“I am what I am”. What I am is a person who can decide what she wants to feel, how she wants to feel it, and when she wants to feel it. Who can manipulate her every thought and emotion; who can put up a barrier without you even knowing it. I’m a person who can CHANGE. Who can be ten people at once, and not one of them being untrue to herself. I’m unpredictable at times, and thoroughly transparent the next. I can make you laugh, and I can make you cry. Make you want to jump out of a tree, and jump off a bridge. I can tell you what you want to hear, or say what you need to be told. I can be sweet, I can be bold. I can be cheesy, I can be realistic. I can be self-sufficient, I can be dependant. I can be everything you dreamed of, and your worst nightmare. I can tell jokes, and scary stories. Make you dream of a whole new world, or get mad at the one we live in. I’m all that and more, and that’s what you need to know, before you choose to take it or leave it.

No puedo dormir. Insomnio recorriendo por mis venas. ¿Es eso siquiera posible? Me mantienen despierta estos incansables pensamientos, corriendo a kilómetros por hora, yendo y viniendo; no hay un real propósito a sus gritos, pero lo hacen. Gritan, ríen, vociferan, recordándome que no tendré descanso esta noche. Burlándose, mostrándome imágenes de una mejor noche, mejor día, mejor semana, mejor año… No estoy triste, no realmente. Estoy nostálgica. Melancólica. Recordando planes y metas pasadas; preguntándome cuándo me separé de ellos; cuándo empecé a viajar por el camino que me trajo aquí. No me arrepiento, no realmente. Siento curiosidad. Sed de ese conocimiento: “¿QUÉ PASÓ?”. ¿Cuándo dejé de reconocerme en el espejo? ¿Cuándo empecé a mirarme al espejo? ¿Cómo no lo noté? ¿Fue acaso tan sutil el cambio? ¿Lo quería, inconscientemente? ¿Me perdí a mí misma? ¿Me encontré a mí misma? ¿O me reinventé?... ¿Quiero volver a lo que había antes? A veces dejo de girar y girar y sólo… recuerdo. Pienso en cada uno de los insignificantes y efímeros momentos de la más pura alegría… y risas… y sonrisas. Solían ser muchos. Mientras me hundo más y más en este nuevo tiempo, en esta nueva era, rápidamente se van perdiendo, aquellos más lejanos. Los extraño. No las memorias en sí, sino la forma en que me hacían sentir. Tan libre e imprudente… y joven. Con esa característica sonrisa e inocencia que se ven en los ojos de un niño. Extraño sentirme así.

I’ve dreamt of our reunion. We haven’t even said goodbye yet, and I’m already dreaming of the next time we see each other. It was nice. We were grabbing some coffee, and walking down the street, to a nearby park. We sat on a bench. And we just…started talking. “Catching up” We had grown. Both in age and in spirit. We weren’t those (these?) kids always fighting to get the upper hand. We just were, and loved it. I think it was the first time we saw each other since I left. It didn’t matter; there were no awkward silences or uncomfortable moments. You started the conversation. Asked me what I had been up to those past 5 years. You still thought of me as that naïve, innocent girl. You were surprised by what I was telling you, but your reaction was not a bad one. For the first time, you laughed with me, and asked more and more, instead of getting mad at me. It felt nice. And then, I woke up. I didn’t get to ask you anything. And now, I wonder. I wonder what it is that I could have asked. I wonder what would you have told me (the truth, like always? Or would you have lied? Is that “truth” the same as it once was, or is it a different reality the one you live in, like I always hoped for you to have?) It got me thinking. Do you think we will always have this? This easy-going relationship, where we just laugh our eyes off and enjoy each other’s silences? I certainly hope so. Because, no matter what may happen now, I know I’ve had a great time with you.