10 months

I was afraid when we decided to end it. Afraid I would never love again. Clinging to you, my first love. But we were hurting each other. And you told me: you will fall in love again. Not only that, but you will fall in love a million times more. Sometimes it will last for years, or for a split second. I didn't believe you then, I felt angry and lonely.

Some years went by, I could still call you, you were still there. I would call you in the middle of the night to hear your deep voice, tell you what was bothering me. I never woke you up, you were always awake at night. And you understood.

The 28th of September of 2008 came, and it happened. And I heard through your friend. And I felt the biggest emptiness in my whole life. I had lost you forever. You were not going to answer my middle of the night calls.

During these 10 months I have wanted to tell you so many things.

I didn't go to your funeral, I'm very sorry. I told everyone it was because I had an exam that day, but I couldn't care less about that exam. I could not face seeing you leave forever.
I heard that that girl you dated who was a bit weird and pretended to be bisexual entered the funeral home with a red rose and left it on your casket. In my mind she was dressed in black and wearing sunglasses. Maybe a big hat.
Your father was holding a kadish, his hands shaking, his eyes watery and lost in that room full of people. He keeps that kadish in the notebook he takes everywhere, next to the picture of your son. I learnt a few months later, when I met with him for coffee, that he dressed you up with a white sheet, it was the only thing he could find in a city so far away from Capital. And he put a kipa with a maguen david on your chest.
I heard there was a drawing of a green flower for you, I think your sister could have made it.

Your mom told me, when we finally gathered the strenght to meet, that you had come to life to teach us things. And when I think back about these words you told me when we decided we weren't going to be together again, I can only say that I agree with her.

I went back to that beach where we spent one summer. Your name was engraved in a stone next to the bus station where I picked you up that time. I stared at your name. It was raining and one of us had to go inside the station to buy a ticket. I stayed in the car, my eyes fixed in your name. Ivan.
I was stupid to think it would be easy to go to that place again, you were everywhere. I played some Smashing Pumpkins songs to you at the beach and walked around, remembering the time when we built that sand volcano and lit a newspaper so smoke would come out of it. It was a great volcano.

Before leaving the country I made sure I guided your sister through your cds. I know you had asked me to do it if this happened. It was a long time ago but I felt like you were with us while we played "The trees", "In the arms of sleep".... or "Birds in your garden".

I am sure you would have loved the new Jarvis Cocker cd. We would have shared the same favorite song, I am sure.

It's been ten months since you left. And I don't blame you anymore. It would be selfish to blame you. But I wish you would've stayed a bit longer. Alfonsín passed away, and thousands of people took the streets. You would've loved to tale pictures of the masses of people congregated, the red and white flags. Strangers mourning together.

Michael Jackson passed away too, you would have been into that too.
Good things happened as well, but I know you are aware. Because when I took the plane, leaving everything behind, I knew you were smiling, proud.

It's been three years since you told me that I would fall in love a million times in a lifetime. And I can't say if that's the absolute truth or not. But I can say that, everyday, I take your words and live up to what you taught me.

On why women want assholes

Before writing this, I should clarify that I am writing in English just to broaden the spectrum of readers, given that I am currently in Geneva and most of the people who may read this are fluent in this language.

I am leaving to Barcelona tomorrow. I have never been there before, and people tell me it is wonderful. I have, nevertheless, seen the movie "Vicky Cristina Barcelona". I don't know how it ends, I was watching it on a plane from Lima to Buenos Aires and it was just finishing when the plane started its descent, so they stopped showing movies. But I did see enough of it to get surprised when most of my female friends asked me to bring Javier Bardem - or replica- back from Barcelona. Why would all of my friends want me to bring back for them the self-centered, misogynous, selfish man embodied in this character? Why do my friends want to have in their hands a man that will probably never call them, or get bored and leave them after a few months - or weeks, to say the least? Why wouldn't they want the other guy? And why can't I remember the other guy's name?! The question in my head is - not for the first time in my life- why do women want assholes?
I don't think it's necessary to fill paragraphs with stories, we all know that most of us are most likely obsessed with the one who never called, who never calls, who for some misterious and incomprehensible reason can't reply text messages, who wants to be "just friends" (after they managed to take whatever on earth they wanted from us).
I am not saying that there are two types of men, I believe that men who behave in a reprehensible manner with some women can be the loveliest with other. But I can't get over our obsession to get those who evidently do not want us.
But sometimes, even if we realize this, we still wait for the text message of that guy who owes us a reply since last....month? and we don't even think about that guy who is always there, inviting us to places, replying text messages. It could be, I don't know, a natural tendency of women to masochism? an aversion to taking the easy path? Maybe it's not something that only happens to us women and we play the same tricks on men. Maybe no one notices that they are behaving like this towards others.
I seriously doubt that I can reach a conclusion in this post, but I accept comments on my line of argument from anyone.
As for me, I am taking a plane to Barcelona tomorrow, and will try to bring back men who are more worthy of their time to my friends than those who play incomprehensible games.