really understands me.  Not that it matters. I just don’t feel like painting my face like everyone else, when its not how I feel. I can’t force a smile when those are not the feelings I feel inside. Explaining yourself when you’ve run out of words to say. Its easier to talk about the weather, than say exactly whats wrong.

Half of the time I am not even sure whats wrong, and I am not sure I even want to say how I feel. But today I moved back from those feelings and washed those feelings right out of me. After a few days of living in my filth and not wanting to release these feelings, I am ready to start. Clean, brand new. Find new dreams and polish off the old dreams. Everything else just give it time to regroup itself. Through marathons of old shows and starting over with new shows. I watch what I love and what I fear, keep time with itself. Slowly coming in, side by side. I know I can’t hide from the world. I know I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. What I love and what I fear, will eventually walk side by side. Its then that I’ll admit that this pure fear is knowing that being alone is my burden and my strength. Every day I get closer to overshadowing my fears. I feel myself getting stronger. I feel myself getting better.  But everyone thinks I am crazy. That I have always been the crazy one.

It’s just hard to make someone understand, what they’ll never understand at all.

8/22/2015 – Day Eleven.

I haven’t had much time to spend alone. Which in a way can be okay, but in honor of this experiment I should be alone. Alone with my thoughts, alone with my worries, alone with my struggles. At the current time I can’t do things alone but I find myself learning to do everything alone. A few nights ago I couldn’t wait to come home. Sleep in my own bed, go back to my life. Back to my routine and what not. I had this fear of leaving my home that paralyzed my thoughts. I cried for no reason and felt this petrified feeling that everyone I loved was further and further away from me.

When you’re depressed, this dark cloud looms over you. It doesn’t matter how  many times you change your attitude or how much you try to feel better, nothing works. Before I left, something snapped. I couldn’t point a finger at the exact moment, but something happened and my heart broke. I carry things with me from the past that trail ahead into my present. I could point the finger at many culprits of my problems, but the longer the finger points the more I realize the 3 fingers that point back at me. Maybe I was always the weight of my own problems. Maybe I was the one that caused all this unhappiness. Maybe in the end I deserved all this sadness and unhappiness. I hadn’t felt like a good person in a long time. I knew I was selfish, I knew I was a hurtful person, I just didn’t know how much longer I could keep going. When someone tells you what a bad person you are, you start believing it. It infects your bloodstream and seeps deep into your bones, this negativity and paranoia that no matter how much you change, you’ll always feel the same.

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It’s all in my head. All in my head to believe those things. Some part of myself believes that all the goodness that I once had inside of me, left a long time ago. Instead I am left with a walking corpse that cynical ways infects negativity to everyone. I believe I am bad luck. Anything bad that happens to anyone, I believe I am the cause of it. Deep inside I do believe that people are better off without me. Its one of the reasons why I retreat to my shell so often. It’s why I hide from the world, its why I have wanted to spend this time alone. Because a world without me, is a better place for everyone. I know people will read this and think I have absolutely gone mental (or maybe believe that I am right). I painted this picture of my life and built it around so many good people, but once I feel I have hurt enough people, I paint myself out of the portrait. My mouth and my bullshit juvenile ways have found a way to alienate people. When I try to reverse the damage, people mistake my kindness for weakness and walk all over me. I can’t win either way. I can’t keep running away from my problems. I can’t keep pretending that my worries don’t keep me awake at night. I can’t keep allowing the errors of my past mistakes continue to haunt me. I know I can be good, I know I can be a good person.

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I thought about coming home. People I miss, people who don’t really have a clue about whats is going on, which made me yearn to go home. Figure everything all out. Then I wished to pack my bags and run far away back into my hometown. Deep into the dead center. Then I came to the realization that being home would only flood back memories. I am not okay. I am not better but being lost in a city filled with so many people feels better than feeling hopelessly lost. I don’t know where I am going. I don’t know what I am doing and as the days inch closer to being home, I realized how much I don’t want to be home. It rains so heavily here. It rains so often that all I want to do is reach my hand out of windows and feel the rain against my skin. Feel comfort from the feeling of running away. I could lay in bed until the clouds come back to haunt my skin and push away the sun. The lighting illuminates the sky white from the black. Crying out streams of light that guides us to a better way of feeling. It screams mimic my heart beat and I just want to be alone. I don’t have the straight to come back home. I don’t have the energy to pretend that my skin doesn’t hurt. I could lie in this bed forever. Staring at the clouds that come in. Staring at the familiar walls and tiles. All the comforting scents of this city.

I am not ready to go home, because at this moment I feel at home.