We share no stories, just something in your eyes

 No, la verdad es que es complicado perder la esperanza cuando veo las fotos. Cuando recuerdo tus palabras. Cuando sueño con tus besos. Se han quedado demasiadas cosas por decir y tú no eres como él, no lo tienes tan claro, me quieres en tu vida y no me hablas ahora por miedo a una reacción peor, lo puedo entender. Pero te equivocaste y a sabiendas de que me arrepentiré, tengo claro que en el momento en que te vuelva a ver todo me va a dar igual. No creo que mi orgullo sea tan fuerte, nunca lo ha sido y te echo demasiado de menos. 

Así que no creo que vayas a bloquearme en instagram y en wasap y aunque lo hicieras de poco te serviría, solo tienes que aclararte. Pararte a pensar y entender qué es lo que quieres. Y si lo que quieres no me incumbe a mí pues podré vivir con ello, podré pasar página y quererte de otra forma pero dependo enteramente de ti y eso me saca de quicio. Te quiero como me gustaría que me quisieras a mí y me molesta terriblemente. Pero está claro que tú también sientes algo y no me quiero arriesgar a dilapidarlo bajo capas de rencor pero no sé qué hacer al respecto tampoco. No sé cómo avivarlo cuando el murmullo constante de los demás está tan cerca. 

Daruvar is home. Pero no lo es para mí, nunca llegó a serlo, no cuando tú no estabas. Pero sí fue donde nos conocimos, donde nos tocamos, donde hablamos y donde conectamos a un nivel un poco extraño pero especial en cualquier caso. Daruvar is not home. You are home in Daruvar y probablemente por eso me molestaba tantísimo que no estuvieras cerca. No era por una cuestión de celos (que también, todo hay que decirlo) sino porque me sentía segura cuando compartíamos el mismo espacio. En un lugar tan extraño te sentí cerca desde el primer momento. No físicamente pero sí hubo una complicidad rara entre nosotros. Estar cerca de ti era seguro, reconfortante, mágico. Y estoy bastante segura de que eso no va a cambiar por mucho que ahora quiera tirarte por un barranco.

Solo me queda esperar. Al lunes, al avión, al bus, al otro bus. No quiero estar en Zagreb si tú no estás conmigo. ¿Para qué? ¿De qué me sirve hacer turismo sola si no puedo comentar las cosas después? Ya comprobé en Oslo que no se me da bien ver cosas por mi cuenta y menos cuando solo me serviría para no dejar de pensar en ti. Así que lo intentaré y veré si las ganas de pegarte superan a las de besarte si es que no estás dormido para cuando llegue.

Pero me atrevo a contarte que yo no quiero ser tu amiga

 What's the point on writing to you anymore? What's the point on trying to make you feel something? I don't want to write, I don't want to care, I don't want to love you. But I needed it. Like a drug, like chocolate, I am always, constantly looking for love everywhere I go. I am an oxytocin yonki, I have always been. And you were the perfect candidate, of course, so handsome, so mysterious, so quiet. So in love in the end, so far away from me that by trying to reach you I have fallen from a considerable height. And it's not like it has been the worst because it hasn't, Julio left me way more broken than you, not to mention Miguel but it's true that I didn't expect it to be as bad as it has been. I didn't think I had it in me to love so deep in such a short time. You should feel flattered, I suppose, but I'm afraid you don't really care that much, why should you?

Now I can't help but wonder about the volunteering. Something inside me screams that I should cancel it, it's not worth it, you are too much and to deal with you and have to work with you in so many things and not be able to feel close to you in any way is gonna break me definitely, I won't even have someone to lean on if I need to like last month. But I'm a hopeless optimistic and I haven't lost all hope. It's stupid to think you can change, not because you can't but because you don't want to and lately I have been embracing change every time I see it, just in case I find something more interesting. But I have been in your shoes and I can understand the fear. Still, it's weird someone like you doesn't like changes. You have been living abroad I don't know how many times, you are a volunteer, how can you not like it? You don't consider those changes? I don't know, I have to stop trying to understand you, it's bad for my mental health and probably for my physical health too, since this morning I have a fucking tic in the eye and I'm suspicious it has something to do with all this absurd situation.

I said we don't have anything left to say but I know for sure that's not entirely true, at least from my part. You see, I'm always writing, taking out all I think so it won't suffocate me. I don't know if you have anything else to say, you never really said anything important to me, why would this time be any different? But I don't know, I like to hang to a burning nail and think that maybe you would like to say something else. Maybe you take my advice into account (uf, how it hurted to say it out loud) and you tell her and she says she doesn't want you and then you would be free to move on. I wish.

I can't do the project life now, you are in too many photos, I have to write so many things about you and I don't want the memories to be spoiled by how I'm feeling right now. I feel horrible. Empty. Like a void. I feel like the only thing I wanna do is to spend all my savings to go to your place and hug you and take care of you if you're sick. I want to meet someone interesting tonight, some engineer from Juanma's group that can make me forget about you for a couple of hours. I want to have sex but I know I can't do it if I have just met the person. I want to have sex with you. I want to make you feel the most special person in the world. I want to make you happy. So much for my pride, huh?

And I don't know what to do about Zagreb. I feel the most logical thing to do would be to stay one night either at Victor's o in some hostel in Zagreb and go to Daruvar as soon as possible on the 28th. Yes, I suppose Daruvar is home, home is safe and I want to be there before you arrive. I don't know why but I want to be there as soon as possible. Maybe even I can try to take the last bus on the 27th. A bit tight, yes, but it could work. I don't know if it's because I can do better than you and if you want so bad to go to Daruvar I can be there before or because since I'm not going to see you in Zagreb I want to see you there as soon as possible.

Déjame que te cierre esta noche los ojos y mañana vendré con un cigarro a la cama

 All of the sudden everything is fine, everything is perfect...

No, hoy no tengo ganas de escribirte en inglés, hoy no estoy tan enfadada como para esforzarme en que me entiendas sin tener un traductor a mano pero tampoco estoy tan bien como para no querer escribir. La conversación de ayer me dejó traspuesta a muchos niveles. Quería imaginar cómo estarías en tu casa, si simplemente estabas siguiendo con tu vida mientras me respondías o, como yo, estuviste a punto de echarte a llorar. Opté por la primera opción, tiendo a creer que la gente es un trozo de piedra sin sentimientos cuando no los estoy viendo y así alimento mi sentimiento de soledad en el mundo, no vaya a ser que no sea lo suficientemente grande ya de por sí.

Aun así y pese a todo tengo la sensación de que por primera vez conseguí moverte algo en las entrañas, conseguí que te dieras cuenta de lo que estaba pasando a tu alrededor. ¿De qué me sirve que me digas que pensaste en hablarme si no lo hiciste? De buenas intenciones está el mundo lleno, de buenas acciones no tanto. Pero lo peor de todo es que en el fondo sí me sirvió. Me da asco caer tan bajo, caer en el pozo más profundo de falta de dignidad por ti pero solo con esas palabras todo el enfado que llevaba gestando dos días se deshizo. Bueno, con eso y con que me dijeras que no me querías fuera de tu vida. Es que hay que tener poca autoestima, al menos ya soy capaz de darme cuenta aunque no haga nada por evitarlo. Y confío en que merezca la pena toda esta mierda, confío en que las cosas cambien este mes y que seamos capaces de construir algo juntos, ya lo de pasarlo bien no cuela, pero todo va a depender de lo que digas mañana y me da muchísimo miedo preguntarte. Aterrada me hallo, quién lo iba a decir. Porque no sabes lo que quieres pero yo tengo la sensación de que en el fondo sí lo sabes pero no puedes hacer nada para conseguirlo. Porque querrías estar con ella pero ella no quiere estar contigo y te da pánico buscar fuera de ahí, no te gustan los cambios, ¿no? ¿Y dónde quedo yo en toda esta ecuación? Probablemente fuera, muy a mi pesar.

Me gustaría ser capaz de enamorarte, probablemente si me dejaras lo conseguiría, soy adorable cuando quiero y creo que tenemos más cosas en común de lo que puede parecer en un primer momento pero supongo que es mucho más cómodo anclarse en la angustia conocida del amor no correspondido a plantearte siquiera tener algo mínimamente serio, hablado, consensuado conmigo, con lo bien que se me da ser el hombro sobre el que llorar. No puedo hacer mucho más que esperar a mañana y quejarme, que también se me da de maravilla.

He preguntado. No creía que necesitaras tanto tiempo en cualquier caso y por una vez estaba en lo cierto, aunque he de admitir que tu respuesta me ha pillado por sorpresa no, lo siguiente. Creo que anoche tuvimos la primera conversación casi totalmente honesta desde que nos conocimos, pese a que en algunos momentos se sintiera más como un monólogo que como una conversación pero ya casi que me he acostumbrado a que esa sea nuestra dinámica. Al menos me respondiste con algo más que un sí o un no. Quizás por eso me ha sorprendido tanto tu respuesta hoy. Tu excusa de estar cansado, tu excusa de tener que esperarme. De verdad, si no quieres nada más dímelo, si no quieres estar a solas conmigo dímelo, si no te gusto dímelo pero deja de darme verdades a medias. Porque sinceramente no sé qué es peor, que me estés mintiendo y todo sea pues eso, una excusa mala porque en el fondo no quieres pasar cuarenta y ocho horas conmigo a solas o que me estés diciendo la verdad y prefieras estar en Daruvar porque vayas a estar cansado. "Daruvar is home, home is safe". Ojalá, ojalá fueras capaz de darte cuenta de lo que está pasando, de que lucho y pierdo una batalla diaria por dejar de quererte y de preocuparme por ti, de que me he convertido en un ser sin autoestima por tu culpa (no es que tuviera mucha antes pero desde luego ya no me queda) y del daño que me estás haciendo. Sin querer, por supuesto, pero lo estás haciendo.

Pull the trigger

 You told Victor and me your last name meant oak hill so I erased it from your contact and I put a tree and a mountain emoji instead. I don't know why I did it, I just thought for some reason is more special to have your name and some emojis than your full name. It's very stupid, but so it was to buy you a vanilla puding in Lidl or to make extra food almost all the time (and I didn't do it more because I didn't want to deal with Marta) for you or to know that if you just asked me to go to Estonia I would leave it all and go there or to wait for you to decide everything so I can make my life work around you and I still did it.

I'm not going to say you don't deserve it because probably you do but not now, not yet, not after only one month of knowing each other. But I still do it, you see? I have a saviour complex big as a castle and I really believed for once I was able to like someone that doesn't need to be "saved", that doesn't have a lot of issues. But fuck me and my sight, how could I be so wrong? The problem is you don't really want to be saved, I think. You make fun of everything and are sad on your own, at least that's the picture you give to the world. Maybe you let someone in, how can I know when I'm not the chosen one? So, in the end, because of you I'm gonna be the one who needs saving and I'm pretty sure you're not going to be there if I need you to.

Since I have a smartphone I have always turned off the wifi when I go to sleep. At first I did it to save battery, I couldn't charge the phone while I was in my bed, you know, bunk bed stuff. Then I did it because of the light, the freaking led that lights up every time someone writes you and I was in a lot of wasap groups at the time. More recently I got used to have the phone in vibrating mode instead of silence so I did it for the sound because when it vibrates it sounds so bad and it's horrible. But guess what? Since I came back I don't turn the wifi off, I leave it on and put the phone under my pillow just in case you want to talk to me at four in the morning. For now the only thing I achieved is to have a very early morning because of Facebook fucking notifications.

I know I have a problem and I know it's not your fault that you don't feel the same way about me. It's okay. I never counted on you even liking me but you keep saying these things and then not doing anything about it. You better than anyone should know how anxiety works and maybe this is not a trigger for you but it is for me and a very, very big one. It's true, I don't bite my finger's skin but I drink and I write and I think, I think too much and then I can't sleep and I think more and I just can't do anything else during the whole day. Do you remember when you told me that straight men the moment they met a girl think about the children they could have together? I thought about it before you told me it was even a thing. I imagined how it would be to live in a red wooden house in the middle of nowhere with you and I wondered if our children would have blue or brown eyes. Then I remembered I really don't want to have kids but I definitely thought about it way too much. 

I just wait for you to talk to me. You said you wanted to know me more, for fuck's sake, ask me something. I want to know you more, tell me about your day, what did you do apart from watching Futurama. I want to know. I'm not going to speak to you again, at least I'm not going to start a conversation, it's tedious to feel over and over that you don't really want to talk to me. 

Like I said, it's okay. We could have spent a couple of very fun nights in Zagreb together but apart from that nothing's gonna be that different.

Kurat, ma armastan sind

 But you see? I keep coming back to you and I drink and spend way too much money in here and no, it's not because I want to remember. It's because I need anesthesia. Something that helps forgetting about this fucking frustrating feeling about you. It's not working that well though, I keep checking my phone during the whole night hoping that you may have texted me something. I hate you. And this time is real, I don't think you realised that I was telling the exact opposite but not this time. I hate you for making me love you. You could have stopped it if you didn't want anything else. I almost begged you to stop. But you didn't and I was a fool believing I could crush your walls. And no one can say I didn't try. With all I had. So much and after so many sad stories about last year now I don't have anything left inside except a very big black hole. Congratulations, you are the last but not least person to break my heart, join the club. It's a special award, you didn't even had to say anything, I made it all up in my head.

I was fine the first day of the volunteering. I had a very good time, we went to the castle and we ate burek and I met Marta and Victor and we all had dinner together and I didn't understand a game we did about writing down a song we liked and then Gigi put all the songs in Spotify and we had to guess whose song it was. I put "Mediterráneo" so you can imagine how difficult it was to guess, especially when Marta put "Dancing Queen". Anyway, I was happy. Cold during the nights but happy, I don't think I even drank that night. But you came. I wasn't feeling that social in the evening while we were cleaning so I just saw the blurry figure that was you eating and I decided you weren't that important. How wrong I was, apparently. I finished mopping or whatever and I thought it was time for me to introduce, I didn't want to be too rude either. And then I saw you, I really saw you. Do you know there's a japanese expression for what happened to me? Koi no yokan. The premonition of love. The sensation when meeting someone that it's going to be impossible not to fall in love with them. So I shook hands with you, I forgot your name and I stood there trying to find any topic we could talk about. I just wanted to know you, to talk to you, to listen to everything you could say, but I didn't so I panicked and told Marta how handsome you were. She didn't agree, what a shame. 

The rest is history, I suppose. All the drinks, the never have I ever, the bold moves, the youtube videos, the personality types (I still can't believe we both are the same), Victor's questions just to find out we both want to go to Japan, the "what's for dinner?" and how I had to make a very big effort not to laugh every time you said it, all the times you decided you have had enough of me and just disappeared, the "I hate you" that meant everything except I hate you, the late shifts just to be with you watching you play, the kisses, the spa, the lake, the park, me willing to go with you to have lunch and you just making me think you were doing me a favour for letting me go with you. The date that wasn't a date. Your look, my "what?" and your "nothing" full of something you never told me. Your lack of questions about my life (but a very intense "who's Sebas?" that caught Marta and me by surprise one night). My excessive number of questions just to find out you are in love with someone else. Nothing mattered after that and I hate myself for it, for staying there after all, you should have said something more, you should have stopped everything, I can't believe you didn't see what was happening, I tried so hard to stop it... but I drank and I told myself I was going to be there only for one month, what could go wrong? Nothing that bad can happen in one month. I wasn't going to be able to fall in love with you in one month, I mean, I have always been a fucking romantic but I'm also a very rational person, I could control it. Yeah, I guess I didn't count on the alcohol and the small details. On you touching my arm when you saw I was desperate for contact and I know how hard it was for you to see it. On you saying yes to my plans. On you eating strawberries from my hand. And sweet potatoes. And burek. On you telling me I'm smart (and I think you actually believe it). On you making me (and only me, I know Marta was collateral damage) dinner. On you looking at me from the other corner of the room and your fucking smile.

So yeah, I fell in love with you only knowing a very small percentage of who you are and I don't know what to do about it. I try to get to you the only way I know, I have always been a better writer than speaker but it's impossible to have a proper conversation with you in any way. I'm tired, I'm really tired and I don't want to spend another four weeks like this just to see you go back to Estonia at the end of the month knowing I'm not going to see you again. I don't think I'm strong enough for this after all that happened last year and I really don't want to cry my heart out again over a guy.

I don't know why I'm writing in English, I'm not going to show you this. Oh well, it's good for practicing.

Toxic patterns

29/01

Probablemente si lo entendiera no me dolería tanto. Probablemente si me explicaras los términos podría haberme adaptado pero no sé qué quieres de mí. Estoy cansada de mirarte, de admirarte, de esperar tu mirada de vuelta. No entiendo por qué me estás haciendo esto, no entiendo si así es como se supone que es todo el mundo y yo voy a contracorriente, ¿qué te he hecho para merecer semejante... No desprecio, pero sí condescendencia? Me gustaría saber quién eres, cómo eres cuando no estás borracho, ¿eres capaz siquiera de mostrar algo de cariño cuando no tienes alcohol en las venas? Sí, me abrazaste en el spa, me buscaste, me miraste y me desnudaste con la mirada. Hablaste de fast and furious solo para que te besara, ¿qué cambia de un día para otro?

Todo para nada. Debería decirlo como si fuera un mantra, a ver si así me lo creo. Puedo parar esto. Puedo parar esto. Pero no, me siento, bebo, pongo música y paso frío intentando llamar tu atención cuando solo estas viendo los Simpsons. Sólo para llamar tu maldita atención, para que bajes, me digas que lo sientes, que vas a cogerme de la mano cuando vayamos a impress, vas a entrelazar tus piernas con las mías debajo de la mesa, vas a tocarme las tetas en condiciones y vas a quererme durante las dos semanas que nos quedan aquí. Pero no lo harás. Esperar algo de los demás es un arma de doble filo, al parecer. Así que solo salgo, pongo música y bebo sin llamar tu atención.

 

4/02

No se por que pensé que sería diferente. Que lo entenderías. Me falta poner un cartelito, "solo voy porque tú vas" y de repente me he dado cuenta de lo triste que es, que realmente yo no quería estar ahí, quería estar contigo, me hubiera quedado la noche entera en el restaurante hablando de coches si así podía tenerte para mí sola. Pero tú no has venido conmigo, has hecho un amago, lo sé, quizás incluso te apetecía venir pero el pudor te ha podido una vez más y has elegido el no elegirme a mí. No sé hasta cuándo podré aguantar esto porque sé que una de las razones por las que vas a quedarte soy yo. Lo intuyo, lo huelo. Pero sigue sin ser suficiente y tú no puedes darme lo que quiero. Escucho la lluvia caer y me pregunto si estás bebiendo y pensando que igual podrías estar tirado en el sofá conmigo. Pero qué quieres que te diga, estoy harta de verte mirar el móvil y el orgullo a mí también me puede de vez en cuando. Así que bebo a tu salud, por lo feliz que me has hecho acompañándome a cenar hoy, por el buen rato que hemos pasado y que se va a quedar en eso, un buen rato. No sé qué leches estaba pensando cuando cogí la caja de condones. La frustración es intensa estos días, de eso no hay duda. Y no creo que me compensen tus besos, no a estas alturas.

 

5/02

Está claro que hay algo que no entiendo. Algo que se me ha escapado. Dice Víctor que simplemente eres tímido pero todo el mundo ha visto el chupetón del cuello y aún así ni siquiera bebiste cuando dijeron que si nos habíamos liado con alguien de la habitación. Como para esperar que bebieras cuando dijeron lo de la cita. Pero yo lo entendí como una cita, lo sentí como una cita y el corazón me duele al mirarte. Ya no es lujuria ni admiración, es pura tristeza de saber que no puedo alcanzarte, no puedo perforar tus barreras, no puedo conseguir tu cariño. Espero que hoy conozcas a alguna croata y te líes con ella y dejes de marearme para que pueda seguir con mi vida. O quizás con Eylül, que para eso tienes cierta fijación con las turcas. Me da igual. No se cómo voy a aguantar un mes más así.

 

13/02

¿Qué coño estamos haciendo? La última noche y estás ahí viendo mamma Mia? ¿Pero en qué universo? Tenemos la habitación sola por primera vez en yo qué sé cuánto tiempo y ni se te ocurre intentarlo, ni se te ocurre parecer mínimamente interesado en estar a solas conmigo. Supongo que tampoco estás muy interesado, no sé. Hasta el coño me tienes, de verdad. Si yo solo quiero pasar un rato contigo, un rato nada más, que me digas que me vas a echar de menos aunque no sea verdad, que me digas que me quieres aunque no lo hagas. Tengo muchísimas ganas de llorar y el universo me lo está impidiendo por alguna razón. Así que bebo, me quejo y casi espero estar en Sevilla mañana pero en realidad no porque no quiero echarte aún más de menos.

Waiting for an answer

 Yesterday I met my two best friends at this moment. We went to the Korean place and it was so funny to be there on Valentine's day all surrounded by people in love and there we were the three of us sharing noodles and fried chicken. It was strange to not know who I missed the most of the two of them, given the circumstance that one is my ex-boyfriend and the other was a bit of a big crush until you came into my life and I actually told him the day before leaving for Croatia. I wanted so bad to talk about you but I didn't, I just mentioned that we were planning on doing a podcast if we have the opportunity of coming back and that you studied Mechatronics engineering so you have all the fucking electronic things because of that. It is kind of relieving to really know that I can be friends with Sebas after such a long relationship and I know that eventually I will talk to him about you, about the nights and the real reason why I want so bad to come back. On the other hand, Eduardo is giving me a headache. He told me he didn't want anything with me and I knew that, but seeing him still hurts a bit because of the possibilities. If the reason why he couldn't see me as a romantic interest was that he still sees Sebas and me as one, would it change if I told him about you? Would he be jealous? I don't think so in any case. I still miss you more in two days of not seeing you than what I have missed everyone in here in one month, that must mean something. Yeah, probably that I have a fucking problem. They were very surprised that I wanted to hang out yesterday since it was my first day here. They said after one month without any privacy they for sure would like to be in hermit mode for at least a couple of days before seeing anyone. I laughed. I knew what would happened if I would be left alone for too long. Exactly what's happening today. I can't take my mind off of you. I start overthinking. I feel alone. I miss you. So I'm so happy I'm gonna go to the movies tonight again but I really hope there's not another freaking guy who looks exactly like you in this one. I don't know what to do with the plastic bowl you gave me but it's there, on my desk along with all the things I want to say to you, like how it turns me on just thinking about how you told me to take off my clothes when we slept together and you probably don't even remember because you were too tired, or how I have to control myself to not answer everything you say, even if it's a simple yes or no 'cause I don't want the conversation to be over. But yeah, usually I control and just check on you if you send me an invitation to the trivial thing.

Last weekend

 I don't want to drink anymore. I don't want to smoke. I just want to be with you for these two days and not think about Monday. I want to go to a hotel and sleep with you in a proper bed. I don't need to have sex with you, I just want to connect with you, feel you, kiss your eyelashes. Now I know that I love you so much it hurts and it definitely shouldn't. They said last night that I deserve better but I don't agree. I think I deserve you because I have chosen you, I just deserve a better version of you. Probably I won't be able to get to know this version and that breaks my heart a little but it's fine, this too shall pass. I will delight myself with your presence and your absence of words and your smile and your laughter and the way you look at me sometimes (that look that could break down whole armies) and I'll do my best to not drink just in case you want to talk. I'm gonna miss you so much, you can't even start to imagine how much, maybe because I have been missing you this whole month. It's so creepy, I know, but you illuminate the room when you cross the door and I just want to feel like that moment over and over. But yeah, I'm writing this instead of answering the questions Manda sent us because I can't concentrate anymore. My brain is fucking melted and I had just five hours of sleep and if it weren't because I had to go to the pharmacy probably I would be a bit drunk too. I know you don't love me, of course I know, probably that's why I know that I do. I just don't care. My feelings don't depend on yours, which may be a bit problematic, if I would've seen the signs maybe I wouldn't have fallen so fast and so deep for you. But I couldn't help myself, even though I tried. You ticked every single box with your stupid attitude and your intelligence, with your sad look and your bad jokes, with your puzzles and the kisses on the neck, how could I not fall in love with you? Anyway, it's easier this way I suppose, you upstairs answering questions and me downstairs complaining about you. It's only for two more days.

I can't believe I'm spending the last saturday here all by myself. I can't believe you're not coming down, what the fuck?

If time doesn’t consume us I really hope we could find our way back to each other

Probably writing about you won’t be the best thing to do. It is too recent, you are too close and my heart breaks a bit every time knowing that you will be writing your story about one of your many travels to Turkey. But I come back to you over and over, to your everlasting eyebags, to your commencement of a beard, to your sad eyes. And I would like to write about you because you have been the best thing this volunteering has given me and maybe that could be a good way of making people interested in coming. Because after all it is all about this, isn’t it? Connection. Contact. And maybe I forced it, I can’t deny it, but even though I don’t know how to read people I do have a certain facility to find the ones that are going to be interesting. You looked like one to me from the beginning, even by just looking at your profile picture, that look that could crush whole armies. But it would be wrong to write about you knowing that I have spent these four weeks with ten more people, the world could consider it favoritism (and they wouldn’t be wrong). So I will write about some story that I have told way too many times and I will keep my thoughts to myself, I will try to enjoy what will last of us after this week and if time doesn’t consume us I really hope we could find our way back to each other.

I would say that I just want you to be happy and yes, I wouldn’t be lying but I wouldn’t be telling the whole truth either. I want you to be happy with me, for fuck’s sake. This thing that is happening between us is consuming me way faster than I expected and now there’s no fucking mantra that can help, there’s no “I can stop it” anymore. I can’t. What should I do then? Now I just don’t want to imagine how it would be to say goodbye to you, I suppose that’s why I really want to stay, postponing the inevitable. It’s what I always do.

Sé que te voy a echar de menos cuando vuelva a Sevilla, sé que tendré que buscar excusas para hablarte y también para no hacerlo, para no comerme la cabeza cuando no me llames por wasap porque yo no soy tan importante. Pero dios, qué ganas tengo de poder alejarme de ti, de tu sonrisa, de tu cuerpo que me pone mala y de esos ojos que me atraviesan cada vez que me miran. Nunca pensé que pudiera ser tan doloroso querer a alguien, me pregunto si fue así como Sebas se sintió durante cuatro meses. Pero yo lo intenté, por él, por mí, hice todo lo posible en el universo para dejar de quererlo y aunque me costó sudor, lágrimas, broncas y mucho dinero en el psicólogo lo conseguí. Pero claro, en este caso ella no lo sabe y tú, que parece que vas a menos tres en este aspecto, no le vas a decir nada. ¿Pa qué?, si solo estás enamorado de ella, si solo es tu mejor amiga, si solo... pero intento, de verdad que intento no comerme la cabeza y más ahora que nos quedan tres días mal contados. No quiero sufrir por ti pero te quiero y te adoro y no puedo dejar de pensar en ti, en tocarte, en sentir tu cuerpo cerca del mío y en pasar una noche juntos pero mucho me temo que no va a pasar, al menos no ahora.

Should I stay or should I go?

 Why? Because I'm falling in love with you and you don't even like me. Because you are full of red flags and I really think that we all are at the beginning with our traumas and our walls but the difference is the willing to change and you don't have that. You look so sad all the time, even when you have a smile on your face, you should see yourself when you think no one is watching, and still you don't seem like you want to change that. You keep looking at your phone so you don't miss anything but you're missing so many things around you, you keep showing me pictures and for some reason I think the only reason you're doing it is because you want me to know that you know people, like if your value would depend on how many friends you have (it doesn't). 

 I'm not a jealous person, I was back in the day but I learned that there's no use to it, if someone wants to do something they're gonna do it despite your feelings. But still with you I'm struggling so much to not be that kind of person. We are very alone in this place and I just want to be with you and when you decide, quite often, that you prefere to do anything else something breaks inside me and I just become this jealousy monster that pushes everyone back. Everyone... you. I don't like the person I'm becoming when I'm around you, this is not me, I don't drink, I don't smoke cigarettes, I don't wait for the fucking guys to notice me, if they appreciate me they will and if not, oh well, there are a lot of fishes in the sea. But I cannot help myself, probably you didn't believe me when I told you that you were one of the most beautiful person I've ever met. And probably I lied because I think you are the most beatiful person I have ever met. Boy, oh boy, was I shocked when you kissed me, I felt so special, so priviledged. But anyway, the heat of the moment I suppose.

You keep trying to hide the minimal relationship we have and that hurts me so much, you can't touch me in public, we can't hold hands if there's someone else in the room (oh yes, I noticed how you did it the moment Buket entered the room two nights ago and boy, I wanted to die), you don't really want to be intimate with me and apparently we haven't had a date and was I silly believing that the dinner was kind of a date. My mistake again, I suppose. At least I have stopped following you everywhere. You don't want to know me, Victor knows way more about my life than you because he's genuinely interested and though you have told me so many things I still have the feeling that I don't know you at all, every time I try to talk about something that it's not completely superficial you just block and change the subject and now I'm afraid of asking you anything so I just don't. 

The thing is that I only want to stay here for you and I know you really don't mind if I stay or not so it's best if I come home and deal with my brand new emotional shit without having to see you everyday for another month and you can just carry on with your life.