It is official: I don’t like the months of May, June, July, August and October. In fact, I am not fond of all of 2012. I don’t know how 365 days can reek of so much crap, disappointment, anger, isolation, separation, lies, and just a tiny bit of love. And of course, that wee bit was overshadowed by nonsense hence rendered futile. But that’s not the point, although it could be.
It’s June already.
June 17th 2012
The day a phone call changed my life. The morning I heard your voice for the very first time. An act of kindness because you found out that I had broken my elbow. You called. I don’t know why, but you did. You didn’t even know me nor had met me yet, but you picked that phone and called. I had disappeared on you “abruptly” the night before, on whatsapp. You sounded concerned and asked if it was serious. I said that I am sorry that on our first encounter I will only have one fully functional arm and I won’t be able to give you one of my famous hugs. We later proved that wrong…
June 21st 2012
I rushed home from work, showered, wore small heels (not sure why I picked that pair in particular, I don’t like it much and I very rarely put on heels), a pair of jeans with a shirt of some sort (could’ve been the pink one, but can’t seem to remember anything related to t-shirts lately). I had dark blue nail polish. And I arrived to the airport really early. I was eager to finally meet you and didn’t want you to wait (I’m hospitable that way) in a strange city. I bought a bottle of Perrier while waiting for you, but couldn’t open it. One arm was in a pink cast, remember? So I just carried it and waited. And then I saw you, you smiled and hugged me. I thought you looked short (note to self: never wear heels again on a first “date”). My heart was pounding; I was flustered, for you were finally here. And in all my excitement I let that glass bottle slip and it fell crashing into a thousand small pieces on the arrivals hall floor. I must’ve blushed because you asked if I am ok. I nodded, perplexed. But we left, leaving the shattered glass behind us. Water and all… I took you to dinner, we had entrecote and I asked if you could sit next to me. I then explained to you my theory about dinner dates and how I prefer to sit next to the person and not opposite. You weren’t too convinced but did it anyway. Your friend called but you declined his invite and decided to stay with me. After all, you had traveled all this way just to meet me.
June 23rd 2012
I drove you to the airport and didn’t want to let you go. I wanted you to stay. You would later reproach me for not kissing you goodbye. I felt empty driving back home alone, without you holding my broken arm and kissing my colored fingernails. I knew that I had fallen in love with you 48 hours after meeting you, but I refused to believe it. A real “coup-de-foudre”: my first, and only… so far.
June 30th 2012
One of my first Transcripts. I confessed that I miss you…
I fell for you last June. And sometimes I wish I didn’t. I also wonder why I still write about you, when you are about to commit for life (?) to someone else. My elbow will start remembering soon, I just hope that the rest of my body won’t.
That summer would later prove to be full of ups and downs. I cried, I laughed, I danced in your arms, I was there for you, but most importantly, I loved you more than I knew I could… I truly did. I’m not sure you did though… I guess I’ll never know.