"At the same time, I knew with absolute certainty that I would never ask someone to abandon her beliefs, her traditions, or disappoint her family for the sake of being with someone as different as I am."
About a year ago, I met a group of friends and eventually joined their trivia team. Trivia nights are one of those activities people genuinely enjoy in places like the city where I live. Every week the host announces a different theme, and people actually show up prepared to answer whatever questions have been put together. It's a lot of fun, and people really do their homework.
I went on Tinder and today I met someone. It’s not a big deal to say it, but experiencing it is different.
Absorbed in the moment, from the taxi conversation to the instant of the encounter, I could not stop experiencing joy. I placed no expectation in my mind, not even the slightest one that she would physically resemble her image, because philosophically speaking, no one is truly their image.
On January 2nd, 2012, after a shitty New Year’s Eve, in one of the worst stress crises of my life, I arrived at the office to receive the notification that, as of that very day, I was no longer part of the company. That day they didn’t just fire me; that day forced me to decide who I was going to become once I ran out of excuses. The owner didn’t face me because there was this air that I had gone off the rails. A 27-year-old kid against a couple of sons of bitches and their excessive love for money over the well-being of their workers.
There are nights you don’t realize will turn into legend until many years later. That was one of them.
—Sorry, guys, we’re closing early.—
We had just ordered a pecera at Barricada, a rock bar in Bucara, on a weekend night back in 2004. They served the cocktail in plastic cups and kicked us out onto the street.
After several months without returning to this corner I created to express myself and share the small life lessons I often learn, today I simply come to say that I faced existentialism for the first time—armed—within a romantic relationship. Not from books, but from the body, pain, and the real possibility of losing what one believes oneself to be.
Do I have anything more to say than what I’ve already said? No. That’s the truth.
When I was 16, I joined the Christian Church, and I stayed for seven years. I managed to read the Bible only three times before I got bored and left. I was judged in a time when not judging wasn’t yet trendy, and the very people I was honest with—the ones I opened up to—were the same ones who decided to exclude me for being a so-called sinner.