Memory

The first time I feel that way was when I was twelve. I was in school, and there was this beautiful girl with blond hair and blue eyes which used to turn into green when she was upset. The very first time I saw her, she was, surprise surprise, crying. She used to cry a lot, and I was too young (and still am) to fully understand why. Maybe they're right and you're not supposed to understand women. Anyway, she was crying and I felt like I'd do anything for her to stop crying. But I wasn't in love, of course. However I really liked what I saw. She looked so beautiful with her wild-long hair, and she was running away, in such a hurry. And I remember I thought: 'I wish I could talk to her'.

God, Universe, a superior power, coincidence, something, must have listened to me, because I had the chance to talk to her. She started to come to my classroom, I cannot remember why, but I had the chance to see her every day. And I just approached to her just to see her, though I didn't say anything to her. I was to scary to do that. Until one day a friend of mine kind of confess to me that he liked her. And he was to scared too to speak to her. So I offer my service and talked to her to introduce her to my friend (genius).

They became friends, and he was warmer than I was, so he could speak to her easier than I could have. However, I had sometimes the chance to speak to her, and we kind of got along very well, even thou I felt like I wasn't going to do anything about it, because my friend was hitting on her. And although she was older than we, and I guess that was the reason for us to be scared, she was a nice, warm person, and she was so, so kind when we talk, that I began to feel kind of sad for not being braver and tell her something else.

A month after, I suppose (this was long, really long time ago), she wrote a letter to my friend. I couldn't help but feel something like jealousy (though I didn't really know about it by that time). He read it to me, and I felt a relief. She didn't say anything wrong, just that he was nice. And he started bluffing to his other friends of that silly letter. His friends made fun of him because, seriously, there was nothing to be proud of, and they broke the letter. She found out, and she got really upset (with years of distance I realize that she wasn't upset at all: that situation just gave her a perfect excuse to play that card...). I tried to light the mood on, but she was mad...at him. 

After that, she wrote a letter for me, kind of in the tone that the one she wrote to my friend. But this was a bit different, because she said she enjoyed my company, and that was weird. I felt ridiculously happy when I read that, but I couldn't let her know that, because she would have take advantage of that, and I felt like I have a really good change to make a slightly move towards her, but I had to play my game really well.

After another month, she and I were talking to each other almost daily (of course it was school and I know: did we really have a choice here? I'm guessing no...), but the situation improved vastly for me. We were cuddling, and we were laughing. Everything was nice, and I started to develop some deep feelings towards her. Also, she had introduced me to her friends, and I got along with them, or it appeared to be that way, so I was making advances with her. And every time I touched her, as in a hug, I felt a relief, a kind sensation, and I started to think about her more and more.

One day, one of her friends started to talk to me, like if she had some deeper interest in me. Not phisically, or romantically, but like if she was trying to tell me something. I was too young to get it (and even now that is still hard for me), so she had to made it specific:

'She is waiting for you to ask her for being a couple'

That was new information, and I almost panicked when she told me that. I managed to behave, to control the situation, and then I started talking to her friend very friendly, trying to find out whether or not this information was true or if she was playing. But deep down, I so wanted this to be true, because it gave me the kick that I was waiting for...it gave me bravery. So that same afternoon I asked her: do you wanna be my girlfriend? 

I remember that I was shaking like a leaf, and I almost die when the words came out of my mouth. She was staring at me, almost with blankly eyes, and she was surprised. I was thinking 'this could be so good or so wrong', afraid of her reaction. She said nothing for seconds, which I felt like hours, and then she started explain herself...'this is bad', I thought. She started all like 'you know, you're my friend, and we have spent some great time together...', and she went on an on, and I was waiting for the objection, the 'but' of the sentence...and I didn't hear it. I was looking at her blue eyes directly, and she was like do I say yes or do I say no...and then she said yes...then she said no...and finally she said 'let me think about it and tomorrow I'll have an answer for you'.

That was good enough for me, and I went home thinking about how could be possible to me for asking her that. I felt weird. Good but weird, because I had never asked something like that before to a girl. I barely could talk to girls by that time. And I did it. I felt like the effort was worthy, and that even if she said no, I would have been ok because I was brave an talk to her. And in all honesty, I felt a relief. That afternoon wasn't that bad because instead of feeling anxious, I felt relief. So the wait wasn't badly at all.

The next day I so felt anxious. This is it, thought I. And the waiting felt really long. 

She came to my classroom by 9 am or something, and she entered, looking at me, and I went to her. Then she said, 'I thought about it, and the answer is yes'. Then I gave her a clumsy kiss, which improved very soon. I felt...I really tried to remember how I felt, because that was the very first time I really felt attracted to someone, and she had correspond to my feelings. But I'm not sure if I can remember this the right way. All I know is that the kiss tasted the sweetest thing in my life at that point.

We started a relationship, a cute, innocent relationship, in which we talked to each other, support each other and kiss each other. Pretty much that was it. But my heart felt alive, or something, and my view of the world improved vastly. And I started to feel sad when she was sad, and immediatly tried to fix the situation for her. Just to see her happy, just to see that beautiful smile of her. 

One day I was out of my classroom, and she was at hers. I was alone, losing time, thinking about how I felt about her, trying to make my mind and to understand why I felt so good when around her. Then I thought I was overreacting, that my feelings weren't that strong. I must say while I was thinking about this I didn't realize she was at her classroom. The door was open, and she was right next to it, so I could see her. And suddenly, I looked at that classroom, and I saw her: she was sitting on her chair, writing down on a notebook, or something, and she was so focused on her task. Her hair falling down to her shoulders, and crossing her legs, I swear, she was the most beautiful woman I've ever saw. And my heart was beating fast. 

The next thing I know is that I am so overwhelmed of this feeling, but I don't know what to think (I knew, but I didn't want to acknowledge it). And then she looked at me...and we are 24 feet appart, but I can see her smiling, and I am smiling too. Then, in a moment, she is outside the classroom, and she's giving me a letter. That was she was so focused on. She's asking me to read it, and while I read, I'm trying to focus on my feelings. Everything was so new to me...So I have to do a wild guess, which I did immediately : this must be love. I am in love. And when I finished, I told her. 

That was the most beautiful think I could say. I felt beautiful by saying those words, and I wanted them to be true, because the feeling was nice, and she believed me. She didn't have much of a choice, because she saw in my eyes that I wouldn't lie about something like that. Because it was serious. And she told me she loved me too. But I was so bad at demonstrations, and she wanted me to be more romantic, and to be more supportive, and to me more grown up, which I wasn't, and that was the first of the end. 

I guess she was having a rough time at her house, with her parents or something. We were way too young to go that far. I remember she broke with me twice, though I don't remember why, exactly. She said that it wasn't her fault, that there were things that I didn't understand or some crap like that.

One day she looked for me at my classroom, and took me somewhere else. She had already broken up with me and we were 'as friends'. She started talking, and then she said she didn't want to lose me or something. And for my surprise, I asked her: 

'are you sure? Because I don't want this on and off situation...'. 

I didn't mean to say it, but deep down that was the most honest thing I could say to her at that moment. And I realized that I was mad at her because she was always blaming others for not being able to do things. And also, I think she was being bullied by her classmates because she was 'dating' someone younger. That was like a sin or similar. Anyway, she looked at me with surprise, because that was so not me, but she said:

 'yes, I understand you're mad but, I'm sure. I wanna be with you'.


I know, the whole thing sounds ridiculous, specially given the fact of our age and the situation of the school. But we were learning, and that was a very good experience. So we went back. That was the first time we broke up, and we tried to move on. But eventually we broke up two months later, I think. That wasn't unexpected, and that wasn't that bad. However, at that time I was still in love with her (or at least I thought so), for that reason it was a bit hard to see her and not speaking to her. 

That's right, deep down we knew we wouldn't be able to keep the friendship, and I really don't get why. All I know is that neither of us would have been strong enough to do it, so we stop talking, and the situation became akward for almost a year, which was the time I was kept in that school by my parents.

At the end I left the school, but I didn't forget her, because she was my very first love experience, and we both (hopefully) enjoy that, even if it wasn't so kind at the end. But breaking up is hard, isn't it? And besides, I was twelve and she was fifteen, I think. 

Almost five years later, I was in the subway, sitting, and as always, I was distracted. Then I look at people, and...there she is. At the begining I didn't believe what I was seeing. But then I look at her eyes, and I couldn't mistake that. Yes, she was there. And when she looked me back, she immediately recognize me, and she flushed. I smiled, and I didn't say anything (what was I supposed to say). I just smiled at her, and I think she understood that all I have for her is a great feeling and an awesome memory of her, because she was my very first love.

I left the subway, and never saw her again. And that situation helped me not to think about her that much, to turn the corner, because before that subway situation, I thought about her almost every day of those five years, and I didn't really moved on until that day. And I am grateful for all the good stuff that happened after that subway.

When we're ready

She was one of those very hot women who no one is hitting on because all men (but no women) tend to think that she was the kind of woman who is out of anyone's league. And sometimes she was so alone, that you wouldn't believe it. 

The girl next to her was less hot, but still a very attractive young woman. I started to talk to her, but I dropped it really soon, as soon as I found out she was one of those women who are well-aware of their good looks and they use it all the time.

I get it, you're hot, you're cute, you're beautiful, but I learned years ago how to identify situations in which I can actually have a shot and those in which I don't. And this  time I didn't have a shot. Besides, other thing I have learned before is not to think with my dick. And as much as I liked her, I'm not an imbecile, and quite frankly, I'm kind of offended, because she thinks very little of me.

So I went back to the first girl. I talked to her, asking questions and not answering any -because, you know, keep them interested- and I was shocked how fast she gave me green light to take her to her flat. And you may not believe it, but I'm not looking for sex. At least, not tonight, per se. Anyway, I took her invitation, and we went out of the bar. And surprise surprise, she lived very near, and although you have to watch your back with situations like this, because of the robbery, and all that stuff that this city has, I felt really comfortable with her. I mean, we were having such a nice conversation that I didn't think that she was trying to hurt me or something. Also, I wouldn't have been important if she did. I went out of house just looking to get in some trouble; maybe a fight, or even more, get stab or something. I was so disappointed with my life that at that point it wouldn't be that important.

Anyway, I walked her to her house -her name was Gina- and I seriously didn't even implied that I wanted sex or get upstairs. Still, once we were there, (like ten blocks away from the bar) she asked me 'would you like a cup of coffee?', and for the first time in so long, I feel comfortable agreeing to that. Because the other times it was such hurry, such an overwhelmed feeling of what would happen next...exhausting.

But this was not the case. My answer was 'sure', and I went in. She got this beautiful flat, very well decorated, with paintings and no photos. That was odd. So I started to look really carefully in order to catch some of the usual stuff somewhere -photos, a library, music, movies, something- and besides the painting, the chairs and the couch, I didn't see any of that. Maybe they were in other room. But still, that made me thought that she wanted to keep her privacy.

At this point we had not spoken about the sentimental situation yet. Oddly I didn't care what she was up to in that field, and I guess she didn't care of mine as well.

-Have a sit, please. I'll make the coffee.

-Oh, please, let me help you. I don't feel comfortable sitting alone in your living room.

-Is that so? ok, then.

So I join her to the kitchen and we started talking about art, about novels -apparently she was quite a fan of movies- and about pretty much whatever we had in mind. She was a fashion designer, a very fancy line of clothes (that explain the minimalism on the decoration...well, at least that works for me) and she wanted to start her own business, with new brand, new clothes...the whole thing.

And I'm asking her what would it be the cost for something like that, and asking about the ideas of design, what would you call fashion and what old-fashion (I'm always interested in pretty much anything) and she was more than happy to answer all my questions. She was so happy that she never really asked me anything other than my name and the usual. And it was best of it.

Then we sit in the couch, and I couldn't help but mention the decoration.

-Well, for someone who loves design, you have a very minimalism taste.

-Yeah, well, The flat is not that big. Besides, I don't like to hang paintings all over the place.

-Yes, but you have no photographs of your family or ...you don't have anything. No portraits, no music or books at first sight...anything that can say something about you.

-Would you rather read or listen about me of someone else but me?

-No, no...of course not. It's just...it's weird. Can we put on some music?

-Sure, something you have in mind?

-Not really...just radio, anything. I don't like hearing the voices all alone.

-Ok then. I happen to have sound all over the house, but the controls aren't here. Just give me a sec.

And then she turns on the radio, and it's playing this beautiful song, Me and Mrs. Jones. And I smile at the memories. So she caught me smiling.

-Why are you smiling for?

-Nothing...I like that song.

-Do you?

-Yes. And it makes me wonder –and please stop me if I'm going too far-, are you married?

-Well, yes...no...I mean, I'm getting a divorce.

-Oh, sorry to hear that.

-Don't be. It's for the best.

-If you say so...

-What about you...married? children?

-No and no children, thankfully.

-thankfully?

-Yes...it would have been harder if I did have kids.

-So you're not married, but you lived with someone?

-Sort of, yes.

-And how long?

-6 months ago we broke up

-And what happened?

-It's complicated.

-Oh, sorry...am I pushing too far?

-No, it's not that. It's just...complicated. But long story short, we cheated on each other. So pretty much we fucked up.

-Oh...I see.

-Yeah, but what are you gonna do, right?

-And that's why you liked the song?

-Well, yes. Mia and I...we got along really well, but when it came of standing by each other, something failed every time. You know, it's not the same to love someone than support someone, to be there for someone...and she really cared for me, and I for her, but, I don't know...I guess we loved so badly that we left the rest away. So, yes, I loved her, and she loved me; and yes, we cheated on each other because we didn't want to accept that we weren't brave enough to stand up for the other.

-But it sounds like you still love her.

-Well, not really. I mean, all I know is that I really care for her well-being. The rest I don't know.

-That has to be tough.

-It was. But now is over. Now you tell me your story

-Me? What story?

-Why you and...your husband are ending the marriage

-Well...I have thought about it and...It’s complicated.

-Ok, if it is too much, then I'll drop it.

-No, no, it's ok. It's just that...he...he... he used to hit me.

-...ah (what!?!) Ehm....I don't know what to say.

-Yes...it's embarrassing.

-Yeeess...

-But I don't wanna talk about it. It's over and it's time to move on.

-Sure, and you will ...get over it. I'm sorry, but I'm shocked. How come that even happened?

-Well...at first it was his game. And I ...well, I won't deny it...I liked it. I liked when we played and he punished me. But then...I don't know...something changed, and it started to feel real...too real. And I cannot tell exactly when, but it was no longer a game. So at first I thought...maybe I deserved some of this, you know...because, I made him mad, or I did something wrong...But deep down, I knew that there was something not working in that logic.

(Oh my god! She's gonna cry. I don't wanna make her cry...Jeeez! I stare at her carefully, trying to anticipate the tears...but they won't come out. Not yet. She's not ready.)

-So anyway, I let him doing it for some time, until I have to start wearing sun glasses and to cover myself with clothes, because...the bruises...and, well, the pain...I had headaches sometimes, and other days I felt the urge to just run away, you know...

-Yes...

-So I tried to leave him once, and he came after me. Not aggressive but sweet...we talked and I expressed my emotions. I told him I didn't like the situation, and he was very kind, such a good listener...and he made the it won't happen again promise. But sure it did, soon enough he felt he was in a safe path.

-...gg...go on...(?)

-Well, when he...hit me, he used to point out what have I done wrong. You know, like 'you didn't call me back' or 'you didn't pick up the phone', or things like that. But there was this one time...he came home and I was drawing something on my desk. And he came in. And then...out of the nowhere...

here it comes...here it comes...oh god!

That piece of shit, just grabbed me by my wrist, push me into the bedroom and he pushed me really...really hard to the bed. And when I tried to get up he just hit me on my stomach...so I stood there, in pain, and he didn't say anything...and...and...then...he...he....ripped off my clothes and....and...he...

***

The next thing I'm doing is holding her really hard against me. She's crying, and crying, and it seems she won't stop 'till morning. But I don't care. I know I wasn't looking for sex but this is definitely not the way I imagine my ending for the night. So when I look at her, I can tell she's really hurt...not physically, but she's really pissed...I guess she's pissed at herself, for allowing that stupid, fucker asshole to hit her.

Anyway, after ten minutes or so, she's lying in my shoulder, relief (I think) and almost asleep.

-Sorry for telling you all of that. I know it wasn't any of your business.

-It's ok. Do you wanna go to bed?

(She stares at me and for a moment I can tell she thought I meant both of us. So I clarify)

-Do you wanna go to sleep?

-Not really...can you stay any longer?

-Sure...(Can I? Do I want to?) Do you want some tea?

-That'd be good.

(I left there in the couch, and make my route to the kitchen to prepare a tea. With cinnamon or something. Then I head back to the main room, and there she is, all red-chicks because of the crying and so...lonely.)

-There you go- I said, while I hand the tea

-Thank you. How long can you stay?

-I don't know. How long are you gonna be sad?

-It may take a while...

-So I'll stay a while.

-Really? Don't you have work to do?

-Well, not really. I guess we both are lucky

-Why?

Ok, lucky was not a good choice after her story

-Because you want me to stay, I want it too, and turns out I can. So is a win-win.

-I see.

Her eyes are darker

-Do you wanna sleep here? Should I bring you a sheet or something?

-Yes...

I go to her bedroom, and there it is. Portraits. She's hugging a man, I guess that's him. Asshole! and She has some pictures of parties, and some books on her table. And now I guess, can't tell why, that she's selling the flat. I dismiss the thought and I grab some sheets for her. So I put her to sleep, and she is in awe, but I don't know why.

-You ok? can I get you anything else?

-No...I'm fine. Thank you.

-Ok. I smile at her, but I have to ask. Why do you trust me?

-Sorry?

-You...just got through an awful and traumatic situation...and you're just...so confident with a complete stranger. And don't say I'm not because that's what I am. I just met you tonight. You barely know me...

-and already need you.

-...Sure about that?

-Yes...I know you won't hurt me.

-yes...I won't. So please, sleep.

We stare at each other for a couple of minutes, realizing that this is an impossible way to get to sleep. So I sit next to her, and she is resting her head on my legs. I'm touching her face -she just looks beautiful- and then she starts to fall asleep.

Once she's completely sleep, she's soring. And it's cute. So I move her head gently -she looks relief- and I head up to the window. It's such a great view from this flat in the morning. And I don't hesitate. I start writing in a piece of paper a note:

"Thank you for a wonderful night, despite the whole situation. I know it's not what you'd call 'amazing' but somehow you have lightened a heavy weight that I was carry on my back. See, with your company I felt comfortable, like I wasn't in quite some time. Also, I went out from home looking to get into some trouble, and instead of that, I had the chance to spend the night with a wonderful woman.

So thanks for that, thanks for sharing your story, thank you for taking a complete stranger up here, to see such a beautiful sight -not just the one you get by standing on the window but also that one you get by looking at you sleepy in the couch. Btw, you snore.

So that is a goodbye. And I know that doesn't make any sense, because I thought all night long "I don't wanna have sex", and there you go, I don't want it. Not because of you, but because I'm not comfortable right now. I'm aiming for something deeper, and you, sleeping, were the deep thing I needed. So make yourself a wonderful and beatiful life, please.

Att. S.J."

As soon as I finished, I left the note hanging in one of the paintings she had, and left. I know I should have left my phone or something, but I have no intention on getting in touch with her. At least not in purpose. When we're ready, sweetheart...when we're ready...

Life is real

To be in love is to fell
you can be everything,
to do anything.
The way you make me fell
the last days that go by
is like to reborn.

As well as you, I don't want
to be something to someone,
but everything for you.
Think about it, and you will
see, like me, that
life is real.

I want to give you
the best I can.
I don't have much time,
this is it, and everything
will be allright. From 
here to forever.

'Cause you're something 
real, very real,
how so long have you been here?

Paradise

I
I guess I must be strong now,
"You're the man here", you said.
But this is so much hard
So I won't explain something
I can't understand...this 
felling that makes me mad.

Play guitar and sing along
is not the same without you.
And when it's getting better
I wonder if it would be different
if you were here, if you only knew
that there is a boy who only loves you.

II
I won't tied your hands and soul
I know that  our day will come
when we met the music we used to love
and be able to believe in our own love.

I've tried to convince myself
that no matter, anything,
but you know ain't not true
because you're in heaven, in paradise,
and I know that is good for you,
but I want to go now...

So I don't believe this world.
Since the day you pass away
I love jazz and nothing more.
The better you feel, the better you sing
So before I made this wrong stuff
I'll go to my own paradise. 

Love me if you dare.

For you I sang songs, 

ain't thought that you'd go.

And yes...I'd dare to love you.

Always you...my one and only love.

Come and heal my wounds

kiss my heart and soul,

love me if you dare,

the rest I don't care.

So lets going to start again.

'Cause I want a woman, 

not a bottle opener.

A girl you can account there.

At rainy and sunny days.

At good and bad news.

I accept. I say yes. Will

you love me, will you dare...?

Amy, amy, amy...

I know how absurd it is to write to a dead person. So this is not just a letter for her, but to remember what's left. When there is not much we will not go in vain subtleties. If I were a musician I would write songs to the Queen of Soul to sing them in heaven. 

By fortune I met her through music, not through scandals. I met her when someone brought to me the album "Duets II" by Tony Bennett, because on september 14 last year, I was listening to the radio about Winehouse's death (I never had heard her before her death) and they put the single that she made with Benett. So, when they brought me the cd, I put it and was thrilled with that song. After listening a few times, thinking it over, I began to listen to Amy Winehouse seriously. And I concluded that it would be impossible not to love a woman as sweet as she was. I will not say that I understand her (I'm not interested in it). I will say that she didn't need to be saved, or wouldn't wanted. I do not think she would like to become a myth. Her death and those who complain it, complain the fact of not being able to listen to her anymore. It is a selfish and ridiculous complaint. She did what she could; when she could not with fame, she left.

Those who say that she was not a jazz singer, listen to her version of "Teach me tonight", or listen to her song "Amy, Amy, Amy" and see whether or not a jazz singer. Of course, I'm not obsessive, and I know that not all the presentations were good, she ussualy jump in bad shape on stage. Also, I know that her style, uncomplicated, improvising in each song can not please most of the time (I dare to say she never sang the same song in the same way twice). It is unfortunate that such things happen. It is regrettable to take refuge in drugs. I would say that one at twenty is not ready to deal with the fame that way, and what is mere chance product of similar causes and consequences, such as excessive fame in youth ("the club of twenty-seven") is has become an almost cult status. For my part, I remember her as the star that shone. 

To me she was like Janis Joplin. A woman who could make love in every song and then feel a deep void that was evident on her face. Perhaps it was her reincarnation, maybe now achieved leaving her human form. What we care about that! Amy was in the right place to make the music she knew make. In any case, I'm glad to hear it achieved little or much she did. She is now a star shining on the sky.

For good or for bad, the disgrace only wants strong hearts. This is probably the first lesson that I've learned from she. Thanks.

Amy, amy, amy.

Teach me tonight.

Love is a losing game.

Stronger than me 

And this rare song showing her voice.

Bolero - By Julio Cortázar

This is my free version of a poem of Julio Cortazar. 

Bolero - Julio Cortázar

What a vanity to imagine

that I can give you all, love and bliss,

paths, music, toys.

All of that is true:

I give you all what is mine, is true;

but all of mine is not enough for you.

Like to me, is not enough that you

give me all of yours.

Because that, we will never be

the perfect couple, like the post card,

if we are not able to accept

that only in maths,

two is the result of one plus one.

Thereabouts I see a paper

in which only reads:

You always was my mirror,

it means that to see me I had to see you.

And this little fragment:

The slow loveless's machine

the gears of the reflux

bodies that left the pillows

beddings and kisses.

And stand up against the mirror,

They wonder to themselves,

not already seeing between them,

not now naked to each other,

I don't love you anymore,

sweetheart.