I have been dragged into opening each and every one of my emotions these past days, and facing them head-on has been extremely intense. It feels as if different versions of myself, from all the times I have existed until now, have gathered around me, demanding to be deeply analyzed. My incredible and wonderful brain does not like that discomfort, so I start looking—where, where, and what, what I must do to avoid facing it. It feels like having to open all the doors and all the windows to let it in and consume it naturally—to consume it, to scream, and to let all the human irrationality in me, all the wisdom of my soul in me, along with everything I have experienced so far and everything I want to experience, happen in the same place, now.

My soul leaves my body while I sleep, and it returns because I remain alive. And God, God, how much I love being alive! How much I love feeling all of this, continuing to evolve, continuing to learn, continuing to grow. Love. I adore my human form, I adore my Latin American beauty, I deeply love how alive I feel, everything I have been until now, and everything I want to become. I love the movement of my body and the nakedness that wraps me when I am alone in my room. For two years now, I have had my mattress on the floor, trying to make minimalism out of it, with very few material things as decoration in the apartment I currently inhabit and a lot of space to think.

I think about the ways I have related to other human beings. I think about where I have been coming from and I ask myself how present I have truly been in those interactions. I ask for absolute forgiveness when, consciously or unconsciously, I have hurt others. But I am also allowing myself to forgive myself first because I understand the imperfection of my existence as an opportunity to keep evolving. I also know the extreme beauty I have given and how my intentions have always been good.

What am I doing here right now? I keep working on gratitude, I keep trying to take full responsibility for myself in every possible way, I keep trying to recognize my mistakes, ask for forgiveness, let go of what I must let go of, move forward. But in the process, it hurts. It hurts because it is about throwing myself into the unknown, and the unknown and I have been meeting for 26 years now. So, it is a way of life at this point. But how much growth, how many new ways, new perspectives on life, how many places seen, how many people encountered, how many words exchanged, how much love, how many new dreams, even another language in the process of being conquered.

Never, never, never, never, never would I change anything that has happened in my life because all of it makes me who I am. I am trying to remain brutally honest from my inner world to the outer world, even in those moments when I have been extremely intense, confused. I learn, I learn, and I want to do things better. I want to become that idealized version of myself, for myself.

I have dug through the places of our conversations, I have revisited the moments in my memories of that movement I shared with you, what I felt. At some point, I wanted to stay there forever; at some point, I wanted to believe in it. But you cannot create something real with another human being when only one person is pouring everything they feel from the truest place within. And I absolutely respect all the processes and everything in your life that brought you to who you are now. I ask for absolute forgiveness if I was that constant demand for you to understand how I see life and everything that had to happen.

But I wanted to get close because, in the beginning, I asked you why you were interested in me. You said it was because I had a different perspective on life and you wanted to know it because it was unique. And that made me want to let you in. But then, in the end, you said we were too different, and I simply did not know who you really were in front of me. But I know it was real on my part. The way it happened, I know it was real on my part. And that is my responsibility.

Perhaps we are existing here from different places.

I am addicted to feeling. I am addicted to feeling this reality because this is where I am living now. So, I was there. I was there in that movement, watching my body in the mirror while you were holding me so strongly. I took care of that, in the time that it was. I meticulously organized everything so that my attention was on that movement of yours. And then, I had to start tearing myself away, because what you were giving me was making me feel like I was drifting away from myself.

I still have not truly learned how to surrender myself to another person. I am absolutely obsessed with surrendering to myself. And although I now believe in the power of committing to a shared existence with a man, I need someone who is willing to truly see me. Beyond how my human form looks, beyond their social beliefs, beyond their own convictions, beyond this planet we inhabit. Because death is a Russian roulette game in my face every single day, and I want to feel truly loved. And I also want to do that for the other person.

Is your soul still there with you?

ACCEPTED – TRANSCENDED – I SUPPOSE – I AM STILL PURGING THIS SUBSTANCE FROM MY BEING.

«Darkness will never win, but neither will the light. We must find the balance between them.»
— Elizabeth Gilbert