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Get you a better girl

I had this friend. He once told me "Let's talk in English so I don't feel like I'm talking about feelings". At first, I did not understand. Now I do.

I am writing in English so I do not feel like I am writing about feelings.
So I do not feel like I am writing about you.

It has been complete hours since I knew you like her. I would like to say I am better than I was this morning, but the truth is that I am not. I am just not crying anymore, but I am not better. In fact, I am devastated. It is killing me on the inside that you are not here anymore.

I would also like to say that I am strong, but right now at this very moment, I am not. I am a tiny little soul, wrapped in herself, hugging herself until I am not cold anymore, sobbing uncontrollably, choking herself with this tiny hands, pinching my ribs and the skin before them so I can stop crying. I am this little confused woman who does not have a prior notification of her tears, just the fact that her cheeks are already full of it.

I am this woman who ask herself why, or how did I lose you. Who wonders if I was not enough, or if I was too much. If I did something wrong, if I could do it differently, if it was my fault. I am this woman who reads our chat over and over and over again looking for the exact moment: the moment where you stopped loving me.

Because if you loved me, you would not want her. Or anyone else.

And I am missing the moment where you look me in the eyes and I see no love in yours. Where you kiss me and it feels different. Where you hug me and the pieces of our body just does not match anymore. And I am missing it because it does not exist. I wish you had done things differently, so I would not have any doubt that you do not love me anymore.

But now that I am determined to let you go, I can not help but wish you a girl who make you brave, who make you strong, who knows how do you like your coffee (with no sugar at all) and the fact that you need to eat before drinking, so you can drink all night long. Get you a girl who feel heartbroken when she sees you cry, who kiss your tears but also make herself stronger so she can carry the weight of your problems for a while, and you do not have to carry it alone. Get you a girl who walk by your side, not ahead or behind you (like I used to do). Get you a girl who dance better that I did that night with you. A girl you can kiss in a crowded room, and a girl you can kiss when the two of you are all alone.

Get you a girl you can show your most damaged parts, and still thinks it shines like precious gold. And never let her down. Date a girl who works hard on pleasing you, not because you deserve to be pleased, but because everyone in this world should be with someone who make an effort to made us believe we are worth it. Get you a girl who never let you go to bed angry, or feeling unwanted. Get you a girl you want to travel the world with. Get you a girl who appreciate your birth marks, and the way you laugh. Who value your taste in music.

Do not get you a girl who cries thinking about you, and writes about you. Do not get yourself a girl who talks about you all the time. Who awkwardly stares at you while you are driving, thinking how handsome you look. A girl who wants to solve your problems. Who wants to take it all away from you. A girl who sings you in French even when she does not know how to sing. A girl who runs at you when she sees you, just because she want to hug you really bad. A girl who victimizes herself in the social media. A girl some man tasted before. A girl who did not know how to love until she met you. Do not get yourself a girl that waits for you to write in the chat window, or keeps staring at the photos of the two of you missing both of the faces in there. Do not get you a girl like me.

Get you a better girl.

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Soy

Me cuesta la vida y a veces me duele el alma. Me gusta la espinaca, el olor a libro nuevo, el rasgarme las yemas de los dedos con hojas afiladas. Me gusta la gente que responde cuando los saludo de mano, la gente que te observa a los ojos cuando cuenta una historia, la gente que ata sus zapatos y esconde las tirillas. Me gusta rozar pieles, y sentir las yemas de otros dedos. Me gustan los cabellos suaves, el olor a hombre, las manzanas verdes y jugosas. Me relaciono con la gente, a veces sonreímos (a veces incluso reímos). Soy detallista, valoro el tiempo en que sonrío, me hago ilusiones muy fácil y lloro muy poco. Suelto carcajadas pero llevo el peso de una inseguridad muy grande en la espalda. Pienso cosas terribles de mí misma para que nadie pueda pensar cosas peores. Añoro el mañana porque tengo un plan de vida. Camino cabizbaja y deprisa, y sonrío cuando me sueltan piropos obscenos. Me gusta hablar de sexualidad pero no la práctico. Cons...
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a 932 words' abstract

part of me writes because there is nothing else i could do. part of me writes in english because I have been taught that's the way I would feel I am not talking about feelings. but i am. there was a moment in time where things were good and then they just crashed. all of them at the same time. i was the valid and vividly representation of the butterfly effect. all the aspects related to me simply went bad and somehow most of them seemed out of my reach to be solved and i could do nothing about them, except wait. - there were nights, constant and repeatedly nights, where my body and my head asked for help. i felt i needed therapy again and i was not mad about it, i loved therapy - but therapy was the great reminder that something was not right and i needed to fix it. sincerely, too many things needed therapy and i was not able to seek for help to all of them. i was aware that university was the only environment that could postpone my feelings and mitigate them until i came b...
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