She is lying on the kitchen floor, trying to articulate words that form coherent sentences to answer my question. Meanwhile, I try to drink water to hydrate myself after having wine while working on my computer at a café, attempting to concentrate. I’m not sure if a glass of wine after having coffee is a good combination. After a while, I ingest a pill of mushrooms grown in the United States, designed to enhance memory and concentration. Later, I mix something to soothe my emotions. Normally, I live 99% of my human experience in the most natural way possible, but there are moments when all of this feels overwhelming. Today has been one of those days.

I am drying my tears after our call. You say you’re seeing someone else, and honestly, at this moment, I don’t know why I’m crying, and I don’t care. The connection we share is so intense that I no longer find an explanation for it, but I know I must let you go now. We are not doing well. It’s been almost two years since we first met, and I feel that this served its purpose, especially since February of last year.

I must let you go, even if it hurts to the bones. I need to do it because being close to you now only causes confusion and imbalance, and I don’t want to be near anything related to that. Go and live your life. I don’t want my emotions to be affected by your decisions. I need my energy for my own life.

Although your words don’t seem to be in sync with your actions regarding what you say about us, that is no longer my concern. I see you almost all the time in my mind, and over the past year, you’ve interrupted my process of leaving you behind with flights to come see me. You grasp me tightly in any room and capture my entire youth with your moving body. I could die in bed with you, I could because you make me feel so alive, but the price to pay is one I am no longer willing to assume.

I have tried to involve myself with other faces and bodies, but it seems like I am looking for in them what you made me feel, and I can’t force that connection. So, I force myself to be with myself. I no longer know what I am feeding my brain about you. It’s just my body with replicas of the intensity of our union. I can’t even talk to people close to you because I’ve told them that I have moved on.

I called my mother the other day to tell her I felt strange being single. She said I should get married again at 100, that I was not a homely woman, that I couldn’t stay still. Then she added, «You should enjoy and experience your life, devour the whole world before seeking to stay in one place.»

I am analyzing all this in the days after this current week. I find myself in front of three computers at my desk, doing calculations, and speaking in two languages ​​at the same time. Concentration has become increasingly difficult lately. I spend too much money on unnecessary things because of the anxiety of wanting to do so many things at once. My sleep schedules are a shame, sometimes I eat, and there are days when I only eat once a day.

Honestly, I thought I would reach 25 with more wisdom and calm. Although I know that deep down all that is present, what I am experiencing this year is a new and heightened sexual appetite. It’s hard for me to concentrate, and I’m not actively looking for a relationship right now. I just want to be able to focus on myself and what I’m doing, on what I want to achieve.

I’m seeing men in a different way. As if I questioned what the purpose of being with one is, beyond reproduction. I feel capable of everything as a woman, and that energy is so strong that I feel it tightly grasped. I am eager to continue discovering it.

Americans, for the most part, seem to be so absorbed in work that sometimes it feels like they have forgotten to feel life. I receive numerous messages in my private social media inbox, and the invitations to go out seem to follow similar patterns. Where are the men with personality and originality in all of this? Society feels so individualistic, and although I am speaking their language, it seems that beyond words, my tongue is not understood. I mean the soul.

I understand the dynamics of the capitalist movement, and I am participating in it here, trying to comprehend a complex system with its organized structure of excellence. However, I don’t want to forget that this human experience is temporary. So look into my eyes, don’t be afraid to feel it all, because that’s what we came here for.

I am naked before you, and I can feel you trembling without even touching me. I am on a bed, offering a whole spectacle by embracing what makes me feel be a woman. You’re there, watching me in awe. I need you to take me tonight until I am breathless for a few seconds. Take me beyond life and bring me back complete to it. I won’t stay with you forever; I’ve said this is temporary. You would have to do something truly extraordinary to keep me close to your breath, but you won’t do anything. It seems like you don’t even know what you’re looking for in a woman, or maybe you do, I don’t know. I don’t even really know you.

Will you manage to see me as I see myself? Are you calling self-love narcissistic? But why not do it when you are the only one you have and the only one who really knows how it feels? You can leave if you call this narcissism. What do you need to heal? Why do you want to be close to those people? Do you see it now? It’s never really about someone else.

I need you hear this: «No one hurts you out there, no one is responsible for your happiness, no one has the power to give you peace.» I wish that statement were true because if it were, finding the other would be easier. The fantasy of sporadic infatuation sometimes seems like a dream, only to wake up asking, «Who the hell is on the other side of the bed?»

It seems that love is something you also build and not just something you instantly feel. You call me to tell me you want me to be your wife, claiming that you had never felt what meeting me made you experience inside before. On the other end of the phone, I tell you that you are crazy, and you respond, yes, that you are madly in love with me. Then we both laugh because we are both crazy about each other.

It’s been almost two years since that first time we saw each other. You grabbed me from the first night, and I was yours for the first time. In my life, I felt that I was granting, with all the force of my existence, permission to surrender to a man, without any fear, with absolute confidence that we would etch eternity into our two young bodies in motion, leaving traces in the history of humanity.

I woke up the next morning, and while you were sleeping, I kissed your entire face. You woke up with a smile, and that filled me with a peaceful happiness. I felt like I had brought you back. Since that first night, I never wanted to interrupt any step of your own path. I wished for the happiness and fulfillment of all your dreams, the ones you wanted to bring.

You looked incredulous, unsure if what had happened was real. You did all the imagined madness to prove to me that you love me and want me to remain yours. But I find myself at a moment in my life where I am trying to self-develop as a human being in my own presence. So, what is the universe playing at? Was it a test that I managed to pass, bleeding from every pore of my skin?

Loving you was a double-edged sword, a chess game where neither of us could checkmate the king. We left the board scattered with all the pieces in disarray, and neither could find the strategy to conquer the other. It was never a fair game; the more we tried to get closer, the farther we moved away, and we did the same to each other. So, what were we really playing at?

Then you go to Portugal, keep spending thousands of dollars trying to buy happiness, and come back completely lost. I’m trying to help you; we both blind ourselves with «infatuation,» make love countless times, only to destroy ourselves and leave ourselves completely lost.

I scream inside the car trying to express how much your actions hurt me. You act as if I have lost my mind, then you approach and kiss me, making me feel so much that my tears mix with sweat. You say you want me to meet your family and travel to another country to introduce me officially. I say I’m not ready yet, but you leave anyway. I face Christmas alone in a new country, and I can’t stop you because you don’t belong to me. Love has never been about that, but you still haven’t understood.

I have spent an entire year alone with myself in my adulthood. I have faced myself, and the image has distorted. God speaks inside me, saying everything will be fine, but He also knows when I miss you.

Then it all ends with you. One morning, I tell you loudly that you need to leave, that I need my space. You leave angrily, saying you’ve done everything for me and you don’t understand what’s wrong with me, why I don’t want to be with you. This is so damn toxic, and I don’t understand the degree of sickness in my head to have been addicted to this back and forth with you.

You leave for Europe again and send letters and flowers from different countries, saying you love me and need me to come back to you. I’m ignoring you, trying to carry on with what I know I must do. Then, that pain comes on so strong, and it wakes me up confused many mornings. Sleeping seems like the only way to escape it. I’m calling you, but now you’re in Italy, dancing and eating pasta with a stranger, trying to show that you’re moving on.

I’m screaming in my room, crying and confused, wondering why a man who has done the craziest things to show me he wants to be with me is on another continent doing things that don’t make sense. I decide to block you, but you call from other numbers saying you’ll take a flight to come see me.

I see you landing in Denver, CO again. I run to see you, you kiss me hard, and I lead you to my room. We indulge in pleasure in that bed you bought for both of us, and the next morning, we’re fighting again. I feel like I want to run away from you, but you do it so damn well that I don’t know how to escape.

For seconds, in that view, our gazes reconnect, and I can see you in pain and full of rage. You’re so young and full of dreams that it seems like desperation is controlling you. When you’re in that state, I don’t know who you are. It’s as if something takes over you, and you want to destroy the whole world. Then, all the good comes back, and it finds a balance that allows you to keep breathing in your human body. I’ve seen your different faces, but I haven’t been able to love you in all of them.

I start screaming, getting angry with myself. You make all my hard-earned, conscious wisdom disconnect from me as I waste my energy trying to understand why the man I want to be with isn’t what I really need him to be. Then I leave you in the middle of the conversation and go for a five-kilometer run in minutes. I try to vomit out all the horrible that takes over me because it seems like you want to make me feel miserable.

I come back completely bewildered, and the world disappears. You consume everything absolutely from me at that moment, and when you’re not doing it for me, I’m doing it in you. I was in that for a whole year of my life, since you came back from Portugal, and I realized you hadn’t been honest with me. I wanted so much to be yours that I lost myself, and now that I’ve returned to my body, I don’t regret experiencing that madness because it made me understand that it’s not true love.

We were told we were too young to be in a serious relationship when we tried to make it work. We both met at 23. Screw everyone; they could never understand. We both became addicted to each other, dying to feel it more intensely each time. It wasn’t healthy, but it was a natural substance that triggered so many brain interactions for milliseconds that I wanted to stay in that absorbed state until I had to wake up and be accountable. The pain of walking away from you felt like a million bullets piercing through my skin, unable to feel any pain. I felt so much for you until I ran out of emotions. I felt, for several months after your departure, like an animated object with life trying to figure out where I had left my soul, begging it to come back to me.

I was in a completely new country, speaking a different language, and I had to ask you to leave so I could continue confronting myself. I know you were never the answer; you have no cure or power to make me permanently happy. Even if you had been good in all your faces and even in your shadows, you wouldn’t have been able to save me, and I couldn’t save you either. It’s something everyone has to do for themselves; awakening means taking responsibility for oneself. Welcome to the true reality.

I don’t want to die without having fully achieved my own self-realization from my own perspective, being the narrator of my own story.

I still wake up with that deep pain in my chest, and you have something that soothes it when I hear your voice, even though I know I’m just escaping from it, and you temporarily lull it to sleep. I have nightmares where you are present, and it seems that every time I return to you, you reach higher levels of destruction. I don’t know what’s wrong with my head that I come back for more, trusting as if miraculously you could be what’s in my head. You have no responsibility to be that, no one does. I also have no responsibility to be what others expect. In the end, each one, in their imperfection, is doing the best they can.

I’ve been trying to go to therapy so that someone else can guide me towards something my soul knows but I struggle to execute. That’s what happens: you can fill yourself with a lot of information and tools, but you have to do the work to use them effectively. I don’t know where I would start in therapy. I guess I would start by saying that I need to be able to focus more on this reality because in this simulation, most seem to be existing. But doing that would be like forgetting who I am, and I will never give that up.

The United States has made me feel anxious. I try to understand so much at the same time that my brain can’t relax. Every day I’m doing better, I just didn’t know it would be this much. I’m forcing myself at this point to be grateful. I immersed myself in 250 hours of yoga in 2023 trying to relax. Suddenly, I was speaking in three languages at the same time, and I could see my brain learning at such a fast pace as it tried to assimilate the information. The adaptability of the human being has a power that goes beyond all explanation.

Later that year, I experience Christmas alone for the second time. I don’t want to see my family at that moment; I don’t feel like I can bring presence to their lives while I try to reclaim mine. I go for a run of 34 kilometers completely alone in such a harsh winter that darkness falls before my body. Suddenly, being my own existence, everything becomes so perfect and beautiful that all pain and separation disappear, and again I return home, again I am one with the universe.

I arrive at my current apartment trembling, unable to feel my body, with my eyelashes frozen and unable to complete the full cycle of breathing. I undress to immerse my body in the bathtub with boiling water, mixed with Himalayan salts. My body thaws, and I return to this physical life. I can’t even share this with someone close because I don’t know if they would understand.

Why am I doing all this? What am I trying to prove? I feel like I opened Pandora’s box. I am facing everything that was so deeply stored, and I can’t even do it from an individualistic perspective because there is no character. Everything and nothing is happening, and I can see it now from an intermediate point, from which I exit and enter. All these emotions feel so real, everything is so full of infinite possibilities that, as my mother has said, I don’t know how to be still.

I have seen other human beings on the path of their evolution and consciousness, and when I am close to them, I feel safe. Recently, we organized a gathering in two beautiful houses in the mountains of Colorado, and being with them was like light. We all laughed, prepared healthy food, and I could see each one in their individual form taking responsibility for themselves. That is so brave, so inspiring that it gives me energy to continue.

One of them is crying in a corner of the huge house. She has a new Mercedes parked outside, all luxury brand clothes, and her body looks like a sculpture carved by the same one who designed David. She is so beautiful and has so many millions of dollars, but she is crying in a corner of the huge house because that was never the answer. So, she has decided, just like me, to face herself, erase everything implemented by others, to live from her own truth. She has decided to do it in her late 30s. While I’m here, looking her in the eyes, I tell her that everything will be fine.

I wake up the next day, take a yoga class, and then meditate. I feel the energy of my body levitating throughout the room, experiencing this sensation naturally. There is no invented substance within; I am truly in that moment, feeling it all. The snow outside is so high, and winter is at its peaks. Going outside feels like a challenge on those days. Inside, it’s warm, and there are people who feel like family. I tell them I am grateful for them.

I am living in a city in the United States where people are living on the streets, consuming drugs, injecting heroin into their veins, and it seems like no one is doing anything about it. There are people screaming on the streets, bodies with life but without any percentage of awareness. I haven’t known how to talk about this before because I have heard so many different things about this country before coming here. Although I try to see the light within all the darkness, I don’t know to what extent this can affect me. It is desensitizing me; it’s hard for me to cry now, it’s hard for me to feel empathy. They are also human beings, and I can’t even smile at them because I don’t know if they can still recognize that.

I wonder who these people are, what their stories are. What kind of freedom is this? While millions of people worldwide want to enter the United States in search of work and a better life because the systems in their countries are broken, here is another part of the population sleeping on the streets, completely disconnected 24/7, walking without any direction, crossing red traffic lights.

There are protests at the Capitol about Palestine, and my roommate leaves notes on the refrigerator telling me not to buy a certain brand of coffee because they are financially supporting war overseas. It’s a cultural and social shock that I am experiencing, trying to understand and process everything I am witnessing in this new environment.

What is all of this? What is happening in humanity today? What is our movement? It seems like everyone is so divided by politics, religions, societies, etc. Where is the true human embrace? Whose ideas are you championing, yours or someone else’s? It seems like no one is really still.

Returning to my own life experience and in reference to my most recent experience trying to love a man, I have finally managed to do so. In my heart, there is no longer jealousy, no longer anger, no longer control, no longer a sense that you owe me something or belong to me, because that is not true love. I have overcome all of that, and I love you, and it feels so beautiful that I can love you from afar without necessarily being with you. I wish for your happiness, I wish for you to love yourself before loving another human being, I wish for you to continue pursuing your dreams, to find peace in your nights before sleeping. I wish that when your soul detaches from your body, it finds no nightmares and that the light illuminates your darkness so you can see through it and transform it into a balanced union that allows you to see beyond your body and human limitations. I wish for your soul to return to your body in the morning upon waking and for you to feel excited to start a new day, so much so that you can be grateful for everything.

I hope you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, as I am doing now, and that you go out to love the world and others instead of wanting to destroy it, because whatever you do, you do it to yourself. The truth hurts, but it is said to set us free.