diaryofanotterriblebreakup

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

Millenial Hibernation

Went to bed at 12am, woke up at 11am feeling relaxed, rested, and aware that while it wasn’t 11 straight hours of rest, it was a much needed rendezvous with my bed. My body felt tired early, so we went to sleep. If only it worked that way everyday...But let me not be ungrateful, for I am not living now in a state of “not-enough”. Last night was enough, enough for me to know that it’s within me and my body to go to a state of rest when it is tired, weary, or just in need of a temporary escape to my dreamland. Speaking of, what a crazy set of dreams I had last night. I don’t remember all the circumstances, but I do remember that I was making a dangerous journey with my family. In one of the scenarios, I was in the water at night with my mom, dad, and a kid. It felt like a kid that was family, but not our kid, and not Diego as a baby. We were in a type of marsh or bay where we were swimming towards a dock to get up to safety. My mom was swimming! It didn’t dawn on me that she was swimming until after I came to a bit more in the morning. There was talk in the dream of staying away from the lush water-side because we know there could be alligators closer to there but we ended up making it to the dock somehow and first we got the kid up to safety, then ourselves. Must’ve been a dream set in Florida. The second scenario, which I’m not sure if it came before or after the water adventure was on a plane. A plane which I had to board in a rush with my mom and a kid, probably the same kid from the water. I see now that my mom caring for a kid in the dream is probably a representation of what a great mother she has been her whole life. My mother is an amazing mother. Anyway, back in the plane I remember it was a last minute ditch-effort to escape and we had to board the plane in a cargo-style area where there were no seats for us or even something steady to hang on to. My mom, the kid and I had to get up against the wall by the cargo ramp with the ramp open while the plane took-off. It was tense but somehow I ended up getting off the plane looking up at it with worry as it took off, realizing what a perilous situation my family was in. As I write this, I must take a moment of prayer for the families of all the lost souls of the Indonesia plane crash, which happened yesterday and in someway could’ve shaped my dreams.  I have flashes still of other parts of my dreams but I cannot be sure of what they mean.

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

Vibes

This morning I woke up with a buzz that resonated throughout my very being. It’s a feeling so beautiful, so real, that it feels auspicious in nature and immediately brings optimism and joy. It started with a great night of sleep after an exhausting day. I woke up next to Yosua, my beautiful mountain of a man with his uniquely boyish charm who asked to shut my phone off from making noise. It wasn’t my phone, it was his. I did see that I received a message around 8am from Stevie, a vocal coach to the stars, who is in Miami and wants to hang out. The message brought me joy and even temptation, for I know where these messages tend to lead if both parties are on the same page. A new friendship, a one-night-stand, an affair or relationship or just a distraction from the crazy world we live in are all very probable outcomes. But in the time of COVID, and with a partner who wholly satisfies my needs still, I know that at least two of those options are off the table. Still though, it made me feel wanted; and even more than that it put me in touch with a professional whom I admire and reminded me of my belonging in a society with a caliber of entertainers that I aspire to reach. I know that the magic of artistry and entertainment is within me. I feel the grace bestowed upon me every time I look at how much I’ve been able to do in my decorated career. But the most important lesson I got this morning was a reiteration that when you feel the magic it does not come from the mind’s voice. It’s a bubbling up of the grandest excitement and light and radiates from my being. It feels like from my chest area up to the tip of my head is resonating with a superpower that suddenly takes away all grief, all sadness, all anxiety and makes me aware that all will be alright. I’m not attributing this morning’s gift completely to Stevie—as waking up on a good day next to Yosua is usually enough to do it—but it happened to be his dm that helped this morning. The lesson I take is that sometimes we’re lucky enough to be visited by the spirit of joy and inspiration, while other times we must do the work to find it. I truly believe that the work is the most important part of it. I want to know the range of my talents fully and admit that I rely on my natural abilities quite a bit, but I call on the spirit to continue enlightening my path to my destiny. I want to be better, healthier and even more ready to show my full potential. May this pure joy, this AWARENESS, this TRUTH, be ever-present in my being, even if my mind and body get in the way  at times. 

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

Friends

In today’s society, it’s cool to be seen as anti-social and so selective with your inner-circle that the ones you actually let in would never deceive you. Being exclusive with who you surround yourself with is a trend people are catching on to. But sometimes you find new people who come into your life that you must allow the chance to make an impact on you, whether the impact ends up being a positive one or a negative one, only time will tell. I refuse to be a pessimist because above all else, meeting new people can infuse you with inspiration and even (re)awaken a greatness that may have been lying dormant; this is where I find myself now. After weeks of pain, shame, and the roller-coaster of emotions that came with my falling out with Vinny, I found a boy and his inner circle that have helped lift my spirits exponentially. A beautiful Venezuelan boy who I’ve befriended and connected with on an artistic and sexual level and who I’ve no intentions of letting go, and his masculine and easy-going cousins. Their unity as a family reminds me of the relationship I have and hold so dear with my own cousins. I’m realistic enough to understand that this may end up just being a beautiful friendship, but that’s ok. Our lives are busy and in different places, unified by the springtime in New York and an amazing point in our respective careers which few people could understand. I know there’s a whole world of unknown wonders underneath his sweet eyes and boyish demeanor, wonders I may never come to know but which I know exist. Wonders which I hope lead him to find everything that’s truly best for him and lead a fulfilling life. What I do know is that from the first night we met, on 5 de mayo—actually 6 de mayo—something beautiful began. We sang and danced the night away, drank tequila, and loved on each other’s bodies for hours. It was special, it reignited an artistic and sensual part of myself which I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Since that night we’ve had a Tuesday in Dumbo followed by dinner in Hell’s Kitchen and another dance party/jam-session on his cousin’s rooftop in the LES that included three other Venezuelans that I find appealing to be around. On the latter night, I went back to his Air BnB and I tasted every part of his body. I started to fuck him, and though he stopped me because he said he wasn’t ready, I could tell this was the way making love should feel. He swallowed me and confessed he wanted more. He wanted me to stay the night, but I couldn’t sleep so I went home. My adrenaline was through the roof and even after I got home, I couldn’t sleep. I pulled an all-nighter and have an insanely long day at work but it was worth it because a night of passion with a man like that is worth almost anything. 

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

Art will save my life.

All it takes is a split second of beautiful art to change my entire day. It could be the simple chord structure of a song—such as “Youth” by Shawn Mendez and Khalid, which played before I started writing, and which prompted me to change what I was going to write about—or a movie, or a book. My imagination has always stemmed in part from the moods created by art. Have I lost some of my magic because of my co-dependence? Have I sacrificed my artistic endeavors for the security of my relationship and the material importance that my HUSBAND places on our partnership? Like most things, there’s probably some truth to those questions that I won’t like; but like most things, it isn’t black or white and it doesn’t have to define my present and my future. It’s clear that I’ve grown to to rely on the physical comforts of having a partner and that I’ve achieved so many things with him that I once dreamed about. I’m grateful. I’m grateful. I’m grateful! And yet, it doesn’t change the fact that I was born different, I was born an artist. I was born to be myself and be comfortable in my skin even if it takes a lifetime to be comfortable in my skin. Even if me being me makes others uncomfortable. There is more to me, so much more to me that is being dampened by my own limitations. I’ve come to know now that the delusions of grandeur of the past me have subsided mostly, and that what I’m left with are in fact, not delusions at all. I have a dream life. I’ve been favored by God to see my dreams through fruition! To try with all my heart and soul to achieve them is my calling and I won’t be alone along the way. Everywhere I look I have examples of brave men and women who dedicate their lives to their calling, some achieving phenomenal success in the process and others forgotten by society, but most certainly not by the people who are or were lucky enough to witness their journey. My story is unique because I am unique. So far it’s been a damn good one. Now it’s time to make it truly my own. 

END ACT I

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

I’m not so terrible.

I LOVE YOU. It’s been years since I’ve felt like this. Days of overwhelming and almost crippling anxiety briefly set-aside during the hours that I shoot or work-out, only to be followed by a couple of hours of optimism and acceptance. Then comes the uncontrollable sobbing again, followed by the satisfaction of having purged my negative energy if even for a while. Convinced by the fact that after six years, we’ve still managed to fuck up in the same exact ways as forever, I sought counseling. You agreed you’d come with me, but then you forbid me to ever bring up the topic again so I went alone. I respect your decision. I still need to go; I still feel shame and anger, still feel as though I’m mourning the loss of a loved one. I still need to try harder to be the best man I can be. I fucked up. I hurt the person I love the most and I’ve never felt worse about my actions. It only took 10 minutes into the session to be convinced that I need to be as gentle with myself, as I’ve been with you. To prioritize my mental health the same way that I’ve attempted to take care of yours since the fight. It also helped me see right away that almost every single time we’ve ever had a rough time, I dedicate all of my light to your well-being. I apologize profusely and even take full responsibility at times in which you fuck up and I know deep inside I’m betraying my full truth by doing so. Other times, such as this latest, it’s ok that I feel those things because it was my wrong-doing. It’s taken a while to realize, but I walk on eggshells with you everytime shit hits the fan and I’ve become calloused to you walking away in times of need. I’ve let you take full control of my emotional stability by placing it on the backburner until you've decided you’re ready to talk about something. You’re a hard-worker, provider, and best friend, but if either because of your medications, your stressful job, or just the ways in which we’re different, you’re emotionally detached from me. I’m not resentful at this, it’s just the dynamic of what we’ve allowed our relationship to be. I’ve also realized just how poorly our communication has been and I’m sorry I haven’t been better about this because it actually is in my nature to be an open book. You hold stuff in and blow up at unfortunate times. Thank you for apologizing for the things you said a few weeks ago. It kinda shattered my world that night hearing you say that you resent me and all those other things, but apparently I’ve become a master at avoiding serious talk with you when I’m the type of person who needs to talk about love, life, the universe, and everything in between. I get it, maybe I talk too fucking much. My bad it’s just how I am and I try to give you your space whenever I see you need it. I know I’ll never be able to justify having hurt you, but I should forgive myself the way I hope you can forgive me and the way I’ve forgiven you for past fuckups. To you the fact that we got married set upon us a very traditional and heteronormative expectation of what our relationship meant. For me, I’m in love with my best friend and I’ve fallen in love with you so unconditionally that I’ve put aside certain aspects of our relationship that I shouldn’t have. Our relationship has been one based on a mutual love, respect, and friendship though I’ve always been sexually drawn to you. I could make love to you every single day if I could. Then, at your majority-of-the-time denial throughout the years, I feel that either you don’t find sex with me as appealing as I do with you, or I feel like I’m over-looking into things and feel dirty for wanting sex so much. I genuinely feel disgusted with myself because, why can’t I be like you? Am I perverted, tainted, why do I want sex so much? And we’ve been hella good making time for it lately, I appreciate that. The toys, the random blow jobs, that’s cool as shit but a good portion of the time it feels like just sex. Robotic. I try to stare into your eyes and tell you that I love you from time to time but I feel there’s a guard up that although I thought I’d broken through, is still present. There comes that feeling of being a girl again, for being too sensitive, of turning you off with my sensitivity, which you’ve confessed in the past. Our sex-life is traditional and heteronormative in its values, and that’s not a bad thing, but it makes me feel sometimes like you’re never gonna compromise and dare to explore our deepest sexual desires with each other. I don’t want to pressure you on that end, I feel shame for pressuring you because I see how uncomfortable it makes you. I’m sorry for making you feel that way. Lastly, my love for you is real. I love you with all my heart. I know that you’ve been the most giving and beautiful human being God could’ve placed in my life. Let’s find out if this is meant to be, or if it was only meant to be, until now. I LOVE ME.

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

«The City»  by Wlop Art Prints available here: http://cur.im/thecity

[diaryofanotterriblebreakup]

Cry baby

I may have just broken the greatest love of my life. We’ve been together 6 years and got married three months ago. Two weeks ago, I cheated on him. Cheated, the word is vile, it brings up an uncontrollable urge to cry out of shame. I’ve never wanted to hurt V, but I guess that’s not why one cheats in the first place. At least not in my case. My unending search for adventure coupled with too many tequilas led to, for one brief moment, me forgetting that I already had what so many people on this earth may never find, a loving and honest partner. For so long I’ve known that my love for V is amongst the greatest gifts this life has ever given me. For equally as long, I’ve ignored a gut instinct that has whispered to me that maybe I wasn’t ready for a serious, monogamous relationship. The problem is that with V, everything seems possible, everything I have now is because of the team that we’ve become, because of our joint efforts in making a bright future for ourselves. He’s the best salesman and my best friend and has always dedicated his existence to me. He sold me on it and I grew to feel it. Grew to feel a passion and an inspiration that I hadn’t felt before. My self-centered search for success gets the best of me and I realize that all too often, I put him in the backburner while I focus on myself. I can see why he sees my never-ending “I love you’s” as phony. I can see now, that all-too-often I’ve taken him for granted. If he decides to leave me for good, I probably deserve it. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry and I don’t even know myself at this point.