De la luz

john | March 9, 2023, 4:20 a.m. Uncategorized

I have to start this with what "De la luz" means.  It means from the light, part of your name.  The first time you told it to me, I couldn't remember it because I was so nervous, I actually forgot your first name, but remembered "from the light".

I feel something when writing this.  I wanted to write the heaviness, but that isn't it.  It disappeared as soon as I tried to place a name to the feeling.  I was trying to think when I knew you.  When I last saw you. 

When I last saw, you had two new tattoos on your wrists.  I was surprised to see you.  I was driving to get a bagel they said was good, a few towns over from where we meet.

Despite the last message you ever sent me, explicitly told me you never wanted to talk to me again.  I asked you how you where, you said good.  You then asked how I was, I said good too.  I then proceeded to throw away the bagel and bag I had just purchased from the place you worked at as soon I left.  Never wanted to see you or even look at a bagel you might of touched.

You changed me.  For better or worse, I don't know.  I don't think I will ever know to be honest.  But I do know, you changed me.

So much so, that I had to search my own blog to see if I had left myself a note of what I was feeling, but I am not even sure I started it when I knew you.  Instead, over the years of posts all I found was memories of other events.  I must of blocked you out.  Not from the writing, as none of those have ever been deleted, but of the thoughts I write about.  That is until now. 

Granted there was Sinnerman, but that wasn't what I was looking for.  It was something I wrote in hopes to rid myself of the feeling of you.  That clearly never went away.  I've always wanted to forgive you, I just couldn't then.

There was nothing in me that wanted to react how I did either.  In a sense, by the heinousness of the act, it gave me peace. Its a weird sort of catharsis, your action of vengeance, neutralized the previous trauma.

The reason I reacted how I did, was two fold.  I was hurt, actually devastated is closer.  I presume  you where hurt, but I still react harshly to the idea that you didn't plan the act that broke me that time, so maybe you weren't hurt.  My sister later would say you didn't even know what you where doing or saying.  I would of ended it simply and let that be the last thing you said to me. But I couldn't.

Delivery confirmation.   Read.  From there, I was slightly at peace.  I still think of you innocently, despite knowing you aren't.  What I could not deal with though, was each time after your delivery confirmation, and any time I ever saw you, thought of you, or even heard of you, I had the exact same feeling after.  Every time.

At first I would be overwhelmed by love.  How could I not be, I loved you.  More than anything I could ever express in words.  But the way in which you delivered the news.  It tarnished the love.  Let me rephrase that, it pulverized it.

You had to ask me if I loved you, and I had to answer yes, for you to tell me the news.  To make sure, I loved you.  Despite that when you asked if I loved you, I flashed back to all of you, and I was so euphoric.  So of course you tied that question to that feeling.  Specifically, I thought of the moment if you asked if I could ever love you. 

It was in that moment, that I never confessed to you, but I think you must of seen my face confused, because you said it in Spanish, and my mind translated it to actually take care of.  So I said no, I didn't want to have to support some one. Didn't realize till we where in the car, that you meant love, not actually being a caregiver.  I tried clarifying it in the car.  Clearly lost in translation.

But it was that moment that floated in my head.  Considering you berated me for days before asking me if I loved you.  You leveled me.  You took my love for you and made me realize how grave my mistakes had been and how much I wanted you more than any mistake I had ever made.

Of course, how could I think of anything else.  You left me trembling, because for a slight second, in the relativeness that is life, I was in bliss with you.  But then that second ended, and you sent what I will always remember you by.

Delivery confirmation.  Read receipt.

To add the nail to the coffin, you had to remind me every time I saw you, that it was not my love you treasured, and it never was, it was his. I was only a temporary distraction, until he loved you.  To paraphrase, "He was finally single", or more painful I guess was the last night we spent together you got a message while we lying on the bed, and without me even asking you who was messaging you, you offered "It isn't him", guess he was on your mind and you where upset he didn't send you a goodnight message.

What's crazy, is in hindsight, when I was in Puebla meandering with you, unbeknownst to me that it was immediately after you where with him, and till we stopped talking.  All you did was talk about him.  Everyday.

Till I got delivery confirmation and then of course the two check marks making sure I read it.  What I don't understand is why the new tattoo was on both arms.  Unless of course I tarnished myself onto the feeling you got when you thought of him or saw him.  But I doubt that, my ego doesn't allow me to believe that I was anything to you, but a stepping stone to get to him. 

What's worse, is the tattoo of the mountains you said you got while we where together was from Colorado, where not.  No mountains in Colorado look like that.  But they do look surprisingly similar to the mountains of where you went to meet him.  I'd go look at the mountains you saw with my own eyes, but I have no desire to relive that, plus I googled them right after you told me they where from Colorado.  I got to see them on your arm every day to remind myself.

What's funny, is shortly after we never spoke again, because how could I, my friend got a dog.  He named him the same name you eloquently made sure I could never forget. 

I'm glad I got to love you, to know how much you loved me not.

I find it curious that I drew you a comic once that you went to the doctor.  I'd go into the details of it, but I guess it was my subconscious knowing the truth and drawing it to you.  Your answer, in retrospect, was an admission at the time that my comic was in fact right.  The doctor did have reason to say you had been getting kissed all over.

I think there was a time you tried calling me after and I picked up.  Might of been months or years later.  I didn't have your number saved anymore.  But when I picked up, you didn't say your name.  You said my roommates name.  Perhaps that was your new nick name, but I didn't recognize the the name with that voice, so I asked if you wanted to leave a message instead.  Later I thought it was you that called, I should of called back.  But I changed numbers since, and lost that number too.

I don't even know why I wrote this.  I guess in the end I just wanted to write it out.  So maybe one day you'll read it.  Although my ego questions why you would ever even spend time thinking about me, let alone reading anything I wrote.  I guess worse case, one day I'll read it.  We're all human in the end and I am sure I was far from perfect.  But damn, I did try to make that perfect.

It's okay though, in the end, like all things in life, they come and go.  Despite the lengthy painful reading of the memory, I feel fine now.  I want to believe you are fine too.  It's only natural for life to continue.  It finds a way.  And who knows, maybe one day our paths will cross again, and we will both be better than good.  We'll be great.  But I doubt it.  Not that we won't be great.  That would be a tragedy if that was not the case, but what is more likely, is that you forgot about me the second he said yes.  And that causes me happiness, since then it was all worth it, because all I really wanted was your happiness.

And believe it or not, I ended up alright.  In fact, I discovered happiness. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, I smile knowing I don't know what it is.  But, I am sure living it, because I'm happy.

Hakuna matata