Hello, dear readers.
Well, for my first “real” post (I don’t think my first one really counts, since it’s mostly an introduction to everything else) I will take this one to speak about my life.
And about feels you may also know… Bro.
Last year a new part of my life began. New school, same stuff. Listen to teachers, study, learn, make an effort, study and learn more, make a bigger effort, and get grades.
Oh, and socialize. Whetever I liked it or not, sooner or later I had to meet and speak with my classmates. One can’t just live isolated from the rest of the world. Yes, even if, like Orson Welles said, love and friendship are just illusions, socializing is an important part of my life to keep myself sane, at least for a moment. I do belive it is a positive illusion.
Something I was never very good at. But I will save that for another post.
Either way, I haven’t been making any real friends. I’m not sure if it is because of how I look or If I’m simply too much of a dumbass, but at least I know I can only blame myself for it.
I do belive one of the main causes must be because of how weird I look like to my classmates.
I just don’t seem to fit into any space in society. Ugly, socially awkard, cold (Well, at least when around acquaintances), distant and mostly drowned in my own dreams are just some of my problems.
Maybe that’s the reason why I love space so much. It seems to be the only place where I feel there’s “space” for me.
I could spend the rest of the post bitching about how much I suck, but that isn’t the reason that lead me to write this post, neither.
She is the reason.
Wow… The drawing ended up worse than I thought. Even for “Cyanide & Hapiness-like stick persons with heads and trunk” it is awful.
Anyways, her name is Inês. I remember the first time I met her… I didn’t felt in love with her or anything. In fact, I only saw her as “another brick in the wall”. Just part of the landscape, another distant person I would never really know.
Maybe another biatch who takes 200 pics of herself in front of the mirror making a duckface and posting to her Facebook, naming them with something like “OMG i is so silly <3 luvyo so many BFF diz pics is for you”.
I didn’t knew what she was exactly. I just thought she was no one special, and that sooner or later she would just fade away.
This is the moment when some guy obviously asks: “But dood, is she pretty or sumthin’?!”
Yes, she is gorgerous… On a very particular way.
A perfect face and body. A curly hair. And a smile who doesn’t get out of my mind.
But it wasn’t her exterior beauty what captured me. It was something else…
… And I guess that something else started during a Philosophy class. We were going to do a paired exercise, and since my “deskmate” wasn’t there and she was alone on a table next to mine, our teacher sent me to her table.
We both did the exercises the teacher assigned, without speaking much to each other. It was only when we finished and the lesson carried on, with us still on the same table, that I noticed a “new” (At least for me) trait in her: She was extremely participative.
Every time the teacher said something, she would “strike back” with another well-said argument. Whatever was the situation, she seemed to have the perfect answer, or at least a good question.
She is a brilliant student. Or well, at the very least, she knows what she’s saying.
After that day… I’m not sure why, but she captured a certain space inside my brain. My thoughts about the future, the ISS and global domination would often be interrupted by what I could remember from her smile. And before I could control it, I found myself constantly thinking about her. Indeed, it happened. I took an arrow to the heart.
… Know what? Screw the cupid and those Skyrim dudes, bullets are manlier. Yes, I took a bullet to the heart. I think it sounds better that way.
Either way, it happened. I was in love, again.
I’ve already felt in love for many girls in my life, but they all ended up cold and distant or revealing themselves to be idiots. I can say I never felt in love for the right person… And she seems to be no exception.
Why isn’t she the one? Why don’t I just invite her for a coffee or something? Well, because, every time I find a great girl who isn’t an idiot…
… There is already a boyfriend.
Yes, I rarely speak to her IRL because they spend most of their time together. Usually, the classes or the short minutes before the classes while waiting for the teacher to come are the only exceptions to that.
In other words, I was left unable to do anything about her. Not because of me, her or her boyfriend, just the simple irony of fate. It was vital for me to forget her.
But how can you forget someone you see nearly every day?
And who still dares to throw you a smile through times? Even if accompanied by a single “Hi” or “Bye”?
May that’s just part of a trauma? A trauma for being “different”? And therefore, for being a ragdoll for most girls I’ve met in my life, one who is just simply nice to me feels like a change?
It didn’t matter much, either way. She was way too distant from me. And once again in my life, while people around me were having fun and loving each other, I just sat back and watched, while the wall kept building itself around me. Like if it was all a movie, as if I could only be the spectator instead of living it.
And I just kept watching it.
Until I made up my mind.
I knew it was going to be in vane, and it wouldn’t do much. But I had a shot to, at least, say “those feels”. Or, at the very least, write them down.
It was the day before Valentine’s Day. And, as usual, there was the typical “Put here your Valentine letter and we will be sure to deliver it to her and humiliate her in front of the class!”.
I have no idea of what passed through my mind.
But I did it.
I made an anonymous letter for her, with “I LOVE YOU” written with a black marker in enormous fat letters and under it “I’m sorry” – Mostly because I knew how pissed she could have been. I made it anonymously because I thought she would immediatley associate the retardness of the letter with me, and therefore it wouldn’t do much telling the obvious.
After that, I don’t know much. In the next day, during the moment when the letters were delivered, I only understood that she seemed slightly intrigued by the letter. Maybe I heard it wrong, but it sounded like some people asked her who wrote it, and she said she had no idea. I didn’t even saw it, mostly because I know that it could have been suspicious if I turned around and looked at her… And eye contact would have killed me on that moment. Seriously.
I’m not sure about it, but I think she spent some time thinking about it. I remember that, during the Physical Education class right after the class received the letters, she seemed to stare at me for a while… Like if her eyes were blaming me.
After that, I felt like she knew it all the time. That day, I didn’t said or asked her anything, but on the next day, I couldn’t resist declaring it through the most coward way ever: Facebook. I didn’t even start a normal conversation with her. I just went straight to the point, since I thought she would have been thinking about it the whole day: “… Yes, it was me.” And the conversation went something like this:
I was wrong. At least it seemed like she didn’t gave much of a damn.
Either way, I still wanted to tell her the truth. And if I’m doomed to be unable to say if face to face (Or even Facebook to Facebook), I thought it would have been softer to write it all down this way.
Accompanied by dumb MS Paint drawings.
Get it now?
Was it worth it?
Yes, this last pic is unrelated. I just felt like I had to put in one last drawing. Whoever knows Chamillionaire and what a “rolling thunder” is will get the joke… Anyone?!