Monthly Archives: May 2012

why we cry

I’m in one of those self service places full of washing machines, I really need clean clothes. I’m in Florence and I don’t really know why. I ask myself why we cry, why we want to cry? I was supposed to leave yesterday but something was telling me it wasn’t a good time. I’ve been down for the last week without really knowing the reason. anyway, yesterday. I couldn’t get a train in the afternoon so I postponed my departure for the evening, meanwhile I went for a walk with my sister and a friend. I couldn’t really talk, and everything was pissing me off. I had this weight pushing on my head and the muscles of my face were very tense. It’s gravity and unexplained anger, that’s what happens to me when it’s not going well. we went to my friend’s boyfriend apartment, I sat on the sofa, played video games, and it was kind of fun. then I sent a text to Ana saying: I think I’m clinically depressed. she called me back right away and from her voice I could tell she was high, she can’t sleep at night and needs something to keep her active during the day. she says the phase I’m going through is normal. I could feel the tears in the back of my eyes ready to burst. why we cry. why do I need to cry. she told me I shouldn’t give up and I was like, give up what? it’s just emptiness, I’m just a bored person. I hang up and look out the window. what I see is a narrow tunnel with clothes hanging that leads to a very small courtyard. there’s a pink plastic plate full of water in the end and it’s raining inside it, everything is wet. I stare for a couple of minutes and I wish I could take a photograph of this moment. I focus on this image of myself, out the window, as if I’d jumped out of my body and what I’m staring at is actually me. I feel like I’m floating, but not in a good way. I go back inside, get my stuff and give it another try at the train station, but no way. I’m just not meant to leave this city. I stay. I still don’t know why I’m trying so hard to cry. at the station, I get a refund for my ticket and decide right away to spend it all in alcohol. then I think about something I told my sister a few days ago. we were having a pint and out of nowhere I ask her why all our relationships suck and we can’t really get close to people and are always afraid of getting hurt and always find excuses to avoid taking up are lives. we always need breaks, I said, do you realize we are damaged because of what we’ve been through when we grew up? She went blank for a second and said she never thought about it. she seemed a little surprised. that’s the difference between us, I said, I wish I wasn’t so analytic. I go back to myself at the station, not knowing what to do. I realize that there’s nothing to do. and I don’t know why we cry. I start walking in the rain and I don’t mind getting wet. by the time I get to the first bar, I’m soaked. for a while, I’m just not gonna make any decision.

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julian

we met julian in dublin, one night. he was wet the same way stray dogs are wet when they’re lost in the rain. we took him home and he stayed with us for three days. we never left the house during those days. when I say ‘we’ I mean myself and tina. I guess we never went out because all we needed was there. we fell in love with julian. instant love. no-need-to-explain love. we spent most of the time looking at julian and trying to communicate with him in alternative ways. words didn’t work because he spoke no english. julian is (was?) from france. he was confused by the way we kept staring at him but at the same time he seemed to understand that something was going on. in other moments we danced and performed for him, something that he didn’t seem to enjoy rather than being surprised by. as if suddenly he discovered the way a person can be free. we didn’t know what happened to him before but life must have been rough with him. I think that’s why we always felt the urge to tell him that we were his friends. those with julian where strange and happy days. one night something happened, though. it was obvious that we where both sexually attracted to him, but engaging in a three-sum with tina is something I’d never be able to do. that night, julian slept with her and I slept in my room which was next to hers. that was the first and last time I felt jealousy for tina, because she was getting something I wanted. I couldn’t fall asleep because my body kept shaking at the thought of being left out. it was obvious that julian was moving his first steps into his gayness but it was still early for him to sleep with a guy. and my fear of rejection prevented me from making the first move. that’s what it was. it was just for a moment, that night, but it was intense. the strange thing is that above anything else I felt alive and I felt that I was leading the life I wanted to live. even if I couldn’t have him at least I knew what i wanted and I think, in the end, that’s what we were trying to pass on to him those days: that freedom only comes with courage, and even when you have it, you have to fight to keep it. every day of your life. since then, there have been so many times where I felt my ownness was slipping away and had to get it back, whether it took leaving the country, going out for a walk or saying fuck off. he was seeing that, through us, and he was making a decision. he seemed to be saying to us: that’s how I want to live, I understand, there is no other way.┬áif the days with julian come up during a conversation we are always struck by how important it was meeting him, even for such a short time. mirroring us, he reinforced our decisions and made our encounter the most unforgettable exchange. when we talk about him, we always hope it’s the same for him. the thought that he removed us from his memory is saddening but also unlikely.

it’s the last morning, julian really has to go. we put him on a cab headed for I don’t remember where. I can see his long dark hair and his perfect lips behind the glass, his shy hand waving goodbye. we close the door behind us. we both have our robes on. we don’t talk about him much. we make coffee. I can’t remember what we did that day. we never saw him again.

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