Archive for August, 2010

Remember Love?

CT scan results not ready until friday. Very very very scared..and lonely. I’m lucky to have my mom and sister at a time like this but god.. I miss him. I want to cry, and I know with him I can. I try not to cry in front of my mom because she freaks out. I know she’s worried sick but trying not to show it. The other night I woke up suddenly, very upset. My mom happened to be up too and had come into the room. She began to stroke my hair while I lay in bed (it’s not weird..we’re just big hair strokers in my family. It’s just an affectionate thing) and she must have thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. I heard her cry silently. Then I knew really just how worried she is.

I know it sounds like the stupidest thing in the world to feel this way when you’re as sick as I am now, but I just miss…love. I miss being able to hold, kiss and make love to him. Is that really odd? I guess it’s just knowing that I can’t…when you can’t have something, you want it all the more. I think of him all the time, but it hurts..to think of our happy times together.

Which brings me to this. I had never read a romance novel in my life until well, now. Always thought they would be tacky, or corny.. something crazy cat ladies read.  Someone (back in Canada) was giving away books one day and insisted that this author was really good and I should give it a try. It had a creepy looking medieval castle on the cover and it appealed to my creepy side so I took it. And now, being away from Dave,  feeling so crappy and having nothing else to read, I tried it..and I actually enjoyed reading it. It’s just comforting to read about love. I’ve always been a hopeless romantic.. I guess now it’s just stronger because I miss having that.. love, touch, tenderness.

It made me reminisce..think of good times, even with some past lovers. I know that may sound odd, to think about people I’ve been with before, but it’s just less painful. Thinking of Dave just breaks me.. I want it all back so much.

I remembered things like my English friend that I was crazy about a long time ago. How much fun we had together in London. The weirdness of the situation – two friends who had 2 weeks together and raging hormones all over the place. We’re still friends today and neither of us has forgotten any of the stuff that happened then. I remember our first kiss, while sitting on the floor in his bedroom. And our second, after playing computer games together.  I don’t remember every little detail, but I rememeber what a good kisser he was. I love when a guy knows when to kiss you softly and when to kiss you roughly. It was all so intoxicating at the time. His brilliance, his magic tricks, his Oxford degree, his English accent, his everything. I admired him. I wanted to do things to him and he never stopped me.
I vividly remember the one night we had been over at his friends’ house – he had had just a little too much wine. I remember standing at the bus stop with him on our way home, late at night, and feeling, just.. sensing that something, something more was going to happen that night. I don’t really remember how it happened..but suddenly we we’re home, in bed together. It’s dark.. we’re half naked, sweaty, kissing hungrily.. his parents in the next room. He’s doing things to me and having to cover my mouth so we’re not heard. The moment is so perfect, so right. I ask him to fuck me, but he pulls away. He says he can’t, that he knows it will hurt me emotionally. That as much as he wants to do this, he doesn’t want to take advantage. He goes to his room and leaves me alone.

How do you get mad at a guy for that? It’s a sweet thing to do, right? I  wish he had listened..I was 20, a big girl, I knew what I wanted. I loved him, he didn’t, and I knew it. I knew that night was all I was going to get, but I was loving it. He couldn’t hurt me any more than that. We speak of it now, and every chance he gets he tells me how much he regrets that we didn’t sleep together that night. That if he could go back in time, he would have done things so very differently. I wonder how that might have been.

Then I remembered Damian.. He was such an ass, yet it was pure lust since the moment we saw each other. It was strange with him, I knew he wasn’t particularly attractive in a physical sense, but there was something about him. He had this aura of seductiveness that was, to me, impossible to resist. It was this raw, animal energy. He was like a magnet to me. We worked together – I remember him coming over to help me with a difficult call or something, how we would put his hand on my shoulder (he was such a flirt) and the moment he touched me it was like fire. Such a simple thing.. such a non-sexual touch, in the middle of the office, surrounded by hundreds of people, and it drove me crazy. I remember the day he texted me to ask if he could come over. I was terrified and ecstatic. We both knew exactly what he was coming over for. I gave him a tour of my (tiny) apartment and soon we were in my room. I was so excited. He actually turned out to be really bad in bed, but his seductiveness continued to trap me for months, despite that. How does that even make sense? I think it was just the idea of him. I had wanted him for months and I was finally having him. I remember one time he brought me a rose. I was so surprised – it was a romantic gesture and he was always so un-romantic with me.

And Frank.. oh, Frank. We weren’t just lovers, but we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend either. I guess our relationship didn’t have a label. We were just friends who enjoyed each other. I remember being very attracted to him since the first time I saw him, and thinking there’s no way in hell I have a chance with this man. He was 13 years older. 6’3″ , big, burly, sexy smile. Italian.. all man. Divorced and had 2 kids. He must have noticed my interest because he would stare at my breasts all day long and he would flirt in the most sexual way, in front of all our coworkers. He was a little crazy, but in a good way. There was always this tenderness with me. Before we ever slept together,  we would be talking, and he would stroke my face as we talked. And, you know, normally if someone does that you would be like, what the hell are you doing, but he was so…arousing. He thought of me as this fragile, sweet thing. I guess the age difference was quite a bit. It never bothered me. He was huge.. in every way, if that makes sense. The first time we were together, I told him he wasn’t going to fit inside me. I really meant it..  he was that big. He laughed and said not to worry, that he would be gentle. A gentle giant, that was Frank. I remember the first time – it hurt, but it was the kind of hurt that feels wonderful, because it’s so infused with pleasure. He was patient and waited for me to accommodate him. After that it was insanely good. But Frank didn’t just fuck me, oh no.. he adored me. He’d look into my eyes and sing tangos to me. He would write me beautiful, heart-felt poems and letters. He would whisper sweet (or dirty?) nothings in my ear in French while we were in bed together.  I remember he used to always talk about my eyes. I don’t like my eyes, I think they’re blah. But he used to always look down at me, and say “Look at these eyes! I love them so much! I can’t believe how sweet they are!”. He wanted to take me back to his hometown. I cared about him so much, but not the way he did. I had to tell him,  he understood, and left right away. It hurt when he did, I missed him, but I knew he deserved more. I haven’t heard from him in years, but I hope he’s happy. I always remember him with love.

Then there was F. My friend and I refer to him as “the guy that broke my heart”. She knows, she had one too. It’s crazy how much impact one person can have on you. Some people, such as Damien, come and go, and some stay with you forever..their eyes, their hands.. you just don’t forget.

F was absolutely gorgeous to me. Everything about him drove me crazy. The kind of attraction that, when you look at the person, they’re so beautiful to you it physically hurts. I remember the first few times we went out, nothing happened. Went to the movies, and I’m not sure what else. He was the first guy I’d dated who had a car and that was weird to me. He was an engineer..just graduated. During the first few dates, the sexual tension was so thick it was crazy. He was shy though, and I didn’t want to confuse him. He had just gotten out of a long relationship, so I held back. I waited for him to make a move, and after the 3rd date or so, I decided I had to do something or we would both go crazy. He had come over for dinner, we were sitting on the couch talking and I began playing with this bracelet thing he had on, just as an excuse to get close to him. I love guys’ hands, and he had the sexiest, biggest hands. They were just so…big. I would look at them and think of all the things he could do with them.  I asked him…You know..what are we doing here? I like you, you like me. But I don’t want us to end up doing something we’ll regret later. He looked up at me with his big green eyes.  He looked straight into my eyes and said the only thing he would regret is if this didn’t happen.

Then we kissed. It was the best kiss I had ever had. It was perfect, it was movie-like. He was an amazingly good kisser. Soft, tender. It was like he was in my head and knew exactly what I needed right at that moment. We moved over to the big couch and I expected him to want to just…fuck me, to want to take my clothes off and do it right there, but he didn’t. He held me. He went back to kissing me softly. He kissed my hands, my forehead. I felt like he had had all these emotions locked up inside for a long time and now he was suddenly unleashing them all on me. I was so moved by it, and it made me want him even more. Later that night we were together for the first time. It was fun and sweet. He had a sweet, laid-back disposition. I’ve only ever liked laid-back kind of men. But there was always this big tenderness about him. He was always concerned about how I was feeling. It was always so emotionally charged with him, and that was wonderful. I am awful when it comes to waiting – When I want somebody, I want them now. F taught me patience. Foreplay with him would go on for hours…2, 3, 4. Literally, hours. I’d never been with a man who would take so much time before. Usually I’m more impatient, but with him it was so painfully delicious, every second of it. He drove me insane.. I couldn’t control myself. I had a roommate back then, so we would go to motels to be alone together. He would do things to me until I’d be literally shaking, writhing with want, with need. And then he would always ask “Are you ready now?”. So funny.. Am I ready? I was ready hours ago. I was ready after the first 5 seconds of you kissing me like this. But the waiting made it all so much better in the end. He was big, too, and the pain and pleasure together were almost too much. Sometimes we’d be at home and my roommate would come home. It would be too late to go to a hotel, so we’d just say screw it and stay. I could never, no matter how hard I tried, keep quiet with him. I remember feeling terrible about it because my roommate was a guy, and he was single and I knew he was lonely, and I wanted to be quiet just so that he didn’t have to hear it, but I couldn’t. It was too much. When I would be on top, and he would come, he would pull me to him and look into my eyes and kiss me, and I loved it. He would always hold me afterwards.  He was addicted to my lips – he could never stop kissing me. He would say wonderful, sweet things.  He was just such a sweet, good boy. His parents were military, religious, and he had been brought up catholic..very strict. He had issues with sex..anything out of the very ordinary he felt guilty about. I’d ask him to do things that he felt were disrespectful to me. I couldn’t get it through to him that if I want it, then it’s not disrespectful. Still, he had me hooked.
We would talk.. it wasn’t just sex. One time we lay in bed talking and making out for 9 hours. Nine hours, and it felt like 20 minutes. He was rich, so he’d take me to dinner at fancy places. I still always wanted to pay for my half. We’d talk about everything. Our dreams, our fears..what we wished to do in the future. I remember one time we had a sort of break, went 2 weeks without seeing each other. He invited me over because his parents were out. His house was like a mansion, I couldn’t believe it. I never picked a guy over how much money he made. F just so happened to be extremely rich, and I didn’t know it until I saw the house. I thought he must think my place was so crappy.. I was embarrassed. So we had been kind of on a break up until then so it was sort of awkward. I wanted him terribly, but wasn’t sure if he did. We had dinner, watched a movie, and I said I would get going. He asked me to stay, and we went to his room. That night was so intense.. 2 weeks without him had been torture. Our bodies were starved. Things with him were usually soft, slow, his movements collected.  This time we were rough, quick, and turbulent. There was no foreplay, no waiting. It was like lightning.

Things fell apart shortly after that.. he had issues with his ex he needed to work out. I was sad for a long time. I still think of him fondly. I hope he does too.

And with G.. well, G was different. We were together, and happy for almost 4 years. We were very good for each other emotionally, but I never had that sexual chemistry with him. He wasn’t a very sexual person. We still had fun, but I always ended up mothering him. I knew it was wrong but, even though he was only a year younger, he was  like a baby to me. I loved him very much, but towards the end he felt more like a dear friend than a partner. We wanted different things.. in many ways. Leaving him was so painful, knowing how much he was hurting. Everybody thought we would be together forever. So did we.. Life’s funny like that.

Wow..that was cathartic. I know it must seem so creepy for me to blurt all this out right now. Obviously I can’t think of the happy times with Dave.. it kills me. I  want it all back.

I’m in such a dark place right now, and thinking of past happy things brings me some ..comfort? I guess. Makes me feel like a woman again. Right now I feel like just a broken body.

I need sleep…desperately.

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End

So, I think I have cancer. I know this probably sounds deranged for somebody to just… think that. But I feel it.

I was in Canada about a month and a half ago, with Dave, feeling just fine… and one day I started to feel stabbing pains all over my body and I stopped eating. I felt nauseous, couldn’t stand the thought of eating. I freaked out… obviously because I didn’t have residency yet I couldn’t go to the doctor for free. So we went to walk in clinics and even the hospital…. $1000 (which we didn’t have) and some really rude doctors  later and I had gotten nowhere. they did blood tests, urine tests and ultrasounds and it all looked normal.I still had the pain.. and still wasn’t eating. I had dropped 12 lbs.

I’ve looked online at all other possible diagnoses…anything else that this pain could be..anything, but nothing else really fits. Considering my dad and grandfather died of cancer, it’s not like it’s shocking, you know. But everyone, my family, Dave etc keep denying it.. keep acting all weird when I say what I think I have. It’s like taboo… the c word. Don’t say it.

So I had to make one of the hardest decisions in my life and leave Dave, and Canada. I knew this meant I couldn’t get residency, and that I wouldn’t see Dave for a long time again if at all… but I had to. I went to mybrothers house in SPain thinking I could get care there. (I’m a spanish, as well as an argentinian citizen). But it didnt really work out, and there was a lot of paperwork to do and long waits before I could actually see a doctor or have any tests done.

So, 2 days ago I flew back to Argentina.. the last place on earth I want to be right now. It’s always been disgusting and pathetic here but now, having lived in perfect-canada for almost a year, it seems so much worse. the dirt, the insecurity, the way the air smells like shit constantly.. literally.. you cant smell fresh air. you smell smog constantly.
I don’t have insurance here either.. I signed up for it but you have to wait a long time to get any advanced tests done.. or for example if you have cancer, it doesnt cover chemo for 2 years after you sign up. Great. so I know it won’t help. Staying at my aunts right now. I will probably have to go to a public hospital… as disgusting and depressing as they are. Will find out soon..

As for me, everything is the same… stabbing pains, adbominal pain (I’m pretty sure its in my intestines), dizzy constantly..I look like shit, and now I think I’m losing weight… not good. Now I have this pain in down my leg as well. Dave is miserable, and I’m devastated. We just wanted to be together, and happy.. I don’t know why this had to happen. I’m terrified, heartbroken, crying constantly…. David deosnt know how to live alone, without me.. he doesn’t and I hate it. I want to protect him from all this but can’t… it’s happening.

We take life, and our health for granted so much. When I decided to go to Canada to be with Dave I knew it was crazy and spontaneous adn it was so not like me but I thought for once I should do something crazy. Take a risk… I was young and it was going to be alright.

Well look how that worked out..

Why? 😦

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