“Lo que más me gusta de ti es que yo te gusto.”
“What I like the most about you is that you like me.” I literally said that to one of the prettiest girls I have been with. Yes, I was a dick already back then in 2002, and I am still a fucking dick 14 years later. What have changed between 19 year-old Eduardo and today’s Eduardo is that I have fucked a lot. Poor youngster Eduardo had to wait two years after that incident to go beyond first base, and had to go through 9 rough years of sexual frustration afterwards. Karma is a bitch.
But this is not meant to be a recollection of my sexual memories. We have been there already. I believe that now, instead, I have a responsibility with you, people, and with you, my ex-lovers spread all over the world. This is confession time. Fasten your seatbelts.
I am genuinely a good guy. I don’t mean any harm with my actions nor words, and I do care about my people. If we have had sex, spent a good time together or share the same genetic material; the possibilities of me liking you and being nice to you are high (yes, I’m looking at you, friends, family and lovers.) Now that we have settled that down, I must say that I don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone, starting with myself. I’m one cynical motherfucker, and apathy is my constant state of being.
I don’t know if I never felt anything, or if I felt so much and so deep that at some point I just melted down. Whatever it was, now I’m like this. I fluctuate in a very short range of amounts of fucks given, about pretty much everything. I feel a lot and intensely, but my span of attention is short. Soon enough I will go back to my numb state and not care about it/you/them. And it has nothing to do with it/you/them. It’s just what it is.
The other day I was considering writing about my “Two Times Curse.” I felt that it was too much of a coincidence to actually be a coincidence the fact that all the girls I have slept with dump me after two shags. Not one -which I would understand as a one night stand-, but two shags. And then, gone with the wind. I was scratching my head, trying to figure out what I did wrong. I took some days off of writing and finally had my breakthrough. It was never about “what,” but more about “who.” I was the problem all along.
I have problems connecting with people in a more profound level. Being generally apathetic as I am, I experience a great difficulty truly opening a bridge between me and the person I’m with. I close up. Uninterested, bored. Is it the fear of getting hurt again, pushing everyone away? Is this an actual condition I should worry about? Am I a sick fuck? Time will tell.
“Love.” Now, that’s a powerful concept, considering my circumstance. The follow-up question becomes very obvious, doesn’t it? “Have I ever loved anyone?” I do care about my family and friends, but… love? Shit. Only once. And I fucked that one up. Big time.
I’m a dick. I have been a dick and, although I don’t want to, I expect to stay a dick in the future. Experience has proven that being a dick is in my nature. It’s an instinct, an involuntary reflex. And since I don’t give a fuck about most people-or things-, I’m usually okay with being this fucking dick. But I will never forgive myself for being so with the only person I have loved in my life. L, my ex, did not make it easy for me in the beginning, but she dealt with my shit without deserving it. For that, I am immensely sorry. But, in fair and brutal honesty, I feel much better without her.
I love myself now. Being a dick and all. I hated myself back when I was with L. I hated my resentment, my pain, my apathy, and what it triggered in me. Love didn’t save me, didn’t save us; but, ultimately, it made me set her free. All these nightmares I’ve been having lately, about being with L again, are not scary because I don’t love her. They are scary because I’m afraid of being that asshole again. That terrifies me. Loneliness and being apart sucks, but it sucks much less than being “Dick Eduardo” to her.
So, there you have it. If you are reading this as my ex-lover, you made the right choice by dumping me. I’m not worth the effort. If you are my friend, I promise I am trying to change. And you know I’m fun, anyway. You couldn’t really complain. In the weird case you are a family member and are reading this column written in English, well, congratulations and know for sure that I truly care about you -despite my general apathy. And, in the even weirder case you are L… What can I say? Thank you and I’m sorry. For everything. You are the better person. Always were. I hope all is good now, however and wherever you are.