A New World for Both of Us

My daughter is growing up and I'm starting to learn that all the clichés of the angst of a pre-teen kid are somewhat true. We were both driving the other day and she chuckled, I immediately asked her "what's so funny?" To what she replied, "Oh, it's an inside joke mom." I wanted to let her know that is not how you usually apply the term "inside joke" but I didn't want to annoy her. She used to share all her thoughts and wishes with me. I'm lucky though, she still shares a lot with me, I won't complain. Our few arguments revolve on me not letting her have the freedom she wishes to have. Like going shopping with her friends with no grownups, wearing make-up or going to sleep at a decent hour. I think I will miss these days when the arguments become about boys and parties, but I'm not there yet. Her biggest argument is "The other parents let my friends do this or that." It's true some do, but most don't, and when I tell her that she rolls her eyes and walks away. One of the battles I have chosen not to fight anymore is the one of a closed bedroom. "Fine," I said one day, "you can close your door but never locked, I can walk in your room whenever I want to and that includes looking in your phone as well."

Today she was remodeling her room again and after she was done she went downstairs to watch some TV. While in the bathroom I couldn't find my favorite nail polish and I went inside her room where I often find many of my things, from clothes to beauty products. And there I saw what she was working on, a world map with pins on it. Clear ones marked the places she has been with me or her dad and red ones of places I presume she wants to go to. I looked at the map and it warmed my heart,” how sweet” I thought. I could see her traveling to all these places and it made me smile to know she had a curiosity to learn of different cultures and people. I then realized she missed one she visited with her dad, Costa Rica. I grabbed a clear pin and pinned it for her. As I did that a red pin fell. "Oh no," I thought, "where does it go now?" I picked it up and looked closely. Brazil had a whole in it. "Perfect! It goes right here." I said while pinning it. But it just didn't slide in. As I pushed it harder I noticed the red pin had just been painted with nail polish that was now all smeared in my fingers. This sure would look bad if she walked in while I was messing with her map with my hand full of red polish, proof of my nosy deeds. I heard her walking upstairs so I pinned it on an angle and left the room giggling like a preteen myself. I quickly walked in the bathroom and grabbed cotton to erase the guilty red on my hand with nail polish remover. "What are you laughing about mom?" She asked. "Oh, nothing” I said, “inside joke." I finally got what she meant in the car. Sometimes it's nice to keep our private thoughts just to ourselves.

An Adventure Worth the Risk

I've been thinking about you a lot and it feels good. On a bad day, craving reassurance makes me wonder what to make of this and in a good day I can see us flowing into and towards destiny with ease. Good days are prevailing though, propelled by a wave of love and passion, lots of passion because I can't stop missing you and it feels amazing when we are together as one. Perhaps that is what being in love is. Maintaining that delusional state that trusts all will flow into place. Because it feels good and it fills my heart with joy that overflows outwards. And maintaining that delusional state is all we can hope for. Because it means that no matter what, one person in the world gets you and has your back. Regardless of your flaws, one person believes in you and will not drop you when things get tough. I've been dropped before and it broke my heart, but it didn't break my spirit and while mending myself I realized the person that has my back has to be me. Because you can't force someone else's heart and free will, and wondering is self-inflicting pain. You can only wish for the best because as much as I might wish for someone to fill my heart with joy truth is no one else but me can finish that task. The reason why my heart broke in the past was because it was not whole to begin with, that missing part made a weak heart that yearned for a filler. I'm afraid to admit I find myself sometimes yearning again, perhaps driven by old time insecurities that are hungry for reassurance. But do not fear, this time I won't fall back into the rabbit's whole anymore. It's impossible because I'm not the same person. I don't let Cupid on the lose these days. I now understand is not his duty, but generous as he is he has given me his tools to complete my quest. With a whole heart I plan to attend love's battle-field and seek for true love once more. That is an adventure worth risking it all for.

*Psyche and Cupid-Louvre Museum

A Sucker for Second Chances

Getting back together with an ex is not easy to explain specially if you have traveled that road before. Friends used to offer advice now they just find themselves out of words. They either keep silent and just offer a "well that's good." The more sarcastic ones say " you know where that road leads." The truth is no, I don't know. As no one knows where life would lead them to. I can only guide my decisions with how I feel. All my body screams "this feels good this time, he feels different and I know I am." A friend that falls into the sarcastic category told me, "You've said that to me every time you've gone back with him." Maybe she is right because every time we were indeed different, second chances come disguised as wonderful opportunities to redeem or fix our wrong decisions. You can see it her way or mine, it all depends on how your instincts perceive it. If you let the cynic in you step in, your mind will make sure to find old insecurities and fears and line them up one by one to recreate what proved to be the demise of the relationship.

It's like going back to basics except this time I want to give second chances a real shot and even though I don't expect people to understand right away, I am looking forward to seeing them understand it eventually.

There is no Place Like Home

There is one place I want to always go back to, that is home. Home is no longer my birthplace. I am enjoying the gift of being back in my country of birth after five years and it has been a wonderful experience. No matter where I go to, even if it's a place I enjoy, what is now home always calls me. The city where I live is not a perfect place. I still have unfulfilled dreams there and not everything is as I wish but I'm building something of value and I am grateful for it. Like Dorothy in the land of Oz, even though her hometown was not perfect she was faithful to where she felt she belonged, what she proudly now called home. And she made it back there but like everyone after a journey she grew to appreciate her world even more. And that is one of the gifts traveling bestows upon the lucky ones that dare explore the world. The gift of gratitude and appreciation for what is ours, now distant and far. Sure we enjoy every second of the journey but if we come back with a grateful heart it only makes us better. Gratitude is the biggest miracle worker and pouring it towards home brings the colors found during the journey into our lives.

A World Built out of Memories

I grew up in South America. The month after graduating high school I came to study in the States and eventually decided to call it my permanent home. Twenty five years have passed from the day I stepped into a plane and flew towards my new life, one full of wonderful experiences. I am back in my home town after five years without visiting, Much has changed since the days I lived here as a child and traveling back always brings back memories, the air, the food, its people. Feeling love from my friends and family is never a difficult task over here. One feeling also comes back, that is my childhood world, but not the one I'm describing of my beloved hometown but the one that lived deep inside my mind as a girl and still lives somewhat dormant within, where my vivid imagination created characters and great adventures. My imagination was my safe place and I never felt lonely while there. My fantasies had created a parallel world that involved faraway lands and exciting adventures. Funny how coming back has ignited another parallel world that I suspect was just patiently waiting to be awakened by the little girl in me. In this world I am still a child, my home is filled with the joy my siblings and whole family brought out in me. Here nothing has changed, my grandmother tends to our garden, my room still holds my toys in place. I enjoy my big home oblivious to the fact that it would one day be sold and I would never see it again. Happiness rules this scenery and the not so happy memories have mysteriously vanished. This magical land is very much alive somewhere and its a very sweet reminder that it is always there in case I need a safe place to run to.

Lonely Mountains

Traveling back to my country has been a remarkable experience, especially the road trip I took with my family. We left the coast towards the high lands to our final destination the high part of the jungle. My niece lives there and we were eager to visit her and meet her husband and their baby girl. While traveling by car through the highest peaks I heard the mountains talk softly to me. The high land mountains and the jungle ones all said the same. With sorrow in their voice they explained how they resent the roads built on them. That was not the deal they said, our guts were cut open and our faces slashed in return of giving people the joy of experiencing the nature of their land. But instead cars pass by eager to go somewhere but they don't stay. We yearn for people and want to hear their laughter and excitement; instead we just receive car pollution spread on us in a rush. That is why we are not ashamed to admit we steal souls for joy. We command distracting exotic flowers to grow by the edge of cliffs, we create fog to blind driver’s eyes, snow from the highest peaks are at our command to release its furry upon traveling cars. All our efforts are not in vain because we aim to invite as many humans rolling down to our feet. But don't fret, we promise a peaceful departure down in our arms. Our sweet traveler's decayed bodies have led us to the souls that remain. And when they wake up they stay because we, the highway mountains offer all you can dream of. It's a shame it has to happen this way but if we catch you, you will be thankful we did.

The What Ifs

I found them in an old filing cabinet. There it was, deep in my mind, surrounded by antiques and covered by a veil of dust. Hundreds of files full of what ifs. What if I would have not come to the US? What if I would have gone to New York instead of getting married? What if I had not met him? And there they are. Alternate endings actually do exist. In some dimension I am living in New York or still live in South America. I wonder why my mind keeps those files anyway. These alternate endings are a waste of time. They only exist to torture us if there is still a part of us that regrets the present. I don't. With a grateful heart I know I would not change a thing.

The files of what ifs are there just to remind you that those possibilities are still present and are very much attainable. OK, maybe I have no desire anymore to move to New York or go back to to live in my home town but the sentiment attached to those places are very much still desired by me. Home equals happiness and the idea of family. New York equals the type of success I once dreamed of. Those hopes still live within me no matter what age. And how about the what if I had not met him? I am sure life will give me a chance to meet someone I can write a new chapter with no what ifs. Because what was is exactly how it was meant to be and as long as I learned my lessons I wouldn't change one thing.

The Journey

    Acting season is over and disappointed I saw missed opportunities to work. I was getting used to the idea when out of the blue my agent called me to tell me I booked a job. It wasn't the job of my dreams but it gave me a taste of doing what I love again, if only for one day. I played a socialite that is in the market to buy a yacht with her husband. She is recently married and is in a hurry to have kids. He on the other hand is not in a hurry at all. Even though they both come from rich families she is money conscious and wants to stick to their budget, He goes with the flow and is willing to pay more for the yacht he falls in love with.

In my character's shoes I felt the joy of being in a relationship. This episode is not only about showing the couple's rich lifestyle but it is about compromising and seeing life through your other half’s glasses. I missed that feeling. I wanted to be there again, to accept someone with an open heart so you go beyond what makes sense to some. It’s important to put your fears to the side while you do this. I want to experience that, perhaps for the first time ever. Unlike my character I probably will get there without the expensive yacht but I want to set sail towards that journey. Sure there could be days where is sunny and warm but other days will prove your strength with high choppy seas. After all no one can predict the weather for sure and no one can predict where a relationship will head to. It is very important to get in that relationship boat knowing that not all days will be calm, being in love is knowing that even in rough seas what keeps you in dry land is allowing to ground yourself in one another in order to enjoy a smooth sail together once more.

Little Cuties Rescued from the Castles of Spain

    My ex-husband Sean and I decided to travel before planning on having a baby. This time Spain was on the horizon. We went to so many cities including Barcelona, Jaen, Seville, Madrid, all by car. It was a wonderful trip. We decided to stay in Paradores, hotels that were once castles, gorgeous pieces of architecture, full of history. The rooms were wonderful and each city was such a different castle and experience. The food and the service were superb as well. Like in every hotel they had tiny bottles of shampoo, conditioners and creams. These little bottles were particularly cute so I decided to take some from every Parador we stayed at. Needless to say at the end of our long trip I had a bag full of them. 

And so like every good or bad experience the end of our wonderful trip had arrived planting us at the end of the line of our airline counter to get back home. While in line a lady came with a list and asked each one of us for our passports. When it came to Sean it was no problem, out came the blue passport and the lady smiled. When it was my turn out came mine from a South American country and the lady looked at me and then her list. "I'm sorry, your country is in our list, follow me please and bring your luggage. You too sir." She said. We grabbed our bags and followed her. Sean shaking his head looked at me smiling. I smiled too; I knew he would tease me for this later on. We entered a room; a lot of people were waiting for their bags to be opened. Sean's turn came and they found nothing suspicious. My turn came and out came my stuff and with it a bag fell with little countless bottles spreading down the floor. Needless to say Sean could not control his laughter shaking his head again. I was blushing hoping for a portal to swallow me back home to Miami. The guy looked at me; sure he found no drugs, no threatening terrorist devices but boy he found a little sneaky thief. I said nothing to him, looking down the floor like a little school girl. Those tiny darn bottles got me in trouble, but they are so cute I couldn't resist. So now that I have my blue passport when I travel the world again I can take a few of the little bottles without fearing ending up in that same room again.

Oscar has left my bedroom

I have a poster in my room. It's of an Oscar statue next to a bunch of black and white pictures of famous Oscar winning movies From Casablanca to Forest Gump, movies we have all seen and loved. It's the first thing I see in the morning when I open my eyes and it inspires me to think that one day I could be up there holding a golden statue for a film I've written, produced or acted in. It serves as a daily reminder, like Jim Carrey and the check he carried in his wallet for a million dollars to his name way before he reached stardom.

Dreams are wonderful but if they prevent you from loving your life as it is now they could be those sneaky stealers of joy within. I remember my ex-husband Sean once telling me, "I am afraid that if you don't find some kind of success in acting you will never be happy." A dream should fill you with the joy of anticipation, success and better times to come. If your dream is preventing you to acknowledge the blessings in your life as it is now maybe it is time to re-think it. Not forget about it up but reorganize it in your mind and life to create space for more joy.

Today that poster is going down. Is not that I'm giving up on my dreams, not at all. But I am leaving behind the idea that I need that piece of the puzzle in order to be happy today. 

Let it Shine!

What's a good time to start dressing your age? Even if some people eagerly tell me "you can still pull it off;" I've asked myself that question after comments of other more sarcastic ones during the past decade. I love fashion and I want to keep on having fun with it hoping the fact that I am in my forties doesn’t prevent me from sending my RSVP to life’s trendy party. 

At one point in my life I wanted to study custom design for theater and I would dream of the day I could pick outfits for my characters. I wanted to show who they were right from the start, before the audience could even hear them say one word. Because first impressions are everlasting and this morning something peculiar made reflect upon that thought even more.

I was ready for work, making myself a quick breakfast while my preteen daughter watched one of her teen shows. There she was the pretty main character. Not a day older than 18, wearing my same outfit. Well, probably more expensive but pretty much the same. My daughter Amber said, "Look mom, she is wearing your outfit." I was ready to head out to face the world dressed like a teenager. I had no time for another fashion show so I decided to keep the look hoping I did not regret it.

To my surprise that day there was not one person who failed to compliment my outfit and how I looked. I wished so much I would have worn a more sophisticated one after seeing the teenage star on TV. But that day I did not feel sophisticated, I felt young and free. To me fashion is a way to express myself and how I dress is how I feel. So if lace, sheer and ruffles adorn me I most likely feel romantic and dreamy. And when you accept what you are within there is no way of hiding it. So now I say, no matter your age just let it shine!

Shoes: Vincent Camuto

Purse: A/X Armani Exchange

Skirt: Forever21

Blouse: Marshalls (Brand:Fire)

The Yin and the Yang

    When I was about seven years old I liked a boy that lived around my house. His name was Gio, he liked playing with my sister and I. One day armed with valor I sent my sister, who is three years older than me to ask him if he liked me. Gio replied he liked us both. "Both?" Asked my sister Fiorella terrified of her findings. "Yes!" He replied excited. It was the first time and the last a boy came between us.

My sister and I are best friends and we are a true compliment to one another. I was always shy and she was quite the opposite. I was not much of a good student while she thrived at school. I was sweet, she was funny, and still is. There was no envy between us though. I liked her light and always wished I could one day shine as bright as her. 

Years later destiny brought me to faraway lands and we were separated for the first time. I remember as a kid, if faced by a challenging situation I would always look at her to see her reaction; her actions dictated mine. She was my compass and I followed her through games and everyday life. When alone, in a strange land I had to follow my own beat. Build my own compass and create a north for myself to follow.

Destiny was kind and it grated me a gift; today my sister and I live in the same city and our daughters play together like we once did. The laughter, silliness and friendship continues now close again. We are like the yin and the yang. Energy that bounces back and forth and flows with ease. In his few years of life Gio was wise, because he knew in order to like one you had to like the other one.

The Mysteries Behind 11-11

The Mayan calendar was supposed to bring about the end of the world, the apocalypse finally reaching modern times. And although some believers prepared for it, just like Y2K nothing bad ever happened. It's been some years after the mark of the Mayan calendar and some say it was just the start of a new dawn. The era of enlightenment; in which we will awaken to our true divinity. Our life's purpose will feel clear connecting us to our higher self who will guide us straight to God with ease.

Many believe the symbol of this new dawn is the numbers 11-11. Why? Numerology perhaps? Metaphysics? Angels? I'm not sure yet. Maybe it's like a safe combination to the portal that is taking us to higher grounds. I decided to make my own investigation in order to come up with a medley of 11-11 messages that make sense to me. I consulted the books that had been present at different times in my life; The Bible, always there since my days in catholic school and The Course in Miracles, book that helped me forgive and move on during my divorce.

I grabbed the Old Testament first and looked at book 11, section 11. It talks about Solomon and the temptations of this world that make you stray from God. I did the same for the The New Testament and looked for book 11 but there was no section 11, so I counted the sections within the sections till I reached 11. What did it say? It talked about finding all your needs met in Christ while keeping a grateful heart. Last but not least The Course in Miracles. Chapter 11, section 11, talks about the Holy Spirit, who is the voice that guides you directly to God.

Without trying to impose my results to anyone, I will proceed to mix it all together to come up with a combination that works for me. I have to admit this is a strange experiment but I conclude that my combination to unlock enlightenment is the following: In a world full of temptation keep Christ in your heart with a grateful heart and although is not always easy don't worry there is help. The Holy Spirit, is here to guide us so we don't stray. I plan to use this combination in the hopes to unlock the wonderful mysteries of life. But I will be honest with you, if all answers were in front of me it would not be as exciting. The thrill lives in my quest to keep on being the scientist of the mind body and soul. Conducting strange experiments that I hope will one day unlock some of the mysteries and miracles that surround us every day.

Our Modern Day Super Hero

I was back at my old job and everything seemed surreal in a good way. The familiarity with the people I held dear grew deeper and it seemed as if I never left. I've been in love with fashion since little and during the days I studied fashion design working in a place like this was all I dreamed of. The unique line I work for combines both passions I love; fashion and art. Our dresses are all hand painted over sheer fabric. Making women all over the world walking pieces of art that accentuates their own beauty and uniqueness.

Back in the office and far from the runway we were having issues with our network. As it usually happens in a world were electronics are king we have become dependent on the modern day super hero; the IT GUY. Our hero is Frank. He is an all American boy, with blue eyes and blonde hair; he grew up in the mid-west eating mashed potatoes and fried chicken. Although he has lived in Miami for quite some time he brings an aura of the old fashioned world I have only seen in movies. Spreading it around with his hero cape.

Today, amongst other things our printer has lost connection to the server and in spite our efforts to reconnect it just did not worked. In the fashion world a color printer not working is a huge emergency. It was time to call our super hero again. Our office was full of girls and we all turn into Louise Lane when he arrives. We wait for him with a list in hand of issues with our computers, list that has been waiting for the day our hero lands. As we see him fix each problem like magic we all bat our eyes. Frank is cute but if he weren't we would still be in awe. Technology is a mystery to most and when you find someone who can fix it all, although you pay the price you still don't let that hero fly away.

Related story: Fashion vs. Film

Super Hero Pants

    I was working as a plans processor visiting the City of Miami Beach Department almost daily. Plans processing was my permanent job before my daughter was born and I worked until the day I was ready to pop. People at work thought my water would break anytime and my energy would hit me in waves of strength that quickly faded into exhaustion. After Amber was born I stopped working and became a stay at home mom. I was the perfect mommy, the crafty kind that was obsessed with Martha Stewart. My divorce quickly shoved me back into the work force doing what I knew best, plans processing. My old life was quickly fading away and my previous job had changed quite a bit. Technology took over building departments making the job of a plans processor less needed. I still had some accounts and I would do it part time, making a lot less money. Plans processing was the kind of job that required a lot of waiting next to either other plans processors or contractors. One day while waiting I met a plumbing contractor, he was sweet, kind, and really good looking. We started talking and soon I recognized him, he worked in some jobs with the construction company I worked for. He said he was about to start a new job with them and since I ran errands for them he asked for my number to keep in touch. We exchanged them and soon over the next week I was delivering some work supplies to him.

His company was small, in fact it was just him, there was no office, the deliveries had to be made to his apartment. I parked the car one morning in front of his place and knocked at his door, it was still early. He opened up with no t-shirt on and superman-pajama pants. He looked like he worked out daily, maybe hourly. He invited me in for coffee to which I replied with a kind smile, "no thank you." I handed him the supplies and left. As I drove away I tried to recover from his superhero abs. Soon I received a text from him, thanking me for the delivery and urging me to stay for coffee next time. To which I replied with a kind "you are welcome," and then added, "nice pajamas." Comment that was enough for him to put the kryptonite away and ask me out on a date.

We went to the movies and Sushi. At dinner I casually asked him his age, to what he joyfully replied "twenty three." I almost choked on the spicy tuna roll and looked at him in shock. I promise, he did not look that young. "I have nephews older than you." I replied in shock, "I'm thirty seven!" He could not believe it either but he did not care. Of course! I thought to myself, the cougar thing again. These kids don't care.

Yes, if you are curious to know we kissed that night and it was a great kiss but I couldn't see myself with someone so young and now that I'm in my early forties I don't regret it but remember it with a smile. Eventually he stopped trying to convince me to give it a try with funny, sweet texts. And well, I moved on to dating someone around my age. So wherever you are Superman, I hope you are making your Louise Lane very happy.

The Long Overdue Birth of Isa

    Today's dating world is far different from the one I left behind when I married my now ex-husband Sean. When destiny managed to dissolve our marriage I was almost forty, with a daughter and back in the dating game. It's hard when your life is shaken upside down and all you are left with is a manual on dating circa 1980s and 90s, when land lines and answering machines were the norm. And so my divorce opened up a world I had not visited in quite some time; Miami night life.

I remember one night my dear friend Sandra asked me to join her out; she said she felt like dressing up. I went to her apartment to get ready with her and we chatted nonstop like we always did. It was particularly fun to dress up with her since she is the spiritual kind and a club is the last place you would find her at. We walked to a nearby venue to celebrate the birthday of a very well-known casting director. The place was packed, swarmed by twenty somethings. My friend and I were in our mid-thirties and even though we did not look it I felt the weight of it. I mostly felt it by my desire to be anywhere else but there. A guy started talking to my friend. He looked so young; I giggled knowing I would tease her for it later on. That night mingling brought about brief meaningless encounters and Jeffrey could have been one of them, tall, cute and really young. What on earth could this kid want to talk with me about? I though. I was getting ready to kindly dismiss him with a smile except his words were kind of interesting. "Which one would you pick?" He said. "Which one of what?” I replied. “Sorry." I said with a dopey smile, "Can you repeat it?" He quickly replied. "Einstein said, There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. Which one are you?" "Oh, that's easy" I said with pride. "Everything is a miracle." I felt like I had just won a game show and he was about to hand me the keys of my brand new car. "And you?" I enquired. "I’m still figuring it out" he replied. And just like that I was talking to a kid in a club, strangely having a great time. "What's your name?" he said. "Esther." I said "but you can call me Esty." "What? No, that name doesn't suit you." He said. "Well, truth is I never liked it, it's my mom's name and she doesn’t even like it herself. I said while continuing, “I love my middle name though, Isabella. I always thought it would be nice for people to call me Isa. I wished I could change my name, but… " He interrupted. "Yes, I like that; I'm calling you Isa from now on." I smiled and that night I found myself giving this kid my number after he asked. He did not called though, he texted. Last time I dated there were no cellphones, let alone texting. I quickly replied to him writing that I was at least ten years older than him but it had been nice to meet him. He was surprised about my age but he did not care. Another difference on today's dating, newsflash; cougars are in now. “Oh, I said, ok let's go out then.”

Our dating was brief, like a blink of an eye. I never got used to the cougar thing; the few times we went out I really hoped no one I knew would see us afraid of being judged. Truth is nobody cared or even looked. But I have to admit the real reason was dating helped me not feel the divorce I was going through back then. I was terrified to deal with the real pain within. Jeff was meaningful though because although he was young he is an old soul. A unique kind of person you can spot a mile away, in this case in a dark smoky room, and notice they are special without even knowing them. Even though we never kept in touch I know he is really happy with his soul mate and that warms my heart. I do have to thank him for that night inside a very typical Miami Beach club a not very typical new me was born. 

The Hunters of Good Within

Jane Eyre is one of my favorite novels. During the time of the Brontë sisters most novels were written by men. A female was mostly written from a male point of view. Ms. Eyre, written by a woman was one of the first female characters that opened up with so much passion and honesty about her romantic feelings. She not only tells Mr. Rochester what she feels for him but she dares to express love to someone above her station. My favorite quote from Jane is: "Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!"

The honesty in a woman's voice was heard and it was so loud it rippled through decades opening up doors to so many more of us who dare talk about what deep love loss feels like, any type of it.

Today I was praised by an old friend of mine after he read some of my stories. He said, "It's really interesting to see someone open up like this." He wanted to know if they were fictional or not. To what I replied that the characters are some real and some made up but yes, mostly based upon my experiences. His enquire came the same day a wise woman advised me to write from the heart, no excuses or exceptions.

In a world that strives for an image of perfection I have chosen to sometimes talk about the moments when nothing seems perfect. Finding the beauty in them makes it all worthwhile. Like Charlotte Bronte and the many who on a daily basis strive to follow her lead, I write as honestly as I can. Because in order to BE, all of me falls in the equation. And with it I hope to one day inspire some of us to be the hunters of good within.

Related story: The Alchemist

What's in your Fortune Cookie?

I was not ready to let go at least not yet. Drew and I had decided to try things again as soon as he came back from his business trip but as days went by I realized my chances were slim. He had not texted me or called during the whole trip. I had not reached out since I decided to give him some space to find out how he felt. His silence was clear coming from a guy that showered me with texts and calls daily. He was not the quiet type. I missed our conversations, sure most of them were very silly but I liked his humor and it always pulled a smile from me. I felt disappointed at myself. I replayed what I could have done differently so many times it was sickening. On one of those self-inflicted torturous nights I ordered Chinese which was the typical option when my daughter Amber was with my ex-husband and I was too depressed to cook. 

After my meal it was time for my favorite part. At least I have my fortune cookie, I thought. I opened the noisy wrapping with excitement. What if it said “love is around the corner” or “he will call, don’t worry”. Not that I’ve ever seen a message like that but anything could happen. I cracked the cookie and to my surprise, there was no fortune. None! That had never happened to me in all my years eating Chinese. I was doomed; no fortune was the worst news. I took a pause to reflect. Or was it? What if no fortune is a blank slate, a new beginning, although this time it would be me calling the shots. I decided I was not going to let any outside event shape my fortune. I would give him time like I had decided but in the meantime I owed to myself to be happy being me. I might not be in charge of my destiny but at least I’m in control of how I react to it and that is exactly what I was planning to do. It was an exciting new dawn and I did not need a cookie to break the news to me.

Related stories: Back to Second Grade, Flicking Channels

Striving to Remember

My friend Ines is experiencing the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s disease. Back in the day she was a very successful theater actress, gracing South American stages north and south. Now, she visited my acting workshop and critiqued us actors in inspiring ways. She was a good friend of our instructor and quickly became friends of the students as well. I would pick her up once a week for our workshop because ever since she got diagnosed she decided not to drive anymore. During the rides together we chatted of pretty much everything. She was a true testament of perseverance. The day she found out about her condition she did nothing but mind exercises to delay the process of it. She played board games, crosswords puzzles, memorized lines of plays, anything to keep her mind sharp. Together with medication she was seeing positive results and had better memory than I did sometimes. I always joked with her about it, making her smile with pride. She told me once that the hardest thing was forgetting details about the ones she loves. She looked at old family photo albums daily and tested herself on the names of all her loved ones. She feared the day she would not remember them at all.

Ines suffers from a dreadful condition she has no choice about. But it made me think of how often without realizing it we sometimes wish for the same. We hope we had never met someone now long gone or wish for some painful memories to vanish into thin air. Hoping a swift backwards brush stroke could take the bad and the good too, leaving the canvas blank once more. I have to admit I wished for that once while still wounded. I did it out of necessity in order to feel myself again. 

Even though wishful thinking did not grant me my wish, time was delivering it to me. Suddenly I couldn't remember some details of us anymore or things he used to say. I still remember though how his nose wrinkled every time he was about to tell me something painful that he wanted to hide behind a smile. And now I feared that one day I might forget even that. Memories wash away and the details that make someone stick to your heart start losing its grip. It is part of moving on I suppose but like my friend Ines I can't help to fear for that day. Now I wish time would not steal so much from me because I know somewhere while the wounded strives to forget the brave strives to remember.

Sally's Bow

I remember watching the Oscars one year like we always did with the whole family in the TV room. We all loved movies; we watched them at the theaters of course but also on a device called VHS. This device was like a big cassette player but instead of music it would play your favorite movie on the TV screen. It also came with a neat remote control tied to the apparatus by an umbilical cord, the latest in technology! Every weekend we would go to the mall and enter a store with a library of cassettes displayed wall to wall. I think it was then when my love for American movies flourished.

Fast forward the VHS of our lives and Sally Fields was accepting a golden statue. "You love me, you really love me!" While the actress gave the speech with excitement I remember my mom being as excited as her. Not with the speech, but with the stylish necklace that graced her. It was a diamond link shaped like a delicate bow. It was elegant and sweet, just like my mom. From then on every time Sally would get taunted for what is now a famous acceptance speech; I remembered my mom and wished I could surprise her one day with one like it. 

Today my mom turns eighty. She is a warrior, having looked at cancer in the face she stared at it defiant and healed herself with a smile. While recuperating from it she made friends with patients, doctors, nurses, everyone in her way. Of course that illness doesn't define her because that is how she has carried herself all her life. There is no circumstance in this world that would stop her from spreading her contagious joy. I wish the necklace I got for her on her birthday was made of diamonds. It is not, it is a delicate silver bow, one that carries all memories we have with one another. And like a sweet bow our love is intertwined forever.

Slap Jack

    My daughter asked me to play Slap Jack with her. We had a session of several card games, where I have to admit speed and luck favored her turning me into what resembled a preteen sore loser. "You cheated" I screamed. "No I didn't, you are just slow!" She replied. Having moments like this with her were priceless, she was growing up and the days where we would spend time playing with dolls in her playroom were long gone. Her Barbie house was now turned into a bookshelf, a daily reminder of shifted interests that everyone growing up journeys.

Amber asked me while beating me at yet another game. "Tell me your deepest secret mom." To what I replied "I don't have any." She added "Well then tell me your biggest problem right now." I said "I really need to concentrate on beating you, not now." "Well then I'll keep on talking about Marcus." She said. Marcus was a boy she passionately disliked at school and I had heard how much she despised him during the whole entire dinner. "Ok, ok." I said "Fair enough, we can talk about Marcus again later." I really was at a point in my life were things were good, I was content but there was one thing that was bothering me lately so I thought I would share it with her. I said to her, "Well I have been first optioned for two national, big brands commercials recently and somehow I didn't end up booking them. I don't know why? Maybe I messed up this last call back? I wished I knew why they did not go with me. And the money was great also..." As she beat me again, while shuffling the cards once more she said. "Wow mom, you have no problems." I looked at her, took a small pause and laughed out loud. While she set the cards up for another game she added "Let's go back to Marcus."

That night while I prayed, I thanked God for all I had. Looking at what we don't have is a mistake we often make but not me, at least not that night. That spring evening laying down on my bed a smile came from deep inside of me while I counted all my blessings.

An Embrace of Hope

    Insomnia struck again. I remember lying down on my now ex-boyfriend's bed looking at his hung paintings. It was a pastime of mine to drift to the depths of his mind plastered on canvas at night. As I was drifting away perhaps to dreamland my journey was abruptly interrupted by the ring of a phone. I dislike the kind of news that noise in the middle of the night could bring. This time they were indeed grim. Mathew's best friend Gerard had passed. 

I met Gerard one afternoon at the airport. I was joining Mathew for a family reunion at his dad’s house on the mountains. Mathew sent Gerard to keep me company since he was running late; afterwards the three of us would drive up the mountains together. The first thing Gerard said when we met while I gave him one of my warmest smiles was, “you make sense.” He said one look at me and he knew I was Mathew’s girlfriend. I knew who he was as well; kind souls recognize themselves at a glance I guess. We shared one of Gerard’s favorite things, a couple of nice cold cocktails at a Mexican restaurant in one of the busiest airports in the country. We chatted and laughed, he made me feel at ease before meeting Mathew's family and made me feel that way every time I would see him after that. That night I embraced Mathew in my arms as he cried his soul out, his heart was broken and for a moment he let me hold it in my hands. 

Like the alchemist I aspired to become one day I tried to turn his grief into hope. But I knew that would come in time. In the surreal world I created for him while holding him in my arms I wished one day he would heal the loss of his friend. Maybe then he would feel the imprint of what another friend left that night with a true embrace. 

The Alchemist

 

    Right before Sean and I divorced I went back to college. I wanted to finish my bachelors, having only an associates in fashion is not enough I thought. Unfortunately I could already smell grim days with him that peaked at me from ahead. I was afraid I would never find a job in fashion in Miami so I decided art history suited me. How much I would love to work at a museum or a gallery surrounded by beauty. That is all I wanted then, to be surrounded by art and the different worlds artists plaster on canvas. Every class with Ms. Whitman was a trip to those worlds. A dark room and a slide show, I loved her lessons.

I had Amber with me that day since she was still a bit under the weather. Ms. Whitman was strict but very understanding when it came to having my daughter attend her class on unusual situations like this. Pushing a stroller with a toddler into the room would always come with stares of twenty something kids that probably felt sorry for me. Amber loved this class, sure it wasn't her favorite cartoon show or Barney but she was mesmerized with the paintings as much as I was. Aside from the random question here or there she understood she had to keep as quiet as possible, like a mouse I said to her. With a sippy cup in hand and cheese crackers on the other, she was ready for the show. 

The class was Women Artists and today we visited the surreal world of Remedios Varo. I never thought such beauty could reside inside anyone's mind. Her imagination was wild and she gave us a visual trip for generations to come. Each painting was a dream, a fantasy world that although sometimes scary I wanted to be trapped in. I hope one day to leave my inner world for people to navigate as well. Like the many paintings on alchemy of Varo, to turn the mundane into beauty and try to make sense of pain by attempting to turn it into love.

A True Friend

    My brother was in so much pain to see me that frail he could not say a word but the voice of reason knock on the door right then. My good friend Fernando came to my rescue as soon as he saw my SOS text. "Sean asked me for a divorce." That is enough to send a true friend directly into your doorstep. I wanted that divorce as well, it was eminent but the pain I felt that day over his request was as sharp as my body ever felt. It was final, we had reached the point of no return and crossing that last bridge was hard, I admit.

Fernando is a social worker; he works as a counselor for troubled kids and he has been graced with the gift of knowing what to say in moments like this, bringing light into darkness. He had seen the roller-coaster of emotions I had gone through since Sean moved out and knew this last chapter would lead to other more positive ones.

With a loving serene voice that characterizes him he told me, "Is like I tell my kids, imagine you have an open wound and you touch it over and over, it will not heal. Trust and you will watch time make it better fading away." Sitting on my living room couch, while I cried, my brother's love held my hand on one side and Fernando's words gave me hope on the other.

If when we die we see flashbacks of our life, that would be one of them. Not of me crying over Sean, instead of the love my brother and my friend brought to me that day. I knew my family would be there for me always. But some friends become family when they see you at your worst, unable to walk they hold you tight to make sure you cross the bridge safely.

The Lovable Loser

At one point in our lives society expects us to give up on our dreams. When you are a child people ask you what you want to do when you grow up. Most of the time they will smile and even encourage your answers. Parents will even brag of your cleverness while at the neighborhood's barbecue. "He wants to be an astronaut." "Mine says the president!" "How about yours?" "Oh, mine? A famous singer." Pride in our eyes, we want to believe anything is possible for them.

But if we skip like children and land on our forties, well is not so cute anymore. In our twenties we still get encouragement for our dreams. Our thirties are crucial for all the hard work put on our twenties start to pay off and if your twenties were devoted to catching a dream, well that means another decade of the same scenario. That was pretty much Micaela's predicament. Another decade of chasing the dream. With a child and a divorce in some baggage held in her unconscious mind she was still after that phantom goal. Some of her friends were lawyers, architects, business execs and she; well at least she had a good job. But she noticed how talking about her passion was not an interesting subject anymore, people changed the topic of conversation, they politely smiled and she started to be seen as the dreamer or even worse the lovable loser.

When did society frown upon her? Was it in her twenties or her thirties? Or is it now in her early forties that some can't understand the fact that she still chasing it. Society wants to slap her in the face and say, "It's over Mila, you did not make it. Give it up and be like us. Put on your daily mask and go out there. Hide your God given gifts so deep inside no one will see them. Don't worry; we are here to help you bury them." I wonder how society will take her in her fifties and on because Mila is really not giving up. She owes it to her herself and her daughter, she owes it to society for one day some might follow the lead of a lovable loser.

                                     

Related stories: The Witch, the baby, a Queen and her Militia of Termites, Dreams do Come True

The Witch, the Baby, a Queen and her Militia of Termites

    I had fallen into a deep spell. My mind did not want to think anymore and that is what sometimes happens when things don't go according to my plan. It wasn't my fault, when I was a baby, a witch cursed me at the hospital where I was born. Thinking she had been cheated by God she was full of revenge in her heart. Witches are very loving people you know, at least at one point in their lives they were. But having had a lifetime of unfulfilled wishes she one day cursed God for the talents she got. "Why would you give me these talents with the promise of success and then close every door in my way!" She screamed so loud it shattered her soul into pieces. She was angry and it consumed her being. Driven by jealousy all she could think now was to steal dreams from others, her loud screams became a high pitched victory laughter every time she completed an evil scheme. Her new one was to deplete any new soul the chance to succeed in their passion. Why should anyone succeed if she was not granted that wish?

As she walked into the hospital room full of some sleepy and some crying babies she spotted me. I looked at her and smiled. "Boy, the stories I can come up with you!" Thought my baby mind. At that moment she slid her wrinkly hand on my head and said. "Your soul will be intoxicated with fear and deep insecurities every time your dreams encounter rejection to the point of non-action. You will fall asleep into a depression of the soul and mind and no one will be able to save you." A screeching laughter followed, that made all babies cry for hours.

Today, I had fallen into that state of mind again, all I want to do is sleep. While sleeping in bed I was attacked by a militia of termites. They swarmed all over me but I could not hear them in spite of their attempts to bug me. They decided the only way to help me was to turn me into one of them in order to wake me. There, on my bed I became a tiny termite waking up by a sharp command. "Wake up!" The colonel said. "Who are you?" I said. "Stand up! Our queen summons you." I did as told and walked in with them into the guts of my house. I suddenly had a strange appetite for wood but they didn't let me get some, not even a snack. They seemed in such a hurry. I walked into a gorgeous and well carved wooden room, resembling rococo columns from the 18th century. There, in front of me was the queen, sitting on her throne. "Come child" she was sweet and kind. "I hear you've been sleeping quite a bit." She said to me. "Yes, I guess so." I said shrugging my shoulders. "Shouldn't you be writing and creating? We like you better when you are productive." She added. "I can't help it, you can't help to eat wood and I can't help to let insecurities eat my soul, it's a spell." I said. "Oh I see, you are just suffering from a spell" It's nothing." She said laughing. "Oh no, the witch said it could not be broken." I told her. "Of course she did, that's what all witches do, they lie." To what she added, "Wake up and go out there, no matter how you feel, don't stop. Learn from us, we are so tiny and we have already eaten quite a chunk of your house!" She said with excitement. The militia clapped. "Little by little, one day at a time." She added kindly. "Ouch! What is that?" Something bit my arm." I said. "Don't be silly child, you are a termite now and we don't have arms." Said the queen. All the soldiers laughed. Ouch! I hit my arm so hard this time, I woke up surrounded by flying termites. "It’s time to tent the house again." I thought with a sigh. 

Termites got me out of bed that day and the days to follow because they eat wood and I make up stories. No one can stop us from doing what it’s in our nature. 

Dreams do Come True

I want to act, act, act. All I want to do is act. I dreamed of my acceptance speech one day up in the podium. Ask and you shall receive right? I prayed and asked for it many times. I wonder when my miracle would materialize. Since little I saw stories in my head and I was always the main character in them. Today my fantasy was interrupted by a voice that said, "Ms. Olivieri," it was the math teacher. "Come to the board she commanded." "Oh no, why me? If only I could be invisible during math class, how much fun would that be!" In front of the board, chalk in hand I froze. The teacher scolded me while the class laughed. "Do you ever pay attention? What do you do in class?" To what I replied excited. "I think of stories Ms. Santos, far more interesting than your lessons." She looked at me straight in the eye. "Go to the office" she said. To what I replied with sincerity. "No, I mean it; I'm not trying to be mean. Want to hear one? You will love the one I am"...she interrupted abruptly, "To the office, now!"

Going to the office again for the same reason, daydreaming. "My mind won't stop," I told mother superior. "If anything we should talk to God right now. He made me like this you know, is not my fault. He does show up for chats often, let me call him." I said. That day my mom received a warning note from school. But I wasn’t lying; it was true! God comes to me for chats and sometimes a scolding. I know I'm in big trouble when he shows up with Jesus and his mom. A bit like an intervention from above. 

One night not too long ago I was intensely praying the rosary, almost in trance and there they were. "Oh, hi guys I said, it's been a while." "Not really" God said, "you talk to us every day, every minute almost." "Not every minute" I said. "Between the three of us yeah, kind of, that's including the angels and archangels" he added. "Oh cool" I said, "so you are all in contact?" "Yeah, we are all part of the same network" Jesus said. "Honey," said Mary, "we know you want to be a successful actress, we are working on it, I promise." "Really? I knew it! How exciting!" I screamed. "When?" I added. "All in time child," said God. "We can't give exact dates you know, there is free will all around, it's complicated," he said while he shook his head. "The day you get an exact date is coming from down there said Jesus," pointing to the floor. "Oh, ok, I get it, I get it" I said with a smile. "Listen take it like this, imagine someone planning a surprise party for you. It wouldn't be fun if you knew when right?" God said. "Well I guess," I said. "So just wait with faith, didn't you go to catholic school, they never thought you about faith?" Mary asked. "I don't remember school much" I said, "It's a bit of a blur." They smiled and turned around as if they were leaving. "But wait" I said. "Actually I was praying the rosary because I have another request. Oh, but before, thanks for Amber Rose, my family, friends, my job, etc...Ok, are you guys ready? I want to be a writer also." "What? Micaela! Common" they said in unison, "you have us working full time on this case" said Jesus. "We are going to have to get reinforcement. I will call the Holy Spirit now, I'll make an appointment" said Mary. "Guys, settle down" said God, "is not a big deal, we will just have to pull a J-Lo, that's all." "Of course!" They all said and chuckled. 

"Relax Mila; we are pulling your leg!" "Ohhh, that was funny," I said laughing. "I know said Jesus; we are practicing our stand-up routine for the yearly talent show. Whitney, Sinatra and White are judging. Anyway, it’s us, you know we can do pretty much anything you wish as long as it is infused with love" said Jesus. "Just keep on praying, with faith," he winked. "Your dream is on the UPS truck. No, don’t ask for the tracking number"said Mary. To what God added, "but while you wait just have fun with life, enjoy and love, love love!"

                                           

Related stories: The Witch, the baby, a Queen and her Militia of Termites, The Lovable Loser

Flicking Channels

I didn't mean to hurt Drew, I really end up hurting myself. I preached about letting go and yet when time came to do it myself I couldn't seem to shake off the past. I wanted to, so much but I just couldn't. Even after the mourning period is over one seems to hold on to the scars. Over the years they fade away but while visible there are constant reminders of what could happen.

I felt as if Drew was going to leave right from the start. Even though he used to tell me "I'm not your ex," my ego was certain he would eventually leave me. I treated him poorly at times I admit. It was as if I was watching the main character of a movie mess up without being able to do anything but change the channel and that's exactly what I did. I changed it abruptly at only 15 minutes from the start. I could not handle it. This time I really liked someone and it was too much to take.

I've been single for almost a year now and for the most part I've been alone but I did watched some good guys come and I let them go without getting attached. This time it was different, I got attached but I noticed it too late. He had been hurt as much as I was, forgiveness was not going to come easy from him. For the first time I had regret, the same kind my therapist Dr. Steinberg warned me about. I decided to give him time. People always say that if it is meant to be then it will. It sounded like a good plan except that is a mission with someone with little patience like me. How to turn regret into possibility? I was about to find out...

Related story: Back to Second Grade

Back to Second Grade

Drew lifted my spirits and I liked that about him. I've never been with someone that made me laugh so much, all the time. He kept his charming silliness most of us put aside when the sarcasm of teenage years grabs us by the mood, dropping it when experiences of adulthood scars us. Not that he lacked those experiences but he kept that childish charm alive inviting the little girl in me out to play every time. 

I was with my boss at an event hosted by the richest socialites who had fallen in love with the clothing line I worked for. My boss was wishing a partnership with them and we had clothed our future to be partner and her daughter with two of our current collection cocktail dresses not available for sale yet. The view of downtown high rises on one side and water on the other was stunning. The catered food was spectacular as well and at one point I made more eye contact with the server than with any of the guests. I had emptied my drawer of clever and polite chit chat with strangers and I was ready to go home. Except my boss was very much a people magnet, she had the gift of telling fantastical stories that were a crowd pleaser. I would have gladly been part of her audience once more; her stories about her homeland always changed a bit and for the better. But something about the food's taste was so familiar. And there he was, the server again, he looked at me and knew he had to come my way or I would hound him. By the time he would get to me though there was not much food left so he shrugged his shoulders knowing at that point I had only two interests food and champagne. The waiter looked at me and with a tilt of his head I knew I had to follow him. I did, straight to the kitchen where the loot was. I figured he was going to show me where the goodies were before they end up belly up inside the hungry socialites.

As I entered the kitchen I was greeted by Drew, the chef. He handed me an apron without even looking at me. "I've been eying you, if you're going to eat that much I better put you to work. Here, you will need it or you will stain your dress." He said this with a charming smile while helping me with the apron. "Will I get any champagne?" I said. "Of course!" He uttered with a chuckle, "its part of our contract." "Good, and can I also have a bite?" I said reaching to a tiny piece of food. "No," he said slapping me on the wrist. "You've been gobbling it. Look, he said as he placed one bite in my mouth. Taste it, don't swallow it," he smiled. I did, and the flavors took my whole senses hostage. How did I end up inside the most elite kitchen I've ever seen, helping the most handsome chef in town, laughing away with a complete stranger I felt I knew forever.

The chef was right; champagne was part of his contract. From that day on Drew would come over to my house with a bottle of my favorite champagne and cook the most amazing meals for us while I accompanied him in the kitchen. Scottish father and a Dominican mother, the flavors of his heritage bloomed into his cooking, Watching art come from his hands and into our palates was a gift. My kitchen had never been graced with such love. He laughed at my silly jokes and I loved his second grade flirting style. With him the silliness never stopped. "Stop it! he used to say while I tried to grab food before it was ready. I'm going to have to pull your hair," he cried. To what I replied laughing, "is that how you got your girlfriends in the second grade?" "Still works right?" He laughed. "Yes, so I'm going to have to pull your nose as punishment," I said while sipping on champagne. But it did worked, I'm not ashamed to admit it. It did from the second we met because two second graders in a grown up party will always end up playing together.

Related story: Flicking Channels

A Doll's House

Larry, sweet, perfect and successful somehow found me more attractive and clever than I even believed myself. A talented photographer that got lost in the world of fashion and drugs during the eighties and had found a way to build his life back once more. His battle scars: two divorces and two grown kids that barely knew him and highly resented him at one point of their lives. He had paid the ultimate price what led him to become clean and sober long enough to have seen the love of his kids blossoming again for him. 

Larry would show up at my door step for every date we had with a big bouquet of flowers. A big contrast to his cool urban look. He had lived fast and was not mesmerized by the flashing party lights anymore. He wanted to settle, he liked me and made no effort to hide it. It was all I ever wanted and asked for in love. Yet I felt like running to the hills as fast as my mind could take me. Dr. Steinberg says patterns like this are formed in childhood. I don't recall ever telling my parents after getting a present I had asked for months on my Christmas list, "mom, dad, thanks but no thanks. Even though this is the Barbie three story condo I've been writing on my wish list for years, after careful consideration I have decided I can't have it. I really want it but I am not ready for it. Please guard it safely until further notice from me."

Come to think of it I never got that Barbie three story condo. My dear friend from childhood Milly got it and I would always go to her house and look at it after we played. Sure I got a real beautiful mansion with lights that would beam from within, I'm not complaining but it was not Barbie's condo. Far away from memory land I let Larry go and I hope I don't regret it one day. Maybe the girl inside me should be happy with the wonderful doll house I got for Christmas instead of dreaming with the Barbie three story condo inside Milly's bedroom.

Related story: My Muse

My Muse

Why do girlfriend ask silly questions? "Baby if we ever broke up would you like to be my friend?" "No," Mathew said providing no extra explanation with his typical sharpness. To what I replied appalled, "Why? I would like to be your friend, why won't you?" I was really shocked at the clarity of mind he had on the subject matter. "I have no interest in keeping friends with an ex," he added. His worlds sounded so final. As if I asked a man if he would share the last cup of water with me instead of with his thirsty child while stranded at the dessert. That night I tried picturing what my life be without him. I had gone through a divorce once and as hard as that breakup was I had little in common with my ex husband Sean. He is not an art lover like Mathew and even though Sean went with me to many art related events there was none of the passionate feedback Mathew and I shared for art, music or even food. I would sure miss him I thought, emotionally of course but I would also miss the deep friendship and companionship we shared. 

Fast forward time and after breaking the space barrier I found myself holding a bunch of dresses for a photo shoot of the designer I work for on the streets of a busy art district in Miami. There, in broad daylight I saw Mathew like an apparition, not alone but hand in hand with a girl, prancing inside an art gallery. I recognized myself in her, that was me long ago I thought. Mathew and I were not in contact. He meant what he said and there was deep silence after our break. Part of me wanted to walk in the gallery and casually bump into them for a quick friendly chat. But the part that glued my feet to the sidewalk with a stupefied look on my face left me static. Time seemed to have stopped except there was a faint mosquito buzz on my ear breaking the illusion of my split heart. "Excuse me are you lost?" He said. "Go away and shut up." I mumbled. "Pardon me?" He asked, while blowing smoke from his mouth. I turned around in slow motion . My face was distortedly idiotic. Even more so when I realized my mosquito was a perfectly cute guy. Interesting man I rather say, with salt and pepper hair and the kind of deep wrinkles that unfairly look better on a man than a woman.

He introduced himself as Larry, the fashion shoot photographer. "You look like you need help with those dresses" he added with a cute smirk on his face. He was the kind of guy that seems like he doesn't care but his look is very much well studied. "I'm sorry" I said while looking at his adorable smile. "Yes, if you could help me that would be great. Silly me I thought this was the space." I said pointing at the gallery and hoping for my ex and his cute flame to stay inside. "No, he said but you are close, it's right next door. I just came out for a smoke. My last one." he said while stepping on it proudly. "Really?" I laughed while he held the dresses for me. "I've decided right now. You've inspired me, like my muse." He said, "Wow!" I flirted, "I've never been anyone's muse." "Well I've never quitted cold turkey so it's the first for both of us," he said while smiling. Walking into the space I though how hard it is to find the shadow of a memory happily walking by but in that bittersweet moment that smile made the task a lot less dreadful and one can get used to that.

Related story: A Doll's House

Like a Teddy Bear

Dry witted Sean is affectionate and sweet? What?! That is what I thought after my daughter Amber said to me that her dad and girlfriend are the most loving couple she's ever seen. A robotic style smile came out from me. Sean and I had been divorced for years by now. I genuinely love him like family and I can honestly say I want his entire happiness to come to fruition. His girlfriend seems nice and level headed unlike the plethora of girlfriends that paraded over the years. I was happy for him but that remark hit home a bit. Affection was one of the things I almost begged from my ex during the years together. He was never able to do it much. He had other positive traits. He was witty, ambitious, he showered me with gifts and we traveled the world before Amber was born. He was also hysterically sarcastic and very charismatic. Nothing seemed impossible in his mind and I felt safe with him, protected and loved. I was not crazy passionate with him though, I discovered that kind of feeling after my divorce but one can love deeply without it. 

Sean was my first boyfriend; I married him before I could legally drink at my own wedding. I was very much in love with him and I constantly fought for us to grow emotionally closer. To hear that he was practically a teddy bear with his girlfriend was unexpected. All this time I thought it was him who didn't want to open up but maybe in all our years together I didn't inspire him to do so. It was time to ask my therapist. No, not Dr. Steinberg but my hair dresser, who knows me better than most people. If I ever go missing please refer to him. He would know exactly where to find me. He once told me, "When you find a person that complains about their partner lack of love you usually have to look at the one making the claim." He was wise, It's a basic principle of spirituality. It takes two to tango, you get what you give. I was left without a husband years ago and maybe it was time to revisit what happened again. Healing had flourished regarding my divorce and I didn't feel like a victim anymore. Now I wasn't afraid to take an honest look within and find out what kind of love I held away from him. Because if I kept it in then it was still inside of me waiting for me to find, unlock and release.

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