50-You are gonna miss me when I´m gone

50-You are gonna miss me when I´m gone
"Today I fought with Rocío again. I could never exist in her world in a real way. I have always been so nonexistent, and she has always been so admired. The essence of my feelings was born from her very existence.
After all, that was what love was—making decisions. That afternoon, I collapsed on the bed and cried, lying there for a long time. My feet were cold again; I had spent the previous days vomiting and had barely eaten anything today. The cold weighed on me as if it were winter. I put on a coat and went out in those worn-out jeans; I had worn them all morning while unpacking books in the new residence. I took the keys, moved some boxes with my feet, and managed to leave my room.

Luckily, the owner of the apartment had left; I didn't feel like socializing with anyone. I wanted to stop the world and get off, to never have to see Ro's face again. That was all I could think about; I didn't want to love her, but the very idea of not loving her caused me severe bruises in my chest."I walked a couple of blocks and arrived at McDonald's. The afternoon was cold and the breeze moved my hair, I was grateful for having put it in a ponytail.

My appearance seemed like that of a zombie or that of a newly married wife who was painting the walls of the marriage room when her husband confessed to her infidelity, a deception of such magnitude that she would not allow her to return to that place and had gone to McDonald's to Drown your sorrows in junk food. “It's Friday, you can go out” That was impossible, there was a dry law due to the upcoming presidential elections that would take place that Sunday.I remembered when I was little and my mom would take my sister and me out to eat ice cream. Then we started going just the two of us, and lately we only went when we were sad. Like last time when Tino left her on board because he felt too bad after being drunk for which he didn't want to explain and we went for a mccflurry. Now I was with explanations that I preferred not to hear, since the fact itself was too heavy to justify. What seemed like hours passed while I waited for the weather to clear, I had nothing more to do.

I stopped responding to Rocío's text messages, I had left my cell phone in the apartment, she had nothing useful to say to me. When it finally cleared I grabbed the Mccflurry I had just ordered to go and set off. Darkness had finally taken over the streets, contributing to the insecurity of the city. He had had very good references from the area but in Venezuela not even the best-located residences were immune to the underworld. It was a cool, silent night, sad as a tear. I liked that neighborhood, it was calm and not very crowded, it gave a melancholic air even when it was sunny, “it looks like me” I thought ironically. Most of my neighbors had cars, Ro would have a car next summer, I saw at times how I could park it in the parking lot of my apartment and we would spend the night wandering around all of Caracas. Then everything faded when I realized that this would not happen.

I ordered a Mccflurry and sat at the table, limp with no strength other than to hold the plastic spoon and bring it to my mouth. It began to rain and drops of water accumulated in front of the glass. I hadn't brought an umbrella and I was planning to take another ice cream to eat later, when I wanted to watch Bridge Jones while considering different ways to kill myself. He would have to wait for it to clear, it would be night and he had only gone to that place twice before, both in broad daylight. I was still new in the neighborhood.

The liquor store was open, how wonderful to have a liquor store a block and a half from my new home. I spent the little cash I had left buying a bottle of wine for reserves and some beers. I walked out of the liquor store and the checkout guy gave me a compliment. He couldn't find me looking worse and he had told me “you have beautiful hair, God bless you.” Did you hear God? The guy at the liquor store will thank you... I walked to the building, I was a machine of melancholic thoughts and unstable desires to have sex, get drunk and start crying.

And I ask myself just to confirm that there is undoubtedly always someone who loves more in all relationships. Why can't they both love with the same intensity? At what point had I become so vulnerable? I noticed that Ro no longer loved me like before, my fairy tale had broken, I loved her immensely and she stopped loving me.

Was she that repulsive? Maybe it was asphyxiating as the oxygen I was missing when I went so many days without seeing her.The last weeks at his side had been torment, inexhaustible pain for me. She was happy, she had a beautiful girlfriend who couldn't do enough for her, soon she would go on a trip to Brussels and see her mother, I would go to New York to study for a year and that would be the end of it all. Was it resignation on his part?
Or was it me who had high expectations in this premature relationship?
Would Jessica be right?
Couldn't I change her to have a decent future with her?

Seeing her attitude of non-conformity towards me, of indifference full of emptiness, filled me with such a piercing pain that I preferred to walk away, I walked away and it hurt me to see how she never did anything to look for me. . She only reproached me, she reproached me for everything I did, I could take her to the opera, I could learn the chords she had taught me on the guitar to play her a song and she would still continue reproaching me, she would always do something wrong. He did everything wrong and the correct way of doing things was completely detached from my decisions and his contemplations towards me.

I no longer wanted to watch love movies, write poems or listen to the songs that reminded me so much of her. I had a book where I wrote daily poems to her, poems after seeing her or making love, poems that we would both end up hating as we were the only witness of our failed love.