The idiot’s week

As suggested by my very smart sister, this past week will be known and remember as the idiot’s week – the week in what the world was more round than usual. Do you get it? If you don’t get it yet, let me expose the last events.
From here, the very cool living in NYC perspective, I have to say that in this week more happened than in the whole summer. In fact, not only more happened, but also only bad things happened. I had just thought that this summer had been so special to me, so much fun… then, this awful second to last week of August happens like this.
I was being betrayed by someone I had the highest confidence. I pass through the whole grief cycle: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, testing, and acceptance. (Once second thought, I didn’t pass through denial or testing) Of course, I was petting myself. Of course I was feeling as an idiot. But in the end, I found the real idiot J.L.
From there, the very cool living in SP, my sister has to say that even the good guys (or at least we see them like that) are idiots. It seems that the whole progesterone carriers, including M, can’t decide how many girls they need in order to be satisfied. Maybe we should define male necessities.
Maybe, I don’t care. Maybe progesterone carriers are the dumbest, the more complicated and the more primeval creatures we have to live with. M can’t decide if he should hang out with the new distance girlfriend (maybe imaginary) or with the old one, who happens to be quietly being.
You know, maybe the saying that guys can’t do more than one thing is wrong. Or maybe, incomplete. Guys can, indeed, do two girls at the same time. And, again, their “idioticism” worth a week, the idiot’s week.

My statement about you and me

I realized that like this, things are much less complicated. In these terms, this relationship requires me to take far less bs, and I don’t need to deal with your bad humor and hypo. I can watch the cheesiest movies, listen very loudly to Black Eyed Peas and wear my black shining boots. Wake up early, scratch my face and cough once in a while. I can wear red on my lips, play with my hair and hang out on places I have never been in the city, like the stupid Coney Island.
We still talk on the phone about absolutely nothing… we still have dinner, we still “talk, just five minutes” then, take cochilinhos. I still think about you, and I know that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep calling me until I pick it up. Then, we make jokes, then we flirt, then we cook, play poker, then we have fun and then forget that we’re not together anymore.
Are we? It feels good, but is it really? I am confused, and so are others. Even the good and hot feelings seem weird.
Maybe it is because you have said so many times I don’t want you, but I love you; I need to be alone now, but come over; I’m letting you go, but can you be my date at Dave’s wedding?
Or, its just self-protection. My heart has been broken too many times these past two years. Sometimes by you, sometimes by others let by me, sometimes by me, all by myself. So I think my heart, itself, don’t let me get too involved. Because if I have carefree fun, I forget that you and I are just friends.
Instead of carefree fun, I have Cinderella fun (the one that ends at midnight, and she knows it in advance). I go back home with the feeling “it was good”; but the questions “what was this?”, “am I the only one having it?”
I guess your clearness is very blurry and you are either a player, or a weak. You like the fun and security, but you don’t assume it as a relationship. That is just stupid.
I assume that I took too long to finish this statement. I assume that I let myself confused and let things just be. I should have demanded things to be on my terms, but I didn’t because I thought your actions were coming from a complicated mind, but were honest. I was wrong.
Therefore, I am changing the terms. You are not who I think you were. You are just a pathetic, needy guy, who doesn’t know how to love. You do know how to enjoy it, but not how to give it.
You won’t have my love or my friendship any longer, for the simple fact that you were not honest. I would have taken it, the truth. But the truth coming both from words, and actions.
The good thing is, I am not confused anymore. I was honest with my feelings, and that is what it matters.

About Denises and Caroles

It’s a fact. In one person’s friendship circle there are various and varied friends. One has preferences and for each situation, a different company. But some people bring the best on you in about every situation.
That is the case of the friends I would like to call /Denise friends/. These people could be described as the ones who open their hearts to a newly known person, just for the sake of the command love one another. Then, after knowing better that stranger, take care of them and let them be part of their own family.
In these sense, they are very similar to the type of friends that I call /Carole friends/.Both open their hearts and houses to strangers with the aim of help, but /Carole friends/ have many more reserves. However, they do have differences.
If one gets home with very exciting news about one’s career and academic stuff, /Carol friends/ don’t really support the news and perspective decisions, because they would be more difficult and intense. /Denise friends/ though, say the opposite. “They will be intense, indeed, but everything this one (me, the writer) does is intense. She can take it.”
Do you get it? Whoever needs to define the difficulty is the subject (me, again, the writer) who is only asking for incentive.
In another situation, when a /Denise friend/ finds out she has a serious disease, she decides to fight for her life. By fighting I mean with courage and hope (lots of it). She gathers strength to carry on. She trusts in whenever her doctor says, without asking too much. After all, she is not a doctor!! She decides to reserve to herself all the red tape and money wise details and don’t worry anybody; and she looks amazing!!
A /Carol friend/ worries about the billing, the procedures – not even knowing the proper names for those - the recovery, the life after C… She demands to know about everything even though this knowledge won’t solve any of that. Moreover, she forgets to deal with her own business.
If I would categorize the people in my life in only two categories, it would be easy - that is not what happens. You see, friends come into our lives bringing their own marks and history, which will make part of our life too.
We can choose which of those marks we want to perpetuate in ours. In the end of the day, what really counts are the good words you have heard, the ones you can actually smile at.
My /Carole friends/ and /Denise friends/ are actually called Roberta, Christian, Matheus, Claudia, Beatriz, Diogo, Ricardo, Laudia, Paulo, Joseph, Nassin, Patrick…