alasy

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they are canceling me for the way i deal with grief. also, for the infinite number of destroyed universes

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I went outside to talk to him a little and I saw a shooting star

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"Háblame en español, mi amor. Spanish. Español. Español."

Missing him a lot.

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Missing him a lot.

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greta was time's person of the year a few years ago. she was adored by all liberal world leaders and parties. and when she learnt about people's struggle under occupation and colonialism, she stood in solidarity with them . she now stands with palestine and armenia and kashmir and every oppressed person in the world. she could have been rich as fuck by simply remaining as a climate activist. yet she chose to do the right thing. i love her for her integrity.

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honestly what the hell are you supposed to do. is my question

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Has anyone else noticed that they do this?

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I don't know how to exist anymore

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Eider telling me about the heavy metal concert that happens every year (? Or from time to time, I'm not sure) in Barranquilla.

"Do you like metal?" He asked. "Heavy metal, I mean."

I had no idea what heavy metal implied, so I said "I don't know. I'm willing to try it though."

"There's this event in Barranquilla next month that's all about heavy metal. Would you like to come?"

"Sure!" I said instantly. "Let's do it. Why not?"

He glanced at me and tried to hide a smile, knowing very well I had no idea what would wait for me there. He started showing me some bands we'd see there, and the more he showed me, the more horrified I became. His smile wasn't hidden anymore.

"These are what?!" I chocked, literally.

"Real human skulls." He replied with a straight face.

"You're joking." I stared at him and at his half smirk.

"I am not." He said, seriously. "Actually, see this one in the middle? I got it for them."

"You what." I didn't even know how to react.

"I was the one who got it for them."

"You violated a grave?"

"Some graves, yes." Still on his nonchalant tone. I'm stunned, still processing the information. "My teenage years were wild." He adds, as if it explained the atrocities he's showed me.

"You can say that." I pause, and, just to make sure I'm not alone in the house of a maniac, I ask "You don't do it anymore, right?"

He finally lets a chuckle out. "No, I don't." I sigh audibly and he laughs again. "There's a place right in front of where we have the shows, that they have salsa nights there and those are on all night long, even after the metal concert." So he starts to tell me how metal heads will end there at the end of the night, all dressed up with make up on and everything, dancing salsa, and how everyone mixes together and I laugh. "We can go there." He mentions. "If you don't feel comfortable on the concert, we can leave and dance salsa all night long instead."

Something stirs inside my chest and I actively ignore it. "But what if I can't stay even for the first song?"

"Then we leave before the first song is finished." He says simply, in a matter of fact.

"But then you'd miss your fun." I reply. "I can go the salsa by myself and we meet up afterwards."

"It doesn't matter." He says almost at the same time. "Of course not. You say the word and we'll be out of there as fast as we got in. We'll be dancing salsa in no time."

I look at him. "Do you even dance salsa?" I ask, and because 1. I don't. But 2, he clearly doesn't either. If I consider myself shy, my man is a hundred times worse. Plus he had just spent the past half an hour telling me about how much he's into rock and heavy metal, so that's not someone I picture dancing salsa in a Saturday night.

"Not at all." He says in that matter-of-fact tone again, he's not even looking at me. As if it's nothing. "But I can do it if it's with you."

"You know, I'm Latina but I cannot dance. At all. Let alone salsa." I remark.

"Neither can I." He responds and now he looks at me. "But we can learn it together."

All of that and we had spent less than a full day together.

Fast forward 3 days later, when we had our first kiss. I still have the concert in mind. I feel guilty because I know it's not my thing and I don't want to lie to him, I don't wanna be someone I'm not to him.

"I need to confess something." I say, middle kiss. It's past midnight, we're on the beach, sitting by the sea. He makes a grunt sound. "I don't think I can go to that concert in Barranquilla. It's not my thing. I think it'll be too much for me, it's way too much out of my comfort zone." I start speaking and justifying myself.

"We don't have to go to the concert." He's smiling and I think I'm going to die. "I told you, we can do the salsa thing."

"But you waited so long for the concert!" I say and squeeze his hand. "I don't want to be the reason why you're missing out on something you want to do. It's not because it's not my thing that it can't be yours." He's already shaking his head. "It's not fair! We can also go to Barranquilla together another time. You should go to the concert and have fun with your friends."

"I could not care less about the concert." He hugs me tight and mumbles in my neck. "So salsa it is."

"for you, i would" is such a gentle and sweet love language like no maybe i wouldn't usually do this but i would love to do it if it would make you happy.

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I miss you in quiet ways, in skipped songs, in sunsets that don’t feel right, in jokes I can't tell anyone else.

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I have an important day tomorrow and I just wish he was here

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My dad said his name for the first time today and I started crying

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just a little life update: unlovable!

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"I was talking to him on my way here. I was like ey Eider, voy para donde tu señora mk."

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Joan Didion writes, in On Keeping a Notebook, that the purpose of keeping a notebook, or a journal for that matter, isn’t because you simply want keep a personal record of things; but because you want to remember the person you were at that specific moment. we write things down on our notebook/journal/diary (whichever one of those you keep) because we want to remember. we want to remember what specific people meant to us on a particular day or hour. or minute. we want to remember our first impression of something (or of doing that something), possibly of someone, too. sometimes we think we’ll “always remember” important events: “I’ll make a mental note of that” etc etc. but in reality everything is fleeting. so Didion says write it down. keep a journal. that way, people, places, and certain events will always be there in case you ever want to come back to them sometime in the future. but also so that they don’t ever haunt you.

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Would I see him again in a next life?

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My chest is burning