Made Vulnerable

Yesterday it was not an easy day. In fact, these two last weeks were unnecessarily stressing, but I´m here to help, and I hope to rest for the Passover.

I have lived too long with my mother. She´s not the person I would say I love to be tagged along, but I´m here because of work, because I can do many things I don´t do at home, and I´m planning to be where I belong, where I want to be: Home!

Yesterday, while I walked to my sister´s, I was shocked with the images of an emergency. I saw a white jeep running like an arrow, just to reach quickly the hospital. I saw several people crying, showing sour tears and their faces were sadly in desperation. I felt myself useless, so I prayed God for help and faster healing. I begged Him to save those who were wounded or hurt. I prayed that they might get the hospital soon, and I was also surprised with the help some motorcyclists where giving the driver to get his way open (it´s the first time I see them being a blessing, rather than an upsetting problem on the streets).

I wanted to check my emails boxes. I had no idea on the mess I had there, but I left the inbox same way I found it: Out of order, unclassified.

While I was surfing over pages of letters, looking for the one I needed, I found several I had forgotten; so I started to read them all soon, as I was reminded of things I needed to relearn.

There is trash in my mind. Sometimes I leave it there without noticing, but sometimes these torn papers can be useful to reread…

Mónica, the one I lost sight of in Colombia, spoke to this living life that dies. She reminded me things I had forgotten and spared me from doing wrongs. I relearnt how adult love should be, what it´s meant for, and that I should not be led by decisions that would damage or cause any to suffer wrongs.

One thing is having a poor self-esteem, but another issue is the evolvement of a human being interacting with others, following his/her hunches, likes or desires…

After getting the information I searched letter by letter, I felt better. Wow! It was releasing. It was like meeting her twice, and it has been several days I had a little pain in my left arm… I won´t go to any doctor. If it is what I suspect, let it be done. If it is what it is not, let it happened: I don´t want to live any longer.

I do not care what any may think of or say to me. Life is a decision, it´s an option and the one I´d like to live it´s not at the corner.

I´ve been telling God, long ago, that I don´t want to live like my mother (to resume this, her attitude sucks) and often I´ve told her -kidding with some irony- that now I know why my dad left (I´m told -even by dreams- I should leave her, but I hadn´t left some strings and apron).

Honor your parents! (but if they dishonor you, don´t clap).

Love them all! (but if someone hurts you, don´t expect a nice picture taken).

I was tired these days. I needed a relieving break. And I slept well last night.

I woke up early, before the time I set my alarm clock to wake me up (because I planned to go home to rest from city people and its burden of stress).

After chewing those thoughts those letters gave me, I felt happy for those people I have known and met. I´m happy because some may leave same way I left, and I´m sure we never meant it that way, but such is life: We give and receive.

Show your ways

I think it´s good to show us the way we are. There are people who like to play games to show who they really are or what they want. Sometimes we hide ourselves in our childish ideas, dreams, longs or fears, but these all serve to cover up the truth that must be shown, to pile up too many things over reality, and honesty should be open like our wounded hearts -hurt flesh- to receive opportune healing or acknowledgement.

Now I guess why Mónica changed. I know my reasons, but I gave half of what I could give. I do not fully trust. I don´t give my all, and time has given me lessons to keep on.

She needed more than I had, more than I gave her, and that´s ok: She was right. I was not the one she thought she needed. Besides, I had some switches on to be tear-proof conditioned and I didn´t do my best.

Was I living with her alone? Was I content with all her ways? (None of both)

I´m thankful for all the lessons some people had told me. Friends, like Richard, told me there is truth (and lies) everywhere we go, the exception is if we learn to walk with God (I can use -and abuse- His name, but I´ll finally pay my wrongs)

Living under somebody´s parents is not like living in your home. Others can be cherished, behaving better than your family; but only those are your bones. Blood doesn´t come with your family bonds and feelings.

When I moved outside Venezuela I moved to be free from bondage; but I made a mistake I did not correct soon, and now I see what I missed: A good woman and her family.

Sometimes we have to put on things we dislike, and my disadvantage was being under somebody´s roof:

·         If I fasted her family knew it and said anything on the contrary.

·         If I wanted to learn on the internet, they ruled over me and set me a schedule…

We, as Christians, have to toil our pace. Our rights have a price.

We can be vulnerable (we always are) but disadvantages are to be utterly reduced.

I remembered several sad stories Mónica told to me... The man she had before I came into her life, insisted too much on her. She disliked him a lot. She could not like him, so he begged and begged, and she gave him a chance.

The sad things started when she was despised, hurt and lately cheated…

I liked the way Mónica and I shared, but we allowed ourselves some minor mistakes that broke our relationship and those faults spoiled good things we could be enjoying now (but we bet our decisions) (we were quite different)

There are many things involved in loving. One part of it is visceral and quite selfish: We love those who we like. We “love” because we´re being loved by those we like/liked. Those beings we don´t know, those we don´t like, are set apart in the seat of lost things, and they´re there waiting in case somebody comes to claim for them, visiting the emptiness of the abandoned department.

Love is a choice.

Those who are prettier than others suffer more than we, as ugly people. Those who are handsome commit more decisional mistakes than those who are not richly blessed with beauty or the utter attractiveness we lacked. The world gives what it takes…

Appearance helps to get a job, to be coped with in certain social status and to be popular, but character endures shortcomings. Some have used popularity to reach the scene plateau, but character helps you and I to walk assured.

I know of people who were beautiful in their youth. I know the people they thought they were and know what they now think (and felt) when being rejected to be left behind, for being fat, “ugly” or poor. Our eyes –believed or not- sometimes are a disadvantage: I know it well. I have a short list of names, and peoples, who see like I saw…

There´s a nice woman who told me her story: She was rich, thin, with a beautiful body… But time cashed her back everything she thought she owned: Marriage, her family and the money she thought belonged to her.

She has told me some sad stories of her children. I will not tell those, but she wasn´t loved by the person she is. She was “loved” for money, she was “loved” by her body shape, “loved” for sex; but the real woman was hidden until she got old and sick (that´s happening to me).

What´s your loving made for?

Why have I loved those I thought I loved? (Mine is selfishness)

Sex is a driver. It is a feeling very addictive and much more than food, because of the strings I made of lust. Money spending is nothing compared to the itching of lust, because of the power of its addiction; but it ceases when getting old, when getting sick and really poor.

I have seen many people who have healed (I´m on my way to healing).

I have seen those who lack a leg, an arm… Those paralyzed by genuine physical reasons, and I know they have much more real ailments and mental handicaps than those who do not consider themselves richly blessed, when being complete, as a whole being blessed.

I have seen the effort they do to move a tottering leg, to control their unsteady arm or whole body, and some of us argued against God because we´re not smart, rich or terribly handsome. (Why do I blame God? Did my father or mother talked to Him first? Was I asked in prayers?)

Inwardly we are selfish (I know I am).

I know what I can do and what others expect me to do (I left some screwed up).

I´m used to walk by sight, I can´t deny it (who dares to say they´re not too?).

I like youth rather than being old, but we came here to be tested and that weak character will be changed (or divinely despised).

Time is giving us a lesson we learn, sooner or later: The core being of us is beneath outer skin and this withers with the proud of years, pains, to take out what´s inside.

What is leaving corpses when we die? (The spirit)

Isn´t it nothing, but dust, that remains when our soul goes where God has chosen?

Soul is the software for the hardware of “beauty”. Many people have wonderful software working on bad hardware.

Regrets? I´ll be one, if I don´t change (Yet!)

Ideally, both software and hardware must match. But I have seen there´s no perfection on earth.

The hardware -too often- cannot be changed; but I´ve seen the software can be finely tuned and updated: I want my soul (software) updated.

The software, alone, serves for nothing; but I´ve seen those who overcame their pains and mental ailments.

A.T.             March 2013

Equal Right Works

I wish the world were like that (as your site says) but the truth is another, and sure there are boundaries...

I hope, one day, those that are in the cage of certain nations (like Venezuela) could reach the unlimited space the www has set open for working and serving others.

It´s true that many firms, States and companies seek for the best (they deserve them and are paid for that) but there´s still a hope for those who were born in a world of contradictions and screening limitations, and to break those chains -too often- money is needed, much more than a human will or his/her working capability or good attitude.

I pray that GOD set me free, free from other humans´ will and hindering limits, because ALL were born free from rules, customs and dictatorial goverments.

 

A.T.

Nothingness

I saw how you play with something.

You argue your own, to get it owned.

There's something in nothingness you talked,
that here, while I walked up...

Something comes out of nothing,
and anything is something.

A.T.

Mercado Sexual

Como humanos, naturalmente, somos seres integrales. Somos un combo visceral cargado de emociones, que venimos en un paquete de sueños, ganas, añoranzas nuestras y regaladas, y no –necesariamente- íntegros, en relación a la pureza emocional e idoneidad genética.

Cuando somos nosotros, somos de un todo lo emocional con lo físico o parciales, pero somos. No podemos negar nuestra naturaleza humana, visceral, ni puede disimularse –aunque queramos- esa parte pecaminosa que no se termina de abandonar sin esfuerzo (porque hay la tendencia a alguna forma de pecado o de falla de carácter, incluso la moral).

Al ser nosotros, lo moral va junto con lo inmoral. Puede que estemos muy consciente de qué es lo que nos hace ver la inmoralidad en los extraños o en los que nos son conocidos, pero –con deficiencias- nuestra moralidad opera en nosotros, hacia quienes nos rodean.

Puede que, si estoy en la playa y me siento atractivo, sin importar qué piensen mis semejantes, me pongo un traje de baño que haga notar mis “atributos” y, si alguna dama está disponible, indistintamente casada, soltera o en una relación libre, ella echará de ver lo que quiera y, si su sentido de moralidad está bien sintonizado, me desdeñará o no pondrá atención a mi exhibicionismo lisonjero.

En el caso contrario, una dama, bien “dotada” hará lo mismo para llamar la atención (ganarse un grupo de admiradores pretendientes) y, aquellos que se interesen –visualmente- en la mercancía exhibida, se acercarán y, de algún modo, intentarán abordarla para seducirla, atraerla, ganarla o poseerla, pues, en ese caso, como somos seres visuales y viscerales, nadie se negará intentar un bocado del plato exhibido. ¿No escoge ella al mejor postor? Elegirá al que sea de su agrado, al que le apetezca sexualmente y le ofrezca más ventajas económicas (en el mejor de los casos).

Toda la vida hemos mercadeado lo que tenemos o lo que queremos.

Una mujer, muy fácilmente, sabe qué busca un hombre por la forma de hablar: Si eres machista, si eres dominador o sumiso, ella lo verá en ti, no sólo por tu forma de andar o hablar, sino por la manera en que la trates o el modo en que te allegues a ella.

El mercado sexual se mueve a diferentes niveles de cotización.

Es posible que las jovencitas no sepan lo que hoy valen pero, a cierta edad, cuando adquieran sólidos conocimientos de sí mismas, cuando las experiencias le hayan favorecido para ser menos vulnerables a las fantasías pueriles o mentiras, dejarán de cotizarse entre las mercaderías de remate y, aunque ya no tengan el jovial atractivo de la virginal inocencia o la belleza exterior, algunas intentaran que alguien puje por un precio desproporcionado o alto (las baratas son para casos raros o para cuando ella ya no abrigue la esperanza de aquel príncipe azul que se tornó un viejo verde).

Según pude asesorarme, de un Casanova más joven que yo, las chicas buscan –en el mejor de los casos- un Príncipe Azul. Él debe ser físicamente atractivo y, a la vez, económicamente atractivo... ¿Será mentira?

Si ello fuera una mentira o una verdad parcial, ¿Qué hace que una niña de 5 años desee vivir en un enorme castillo, con servidumbre y ser la preferida del rey o la novia del príncipe?

Alex, la hermano de mis hijos, suele comentarle a mi hija sus sueños. Obvio que las películas de Disney ha influido en las pensamientos de breve vida pero ¿Tales fantasías no han tocado las mentes de mujeres adultas? ¿No han prolongado, miles de ellas, la idealización de su realidad y fantasía?

Mi madre, con setenta años, todavía sueña con un hombre, millonario “que la quiera mucho” y le dé todas esas cosas que no supo o no pudo tener… ¿No desea y sueña lo mismo la señora Cecilia, y tantas otras que he conocido? (y ya no son unas carajitas).

A los quince años, influidas por la presión social (o la presión de sus mentes) ya saben si gustan o gustan de sí mismas. Si han llegado a aceptarse (y a ser deseadas) lo saben en ese lapso de la adolescencia prolongada y, como no son nada pendejas, irán aprendiendo a capitalizar “lo que tienen” pues, de igual forma, los varones van comprendiendo que las mujeres no se encantan sólo con coloridas flores, dulces chocolates ni versos fragantes (los deseos se comprar -o se ganan- con los arpegios de palabras, cimentados en obras, en la consolidación de otras conquistas).

El mercado sexual favorece a los diseñadores de modas, a los fabricantes de cosméticos, a los comerciantes de la belleza y sus publicistas. Todo lo sexual está entramado en la cultura de la compra venta, todo lo visceral sobrepuesto en lo que de placer, prestigio, fama, etc.

Las artes, lo visual y plástico han hecho una simbiosis con lo comercial, lo negociable, lo apetecible y placentero. La cultura de la transacción de bienes, incluso en las menos penetradas por la influencia transculturizante del comercio convencional, el colonialismo mercantil explotador, ha calado en lo más medular de las etnias primitivas y remotas: Si quieres algo cómpralo o gánalo y, la belleza –incluso- puede apuntalarse con lo que la naturaleza no había suplido biológicamente ni los bienes materiales habían imaginado comprar.

A.T. Dec. 16, 2012

Be blessed!

I´m proud of this!

(Be blessed, Narain)

Hindered to be.

Why am I hindered to be loved?

Why am I so limited to hug or being hugged?

Sometimes this is not just the hunch,

The liking or willing desire to woo,

It is just a dealing contract, an achieving condition,

Made for few who do not deserve who

I longed for, those that I wanted to belong,

Since I´m made to be out of a chosen group.

Is love a gift or a privilege?

Why am I asked to love if it needs things I´m losing with age?

These are the things that remained blocked by material lacks and faults.

Beauty is not needed to be loved, but it´s sought to be found.

Money seems to be hugged as the guarantor of longer days

And there´s no alibi when anybody wants to leave and smear a mess.

Sure I´m not that much

Who has left his mess and smudged

(but I´m falling too).

As anybody may think I´m deserved.

I rather learn to live like an angel,

strengthening my needs on my knees.

A.T.     Nov. 2012

Palabras

 I                                                          

Cada palabra tiene nombre,

Un camino…  Destinatarios.

Y la voz a su escenario,

la fuente anida a lo que expira;

y al final, la vieja herida,

otra espina rompe un cauce.

¡Maldita sea la vida!

Cuando un amor me apuñala;

Que el querer no se regala

Ni las balas son perdidas.

¡Ah! De mí, y esos amores,

Inmersos en pedazos.

Si estuviera  ya  en tus brazos

Esa herida sanaría…

II

Si fueras sólo mía,

puro amor, y sin reproches.

Salvarías esa noche,

Que añoré, hecho pedazos.

¿Adónde te habrás ido?

Por tu vaga ventolera.

Ya no pides que te quiera,

Y ese “amor” te habrá mentido.

¿Te clavaron las espinas?

¿Te sudaron en el ruedo?

“Por amor” alzó su vuelo…

Sin amor, te desnudaron.

Y estos labios que te amaron,

Sin besar, besaron suelo.

¡Furtivo instante!

Breve abrazo del rechazo:

¿Qué es la vida? Que la quiera.

Hoy yo estoy hecho pedazos.

Hoy sufrimos el silencio,

Como flor que no marchita;

No es la rabia lo que irrita,

Es querer, en tu desprecio.

¡Te amor! ¡Te amo! ¡Te amo!

Y no es pleno este deseo.

 Aunque a ciegas yo te veo,

Y aunque vea, no es mi suerte.

Pues, amar ¡y no tenerte!

No está lejos de la muerte.

Soy páginas blancas…

Lo que amar, no dio a escribir.

¡Y es tan fácil escupir!

Lo que cae en lo corriente.

Queda en tizne ese recuerdo,

¿Cuánto no? ¡Te pude asir!

Y es tan fácil escupir,

La serpiente que nos muerde.

III

¡Malcriado niño destetado!

Perdido en otra ausencia:

Quizá pruebe la demencia,

Besar besos que no pido.

Abrazado al desconsuelo,

-  como brújula sin Norte  –

No te hiera este reporte:

“Ese amor no está perdido.”

IV

Hoy ya leo mi historia,

Con los ojos al vacío:

Te amé tanto, como vida,

En la puerta de salida.

Alcé mi brazo raso

(tan alto como pude)

Y en aceite ungí mis penas:

Me dejaste por un trato.

Al atino, un desatino.

Te he amado, lo he deseado.

¡Y es tan triste ese destino!

Solícito, avergonzado…

¿La amó otro, en mil caminos?

A.T.             Nov. 7, 2012

Confusiones y Ambiguedades

En mi afán de auto ayudarme, sólo para recordarme un grupo de tips que he aprendido, me invito a publicar esto.

No todo lo que se lee es la verdad ni es verdadero.

No todo lo que se ve se verá.

No todo lo que se publica es lo que se quiere.

No todo lo que se quiere se publica.

Con la chica que anduve hasta septiembre 2012, aprendí un par de cosas. Sus fotos no eran las más actuales y sus escritos eran muy subjetivos y sugerentes.

Si estaba sola no era toda la verdad y, si era su verdad, ella sólo era la versión que ve ella, la que resiente o quizá le conviene (y aseguro que es una de las mejores personas que haya conocido: Pero no le tendré un ápice de confianza).

El hecho de que alguien se muestre sola no significa que sola esté.

Una foto que te muestre (o me muestre) acompañad@ no significa que tengas una relación duradera, estable o permanente con quien hayas salido fotografiado.

El hecho de que siempre te fotografíen sola no nos dice que estés sola y, a la mayoría de las personas, eso a nade importa, sino lo que pueda disfrutar contigo (del modo que sea).

Mi amigo Fred Vargas, en sus mamaderas de gallo, siempre le dice a las chicas que pretende seducir: “Mi amor, ¿Estás casada?”. Indistintamente de lo que ella le diga, siempre responderá: “¡No importa! Yo no soy celoso.” Y, la verdad, es un buen truco para saber: a) Si ella miente. b) Si está ligada a alguien. c) Si está disponible o interesada en una aventura con él.

¿Qué se quiere, generalmente?

El sexo no es malo, malo es lo que se acaba; mala es una relación que se termina en un doloroso desengaño, en las ilusiones perdidas.

Hoy, más que en Oriente, nuestro libertinaje sexual nos ha llevado a un quebrantamiento de la familia y, como consecuencia, la perversión emocional de algunos de nuestros hijos: Eso es un efecto avalancha (siempre habrá algún@ que evitará el quebranto).

Es bueno saber qué ofrece cada vitrina. Es bueno saber qué clase de cuerpo una persona intenta desposar (o seducir) pero –como las apariencias engañan- más de uno se ha involucrado con un hombre operado (y más de una mujer se estuvo enamorando de otra mujer). ¿Son las fotos una referencia confiable de cada persona?

Se puede conocer el buen gusto de su natural y saludable hedonismo.

Se puede apreciar los ambientes que frecuenta.

Se puede mirar un grupo de los mejores amigos.

Puedes ver la forma en que acaricia, los cuidados que pone para que veas sus bonitos pies, lo lindo de su rostro… Pero [b]no verás su corazón[/b].

Si a menudo la ves en la discoteca, con un cigarrillo o un vaso de whisky ya sabes qué hábito tiene.
Si ese culito luce fofo, bastante caído, ya sabes qué te gustará (pero eso no es su corazón ni el centro de tu razón).

Si en un grupo se retrata con varios amigos ¡se supone que los tiene! Pero, por la forma en que abraza a alguno y a otro, por la forma en que se miran y lo mira –y la admiran- podrás inferir lo que tú quieras pensar (pero una mujer nunca está sola) (a menos que ella quiera).

Cada mujer, por fea o bella que sea, siempre tendrá una nube de seguidores. Es muy difícil que no tenga a nadie y, si te ha incluido en su grupo ¡Uff! Eso es bastante más que nada.

Toda mujer (u hombre) tendrá algún pretendiente. Es muy posible que algún@ sólo diga que se trata de “amigas” o “amigos” y, en medio de la incertidumbre de la soltería o la dilución matrimonial, más vale tener “algo” que nadita.

No obstante, pese al hipócrita puritanismo, la libertad económica de occidente permite que sus emancipadas mujeres tengan amantes, además del marido con que hacen otros hijos.

El ambiente laboral o académico permite la práctica de la infidelidad, tanto emocional como física.

Si uno no está atendiendo sexualmente bien a su esposa o mujer, si uno no la colma en o sexual o lo económico, [i]hay muchos “caballeros” dispuestos a comerse el pechito o el muslito ajeno[/i]… Todo irá bien, hasta el día que ellos sepan que –también- a ellos se lo hicieron.

La mujer desatendida, no muy oficiosa en la casa, puede sublimar parte de sus afectos insatisfechos enamorándose del galán de sus novelas ¿No les basta su vida real? ¿No le bastan sus hijos y marido?
Recuerdo, más de una vez, aquellos suspiros –aquellos “Ay”- tan profundos, cuando era un chiquillo y miraba a mi abuela o escuchaba lo que decía, junto con sus amigas (y no eran tan viejas) ¡Ah! Mi abuelo no la atendía…

¡Sé! Por experiencia y convicción, que si una mujer no tiene lo que desea en la casa, lo hallará en la calle (lamentablemente, algunas, insisten en prostituirse emocional y sexualmente) (eso es parte de lo que interiormente combato).

Dale a cada mujer un ambiente social, licor –en el grupo de tus amigos- y verás quién no lo era ciertamente.

A título personal: Mi mamá era muy bonita. Mi papá, cuando joven, la llevó a donde yo no debería invitar a mi futura esposa. Le enseñó a beber, le mezcló con sus amistades… Mi papá nunca lo supo (quizá no lo intuyó) pero –sus amigos- más de una vez intentaron seducir a mi madre y, con el tiempo, en el proceso de esa separación, mi mamá terminó trabajando en el mundo de la farándula (y es obvio que no es un lugar nada apropiado para la santidad).

¿Qué confunde? ¿Qué es ambiguo? [b]Decir que te amo, pero siéndote infiel.[/b]

Para un cristian@, para alguien que quiere vivir tranquil@, no le es conveniente casarse con una chic@ que no haya nacido de nuevo (y ello no es garantía). El compromiso contractual del matrimonio sólo ampara “lo material” que se pudiese obtener, pero no ampara al corazón que se desea conservar (contento o feliz).

Si esa mujer, luego de casarse, se sigue exhibiendo. Si esa dama sigue mostrando sus hermosas nalgas, su bonito pecho… ¿Es posible que nunca supo lo que nos atrae sexualmente? Y, si lo hace deliberadamente, luego de casada ¿Tiene un complejo de inferioridad o procura seguir atrayendo a otros hombres (o mujeres)? (Hay “lesbianas” que no sabían que deseaban un encuentro sexual con una mujer) (también pasa a los hombres).

Un cristiano no lleva escudo contra las sorpresas. Nos casamos en la misma lotería, con las mismas aspiraciones que l@s inconvers@s. ¿Pero qué nos confunde?

Hay falsas expectativas matrimoniales que son solamente sexuales.

Hay falsas esperanzas económicas que no son –ni serán- satisfechas mediante el matrimonio… Y puedo contarte un caso funesto: Cierto hombre se casó con X. Con el tiempo, por cosas del pecado, ese hombre se enamoró de Y (pero Y era hermana de X). X tenía dinero... Como ese fulano resultó un hombre astuto, además de avaricioso, pensó qué hacer para salirse del contrato matrimonial. X tenía dinero, y hasta autos blindados, pero aquel hombre se aseguró de que X y Y viajaran juntas en otro auto no protegido y, calculándolo todo, ese hijo de madre mandó a matar a su esposa (X) para quedarse con todo el dinero y casarse cómodamente con su cómplice Y. ¡Así lo hizo! (ya no vive en Vzla).

Puedes retratarte con la mejor persona del mundo, tener hijos con ella, y no amarla (sino su dinero).
Puedes fingir que eres feliz con tus amig@s de la alta sociedad, y lo que haces con ellas y ellos no te llena (igual pasa a los pobres) (no eres la única pendeja que se finge bella o deseada, y terminas siendo una borracha o una drogadicta “porque nada te llena”).

Puedes tomarte las mejores fotos, en cualquier lugar del mundo, y no consigues llenar ese vacío que persiste en acrecentarse. Puedes abrazar a TODOS y no sentir el calor de nadie.

¿Te confunde lo que haces ambiguo?

Alguien que significó mucho en mi ida (no termino de entender por qué) me escribió: “…Búscate una mujer fiel que sólo ame y sepa amar a uno y te dé la exclusividad que tanto pregonas…” ¿Acaso no existe? (Y no temo volver a equivocarme).

¿Cómo puede ser que –siendo inconsistentes- queramos un amor sexualmente excluyente y emocionalmente sólo para nosotros? (¿Inventamos al amor para sublimar lo que es sexo?).

Confunde que varias décadas de la vida transcurran persiguiendo una quimera (cada uno en la suya).

Es ambiguo que predique el amor,[b] pero con mis acciones proclame la infidelidad.[/b]

¿Qué haces o dices tú?

¿Te acuestas con dos el mismo día?

¿Besas a un@, pero deseando al otr@?

¿Estableces una relación –sexual- breve con alguien que te ve como una pareja a largo plazo y sin términos?

¿Deseas casarte, o sólo deseas echar un polvo furtivo y largarte?

Y, si es una persona sana, emocionalmente sincera ¿Por qué la perviertes? Si más tarde la defraudarás.

¡Dile qué te gusta y esperas!

Pienso que el sexo no es cuestión de masturbarse en la vagina ajena. Sé que muchas cosas parecen necesarias, pero no todas son imprescindibles.

Una persona que, descuidadamente lleva una relación con dos personas, debe decidirse por una. Una mujer -u hombre- que trasciende de una relación platónica a la erótica, debe hacerse responsable de las consecuencias (si está casad@, aténgase a lo que venga).

Carol´s gift

Recently I knew a nice woman. I´ve been reading her articles for about a year. I felt compassioned, sad, willing to help and frustrated for not knowing how to do it but by writing to her.

By time, we developed a rare relationship. She confessed a couple of things, then I knew more about her, but she was abroad, far from my hands´ reach, although she dared to give me her phone number.

When I knew she was depressed, deeply sad, I started to phone call her. I thought she was absolutely alone, almost desperate and isolated, so I became her pen friend and a phone friend: I wanted to help her.

By time, we shared links to be close on facebook. I noticed she had more friends than I allow myself, more than I actually thought she had. I saw and learnt more about her on those pictures she showed, and these gave me an idea about her being, her ways, but I stayed steadfast to what I began: I wanted to help and “helping” helped me.

My friend Fred helped me note some things I did not see, up to the moment he spoke to me. I started to believe she was falling in love, same way I noticed I was falling in love for her (this was too soon).

Afterwards, within a month,she moved back and we arranged to meet. The first time, I was curious, I wanted to know if she was that beautiful woman I saw in some of her pictures (because, at the beginning, I avoided to see all those pictures she has uploaded).

Within me, there was a huge interest to help her to overcome her emotional problems. She used to write about her sad feelings, her disappointment on the way her love relationships ended, and I felt compassionated: I believed her way to point the issues out, just from her point of view (of course, it´s almost impossible to listen to her ex-lovers´ arguments). 

Looking at posted pictures –everywhere- made me think of some things. Nude or almost naked pictures make think anyone. Sensual or subjective pics will give you an idea on who they are (how you are or behave)and these serve to understand what they want to show or grab when being seen or watched. The way anyone appears speaks to our eyes. Am I showy?  Am I lustful? Am I looking to draw friendship or sexual attention to? Pictures attract feelings, whether they´ll be positives or negatives (unbelievers –too often- post those that make them look prettier than they actually are, sexier or richer than they could possibly be).

Carol showed much more than I would allow my wife (if I had one).

At certain point of the time, I checked all of her pictures and noticed what her “friends” commented and I felt jealous (that made me know I was getting too involved in my personal relation to her).

Often I don´t care what some girls or women may post and upload, but I cared what Carol could be posting, just because she draw my attention by clicking “Like” to most of my pictures on facebook (obviously she wanted to make me know she has seen all of them) (there was no need to “tell me” she has seen them, but it was clear she wanted my attention and she got it). Questions: How often do I click on “Like” to show someone I like her/his contends, their writings or pictures? Was it true? Why did she need to let me know what she has seen?

I alone started a love relationship (with my feelings).

The first time we met, I saw she was the girl I saw. She wasn´t as beautiful and young as those pictures, but I was curious, I wanted to know if she was that beautiful woman I saw as a good friend.

That day started and lasted like a good date. We spent long hours talking and sharing. She asked me many questions and wanted to know many things about me (she found ways to reconfirm if I was lying or telling her the truth). Inwardly I asked for myself: Is she interested in me as a man or a friend? I enjoyed that long time. It was like being in front of a jury and being asked, just to guess if I was guilty or innocently wrong. She looked deep into my eyes to see them blink or fail when answering. I couldn´t find some right answers, there were some I didn´t know.She laughed at my back, but I was the evidence in court! (There was too much attention paid).

From that day on, I would say we started dating (but it wasn´t) (she´s married and hasn´t buried some relationships that someone else finished).

We touched.

We hugged.

We kissed, our lips.

But we do not belong to one another, especially if God is not the central being within our lives.

She´s the best woman I ever met, but we walked different ways and my present life doesn´t  show what she -or someone else- could be interested to live (besides this, she has a daughter, and I paid too little attention to my own children).

The lesson I learnt is that appearances can lie, feelings could lie and human longings, sexual needs can mislead us all. I enjoyed these days plentifully, like never before, and I wanted to love like never I thought I could (she gave me an additional force I never knew: It was pure love).

Recently, someone on holypal.com wrote about a different way to understand “Love” (he is right) (I will re-published his writing, but I need his permission): 

“For God so loved the world that He GAVE His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life..." (John 3:16).

Love is the most expensive thing.  If you love someone -or something- you will likely give them all you can and have.  Even if you love something less you will still give a little in charity.  You will also invest or give much time to the person or hobby that you love.  It is so important to you that much would be sacrificed for the person or thing.  If you are a parent with a new baby you would give your life for the child if you had to.  God gave his very son because he loved the world.  GIVE is another way to spell LOVE.”

Such a love is giving, giving oneself up to everything and all, same way Jesus did for those who believed and obey God´s word.

Such abandonment is giving everything we own: Any physical and material possession. It is the handing over of the self with any wealth we could think of as owned.

Love, real love is giving up all for the person or being we stop fighting or doubting. 

The lesson Carol left is that I was close to stop doubting or fighting against finding truth; but she failed when having someone else in view. She said “it was love” and “I don´t want to hurt you”, but when I love I have no one else.

Carol moved me inwardly, deeply, and I thank God that I´m getting better, that I still love her, but it won´t be the same. 

First love, always, must be addressed to God.

Secondly it must be addressed to us, ourselves, then it would be shared (securing -always- God´s affairs first).

Love, as a giving up, has too many things involved, but it´s worth living and sharing.

God is the best way to live and learn how to do it well.

There´s a love lesson that Carol reminded me, because God gave us that first: “We love because he first loved us”… Where is it in the Bible?

Each time someone comes this way, letting you know how important you are: Telling you how meaningful your attention is, think of God´s love first.

If this love comes from above, if it is God´s, it will lead you to a holy commitment, it´ll be mingled with human feelings, but truly committed to you in a friendly marriage and deep bonds both can cope and share.

If she or he still have remnants of old relationships not buried, keep a safe place for you.

If her /his views of God are not similar, please, stay away! (Someone will be hurt).

Once we start sharing, talking and giving, we ran the click of loving.

If we constantly meet or write to someone showing attentions, we are open to let them know we´re sharing what we got to give and these things sometimes are sought for someone who dares to share: Both receiving and giving are a love deal, at a certain degree.

Constant giving (or sharing) may give us a hint on a good sign, especially if real trust is developed: Am I a constant friend, a loyal mate, or someone looking after what I want (using or abusing you)?

God gave us a hint: “We love because he first loved us” 

(Deeds are bigger than words) (A simple step leads us ahead).

And I´m thankful for what I received.

Don´t give up loving!(Stand up, walk up and go)

Perfect love does not have troubles with sexual gender nor reasons, but its giving and handing over.

This gift, she gave me, it´s all brand new.

A.T. Oct. 12,  2012