Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time there was a different tree in the forest. Out of all the beauty this tree was there, different, quiet, lonely. This tree, believe it or not, its me. I felt such an extraordinary connection to this tree. Not one exact reason why, but I felt like that tree was me.
I stared at that tree for the longest 10 seconds the car stopped to shoot my camera and the image of the different quiet tree got trapped in my eyes, far beyond a mixture of pixels.
I'm pretty sure no one asked this little tree to come to the promise land, to meet new trees and to grow together with some others. I'm sure destiny brought it to that forest. How would it feel to be so different, and let me explain myself: white and pale on a all green land (let's be clear, I didn't forget it is fall..and leaves are changing colors). I know how does it feel. It is already 3 years, and probably that's why I was in such funk last Saturday (I'm so sorry, David),yes, three years since I stepped in this country for good. To start from scratch, to get convinced of my strengths and to make my fears to disappear. Those were the thoughts I never told anyone. I always said "I didn't want to come and my dad obligated me to move here" (well, that's true) but I got convinced on the plane that I was strong enough to let my misery to dissipate. Come on, I was going to see my sisters, brother and my mom (and hear through the flight my dad's snore). My first 4 hours in the air were pretty annoying, I cried non stop because I knew I was coming to a place where I had no friends, no places where to go for a coffee while talking bout exams in college. I had nothing but clothes in a suit case, I had packed up my life in 90 pounds of suit cases. I probably can say that half of the weight were tears dropped on my stuff while packing.
So, once I stepped here in the US I saw so many different people, yet the same. Everyone knew what to do, everybody, but me. I was clueless. I felt so disoriented. My life's compass just didn't work. I didn't have a north were to head to.
I wonder how it felt to the tree to arrive to that place. Probably the river sent him there, probably he got separated from the white trees land. I don't know. Me (and the tree) arrived to the unknown land.
So anyway,  days passed, month 01 passed, depression increased. Expectations in life were almost none. I can perfectly remember that to cry and to sleep were my 2 favorite activities through the day, when I could. I worked at a subs restaurant for 3 days, and even though I thought that in that short time nothing wrong was going to happen, a customer questioned me what I was doing in this country and that I should go back home (like if I didn't want to do so). I learned in a very bitter way that I was nobody for this society. It hurt. I saw how my older sister had to stay in a kitchen for hours a day, without sitting down, cooking for some other people. It hurts, it really does, still, because my sister hates to cook, and she had to cook every day. I had to see my mom working hard, my brother to grow up with frustrations of kids making fun of him because he enrolled to elementary school without knowing ONE word in English. I've seen so many uncertainties in my family members life. I blamed everyone I knew, I suffered with so much pain, I learned how to feel down, I learned how does it feel to be blue. I'm sure my tree learned how to be white on a green land.
And all at the sudden it came to my mind the thought of having a higher education in the US. I mean, being honest, I didn't want to pass anymore through the constant experience of people kicking me out of their land. I just didn't want to feel rejection. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I worked sixteen hours a day, in 02 full time jobs, staying up till 1 am and going to work at 5am in the crudest, coldest winter I have ever experienced in my life. I knew it was a sacrifice, and still  I cry for letting myself to suffer so much. Those thoughts are still in my mind, pounding every second to remind me where life has gotten me to. I worked that much to have money to pay for school. I didn't know about student loans, I was living in my third world country mind that to study you must pay cash, or just pass without studying.
I wonder how was the acceptance on my tree. It is only surrounded by water that is continuously passing,  nothing that permanent tells the tree "I'm here, with you". I wished so much to have support words in my first year in this land. I wished oh so bad to be accepted. I wished I didn't have to receive the looks I received. I wished I was invisible, I wished to fall asleep eternally on my parent's couch. I wished and asked so much to life, that even to die wasn't sounding too bad.
But anyway, I decided that wasn't a good choice for me, because, being honest, I wanted to make my family happy. I suffer inside, I cry out, but I feel the pain inside. My family knows my personality as a person who gets upset and feeling-less, but I need to make them happy but not showing how sad I felt at the time. So, I decided to take the lead, to pioneer the way my sisters should go, for the good of all. I was, anyway, stronger than they.
I decided to stand up and, just like this tree, be different, yes, but fitting in the same landscape. I wouldn't care anymore for people who hurt me. I promise I was going to be deaf and mute, so I couldn't hear how of sinner I was coming to a land where many people didn't like me, and I wasn't going to reply the way I knew and wanted.
I learned that there are friendly trees that want to lend a "branch" when in troubles. I met great people, starting by my sisters. I met them, only 3 years ago. I lived with them for over 20 years in the southern hemisphere of this continent, and I just knew them for the last 3 years. Thank to anything it took, even if it was misery, pain and frustration, I ended up having the most 2 wonderful sisters in this world, my friends, and my soul's peace (and sometimes anger, too).
Also, little by little, and even if  I was the weird tree, I learned how to love myself. Through that time I forgot how to love myself, I let the people who destroyed me emotionally to take control over me, to convince me of their malice, their anger and racism. I discriminated myself. I negated myself to live, to love and to feel. I built a shield not to love, not to feel. I wasn't able to handle more suffering. I was scared.
At some point, almost 02 years ago, things got even better. I was convinced to re-start school, for the third time this time and to succeed. I wanted to prove myself it was worth it. At the time, in parallel,  I met the one who's my partner for life now. Very unexpected meeting (and worth of a complete new post). I was scared of the possibility of going away, I was already loving him. You see, my tree has two trunks, one has been generated over time, that's the connected tree of love.
I moved far away to go to college. It hurt. It was fun. I was stronger and happier, I already learned to be with myself, to be happy. However, the shadows of year 01 in the US came back, met people who made me regret being there. Met wonderful people, like my roommate.
Now I'm here, still far away, but closer to my family than I ever was. I have a person next to me which means a lot, my soul mate, my fire, my peace and my excitement (You know that is you, David). You're the other part of that tree (me).
Over time things changed, my family got bigger and I embrace my friends as part of my family. My brother, the one who didn't know English, is a very smart kid, top in his class, and taking advanced classes, my sister, the oldest one, who was at a restaurant is working on her accountant degree, returning to college after many years, courage to admire. My baby sister, she's starting from scratch, Honor Society invitations in hand because of her ability in school, she's following my steps on going to the same college I went. I feel like she looks out for me when weaknesses come to her. I'm her support. Me, well, I'm just a simple person who's dealing with the every day situations in life. The time has passed, not quick, not slow either, and I can truly  embrace this land as my home, my country-regardless of who wants me in or not.  I am grateful because I'm achieving not my American dream, but my life's dream. I'm learning every day. I know I'm different and just like this tree, I'm surrounded by lot of things and yet still isolated. I am different. And I am aware of it.
Now explaining all this, my fascination and admiration for this tree can make more sense. Maybe not. I never thought I was going to write about this, a very personal emotion. But it's out, and it feels much better, because seeing back in the time to today, I achieved a lot, but most important, I learned how to love and how to be loved. And god knows I have much love to give to you, my loved one.

Falls

This post could sound a little bit funny, and sarcastic on my own way. What a wonderful way to start the season by falling. Not only one fall but several falls. I realized that I fell in love with organic milk. Yes. I've been diagnosed (temporarily) as a lactose-intolerant person. I guess I am not anymore. I drink milk every day. That's a good way to fall (in love).

Last weekend I fell. Not fun. It hurts. Regardless of bruises and facial issues. I loved this fall and the effect of stamping my face against the sidewalk/road. It made me understand (in a hard way) that David is with me all the time. Every time, his support is just amazing. His care and concern about me just re-affirmed the solid foundation of our relationship: Love. I can't imagine sharing my life with any other person.

As always, I leave my writing for some other times (Writing back after 2 days). I have to public admit I started a relationship with Hirudoid. My mom introduced me to him after my fall and since then I have to be with him. If you get injured and as result of it have a bruise, use it, he's the best. I'm on day 4 in recovery and I can notice my bruises aren't as bad as they were on day 1. Should I make it FB official? No. And I'm not going to start to talk about social networks and its social impact. By the way, I recently noted the major competence for Facebook, Netlog. Have anyone heard of it? Looks like we're being attacked by the "status" or "photo" syndromes more than once, twice, who knows how many of them.

I learned with this fall to have appreciation for my teeth. I promise to floss every night (and day, even if i'm running late/tired) brush them with good paste, count them every day and smile for having all of them with me. I learned that make up can do wonders, and also disasters. I learned that people who truly love you aren't going to judge you, not even going to "give the look". They're truly worried about you, sending you websites of "how-to-get-rid-of-things-dot-com" or calling or sending  messages. They say that beauty can be purple as well. I know it's temporary, and that I'll be back to normal.

I reduced my mirror sessions to 3 times a day, maybe four, Ok! I guess five. But only to see how I apply Hirudoid on me, and to color check the marks of my lack-of-luck. I was complaining bout not having a mirror big enough to reflect my entire self and judge my clothing, weight and so, but now I'm glad I can focus of one problem at the time: My face.

Besides my face-fall,  I have to comment about this beautiful season. While driving on the country side of this wonderful state I got to see multicolor leaves on the trees, on the mountains. What did I do first? I called David to tell him how excited I was seeing all the leaves changing colors. Without a doubt my favorite pallet of colors to admire. It reminds me also that I need to start packing up. Smoky Mountains wait for me in one of the most wonderful weekends in my life.

I should stop worring bout the purpleness of this fall and start getting more excited of the pallet of colors the mountains have to offer me. I should do laundry and start smiling, because I'll grab a gallon of organic milk and some Hirudoid on-the-go...

Call Me?

On a Sunday night after feeling a little bit sad because David and I were separating again I received at 21:00H a text message that said: " Call me?" It only took me one second to press the key #7 and the magical connection  was right there. I heard David's voice and I couldn't help it but smile for a long long time. This phone call only lasted 2 minutes. I-64 has a nice particularity of non-reception-areas pretty much all the way. I'm trying to call again. Intent #2: Dialing. Result#2: Answered. Time talked:131 minutes. Reason: Love. 


I left that comment posted up on August 8th 2010, and I suddenly stopped writing. So, I left the action on David's phone connection. Phone calls from David always have a dramatic impact on me: either I get more energy than ever to be a superwoman or I get lazy and silly and end up laying in bed. Either effect works perfectly on me. That little device, a communication device, is one of the biggest helpers I found since I moved away from Northern VA back in August 2009. I pushed (on purpose) the "reset" button on my old phone trying to see how much I would use it, and as of today, I spent 357:11:01 (h:m:s) only to receive calls.  I can't believe that I used this phone so much to receive-mostly- voices of people who love me. The other almost 323 hours are the ones I used to call someone. My someones are well defined: my wonderful David, parents, sisters (included Laura), grandpa Lalo, bank claims, insurance company, 2-3 friends from college, and ordering food. What's the thing that makes phone so necessary? Why is it that my soul gets relieved by hearing voices when I don't see faces but when I talk to that person I complaint about not having him/her with me, physically? That's the weirdness of the phone. A sweet indulgence, a necessary sin.


I'm thinking on my trip to Bahamas. Under the excuse of the International roaming and the fact of not touching earth and being surrounded by water, I turned off my phone. I wonder if my parents thought that I was navigating in Magellan's time. I forgot I had a phone, I never thought on the buzz of the text message. I didn't care about my voice mail. I was happy. I was completely happy.  How is it possible that my phone makes me happy and also makes me sad, malevolent element of society - you phone that play with my emotions as you wish. 


Recently I went out to a bar with my sisters. After few drinks and long conversations I noticed our table filled with high tech phones and, my phone. Always surrounded by technology geeks and socially cool-wanna bes. Probably jealousy on my part, but I figured that modern isn't a word that fits quite well in me, I need to do some "exercise" and be part of the trend, the massive consumer.


But going back to the point of calling me. Call me? I sometimes just want to hear a little comment. A expression of love. Some other times I wish I could hear long life plans and funny stories. Sometimes I just want to feel like a little child and wonder about castles, charming princes and happy ever afters. Sometimes I don't want to use the phone when I get into arguments and discussions, those are the times when I wish Alexander Graham Bell never had the idea of creating it. 


I miss talking to someone, to you. I used to have 27 speed dials while living in Peru, now I have only 7, but I realized those are the most important ones I decided to have so far: voice mail, mom, dad, baby sister, big sister, love of my life, uncle who means a lot to me and many more spaces to get filled (maybe) or maybe to stay waiting forever.  


If I need to call you I will do it, I need to. If I want to call you, I'll try once and if you don't answer, I'll leave you a voice mail. If I don't want to call you, I'll do it anyway, I rather have a sour moment than no taste at all.  I will use you, simple modern human creation, to connect me to all my loved ones. To talk for over 2 hours to the person I love the most in the world, to demonstrate that I can be cool without high tech intimidating phones;my voice can be more intimidating than a piece of well shaped plastic. I'll dial your number tonight. You know it will ring and you'll have me in your ID Caller with my name on it, unless I'm calling to place a carry-out order, then your guess was wrong.