This constant search of you... is draining me. I've seen what seems all the shades of gray that this planet could have unfolded to me. Men from different colors, shapes, careers, origins, ages...
It is exhausting just to remember them.
I feel trapped, for the first time, I feel how their memories dance around me in a sort of cannibal ritual where they will open my chest, grab my heart, and feist on it... Leaving me there, on the floor, bleeding out my soul until I eventually --finally-- die.
I never thought that I would reach this point in my life. It feels like a low point. I want to cry every couple of hours, for no good reason. Somehow, crying makes me remember that I am alive. Crying helps me remember that I indeed still have feelings left inside. I am not dead.
But I feel like that, somedays. Dead.
And do not get me wrong. I do a lot of stuff every day. Days where my crying minutes are the only space I have to remember that I am more than my working-productive-somehow successful persona. I feel that I have had this mask for a decade. The mask of a person that is well put together. No wonder why so many countries have offered to pay for my brains and courage. I know how to appear to be fine when needed.
Recently I have had to appear more often than I want to.
I remember to have felt this way in many countries. It is so clear how this sorrow has come a long way right now as if it was my shadow or my best and only friend. Sorrow is perhaps all the truth I have.
I cannot express how sharp and clear is this pain, a pain that I've learned to live with. It is so clear that I embrace it, I accept it. I guess this is life because it has been my reality for 8 years. There has not been any change, only glimpses of what I thought I would have found by now. And I understand I cherish so much those brief moments that I have shared with men (all different men) because that is all I have. I conclude that I fall in love so quickly because I have been holding all of it in for so long that I have to have little explosions to continue living without imploding.
And there I go, exploiting every month or two... believing that I have found you to soon discover that I was wrong.
I am always wrong.
Every time I see the scenario unfolding again, the same words, the same eyes, the same sharp feeling of rejection and indifference. Even when they say that they are sorry. Even when they say that they do not want to lose me (as a friend). Even when they say that I am one of the most amazing women that they have met.
I am not enough.
Never enough.
Never the one.
Never special (truly special).
Nothing. I am nothing. A bunch of diplomas and countries, a bunch of letters and implosions, a bunch of nothing.
I thought that if I lost weight I would increase my chances. Today, I know that not even looking gorgeous a man would choose me.
I thought that if I traveled the world I would be more interesting. Today, I know that interesting could be threatening.
I thought that if I had a Ph.D. I would be respected and admired. Today, I know that it could be intimidating. I know that this is exactly what pulls me out of the pool of what men want.
I thought that if I loved myself and believed in my convictions I would be loved. Now, I know that this is exactly why I am not.
I thought wrong and I do feel that it is too late to change anything. There is nothing more than precisely me. And I will have to fall in love forever with myself. I do love who I am. I truly believe that I am the most wonderful person I have ever met. So brave, so honest, so sincere... so eager to make this a better world. I love myself because I know everything I have done. All those places I went, all those trains, plains, buses, boats... All those sleepless nights. All those letters. All those kids. All those friends.
And I am crying because I know that I deserve better. I am drifting because I have realized that better doesn't exist. It is only me.
So... I give up on you. At least today. I give up on finding you and waiting for you. It's been enough.
I want shades of rainbows because I am colorful and full of life.
Do not come back to turn me gray again.
For my love is colorful and truthful and does not belong to you anymore, for you will never appreciate what you do not understand.
I am ready to be free at last.
Goodbye men. Hello Lau.
