Birthday Blues...

I wouldn't normally publicize some things online especially when being honest usually means being discovered for who I really am, or in some cases for who I really am not, but who I've been acting like. My birthday was Sunday though the celebrations began on Friday night. We went to a great little resto-bar with white leather seating and an ambience to set the mood for a sophisticated grown-up birthday. Everyone I had wanted to come was there and really I did have a wonderful time that evening, but at the same time my soul was like the dog barking at the coming storm when the sun is still shining... I felt it brooding and I told Irene, "me voy a querer quedar en casa para mi cumple porque siento que voy a estar un poco triste ese dia." Sure enough, the feeling grew and grew and I ran away on Saturday morning (after being kicked out of my room by the cleaning lady) to my datey-friend's apartment and when I got there I spent the whole afternoon blogging, writing, and talking to Jods on Skype. Later that day I made plans with a lovely fellow from Uruguay whom I met in Montevideo, Gorgonzola, who reminds me so much of Johnny: the kid who has all the patience and talent of being my best friend and who sees right through me like a hobo's hankerchief and isn't afraid -when asked- to point out exactly what he sees... The light drizzle began here. He (Gorgi) started talking about my datey-friend and my past relationships, broken hearts... and not-surprisingly, Johnny came up. I started to feel uncomfortable being analyzed so, but if there is one thing I've learned in life, it's that if I do feel uncomfortable with someone analyzing me, it's probably because there is something within me that causes the discomfort.

I became serious and while Gorgi was talking I heard a phrase that I had heard before from Jod's mouth, but for some reason the words didn't stick the last time I heard them. It was a simple question followed by a stunning-yet-not statement, "Why do you do that? Make those crazy dramatic gestures I mean? It makes you seem so fake, like you're not being you." [he said this just after I swept my whole arm over my face, which I'm sure had some contorted expression on it, and up over head to simply move some crazy out of control frizzy curl out of my eyes.] I stopped, and after thinking Jod's gone an inhabited this poor fellow's body, I couldn't help but glance - for the first time in a long time, and only for a moment - hacia adentro de mi misma.... Then there was the rain and I could hear a little thunder in the background.

Continuing in our conversation I discovered that everytime he would say something with an undertone of the proverbial accusatory finger I would first get defensive and then I was forced to concede his point - reluctantly. Then I began to fear what more he could see in me and I suddenly stopped talking and stopped looking him in the eye. I could tell there were definately things in me that had grown a few cob webs and needed a bit of a scrub down... Then I saw the lightning flash. I sat straight up and thought to myself that these things are not really a part of me. Like Gorgi said, "these things don't fit your personality." I remembered Brother Ward's words of wisdom from forever ago: "That is not who I am, it's just what I've done."

I know you are all wondering what kind of monster I've really become and are wondering what has caused me such conviction, but please don't preoccupy your minds with such nonsense, it would only be food for gossip and I'm the last that would place myself in a position to be disected by the masses.

The clock strikes 12 and so begins my Sunday. My BIRTHDAY. I'm out at another bloke's birthday party and I feel much like Jim Craig in the low country surrounded by strangers and spaniards. I left. It's raining, hardly anyone's called, I'd left my favorite pair of shoes on the bus (don't ask, it's the most emotional trigger right now), along with my umbrella - these things are gone forever - and I was standing at the bus stop 7 blocks away from my house with a young man who, right then I had no desire to be standing in the rain (nor anywhere else) with, and as the raindrops the size of a man's fist fall on me I accidentally remind myself that I'm not home. I crawl in my bed, wet, crying, missing my shoes and my beloved twin brother and sleep, blessed sleep invades my consciousness... It's morning. And I wake up, take of my sleep mask, look at my clock and the birthday waterworks begin and the tormentuous storm would not subside until April 23.