One of my beau’s talents was communication, so as he knew how to use the spoken word, he knew how to convince, he knew how to inspire, he knew how to make me believe what he wanted me to believe. He used that ability to make me wait for him, for years, my figurative song was that Hispanic song of Penelope the woman who stayed waiting for the man she loved for so many years that they both grew old and when she saw him again, they were both so old, her mind was already failing and the image she had and the idealization about him had been deformed over time, that she saw him as a stranger, nothing could happen between them anymore. It was a story with a very sad ending. When I heard that song, I was afraid that the same thing as Penelope could happen to me, but my heartthrob told me over and over that our story would be different. I believed him, I wanted to believe him, although sometimes doubts invaded me like wolves surrounding their prey on a dark moonless night. I continued with the illusion and hope that one day he would come to ask for my hand, and that we would be happy forever as in Disney stories. So many years passed that it was hard for me to leave him after having invested so much in that relationship that at some point it seemed like a dream but it had become tortuous. Because the differences that we had and before seemed strengths for the relationship had now turned against us. We broke the union so many times, due to stupidities, misunderstandings, fatigue, annoyances, power struggles, and disappointments that one fine day after spending a little more than a month of being apart we realized that although we tried no longer there was repair for that bond. It was that I had fallen in love with a very different man, the one who was a true gentleman, he was someone I could trust, someone who would have defended me with his life, someone who gave me the stability that I had never had. Well, no, my beloved no longer existed, he was just a ghost, only I had idealized that he was that way. That person in front of me was a stranger, whom I could no longer trust. The same one who had cared and protected me so much now had a lot of power to hurt me and was using it, and since I had started to love myself, I decided for myself, and chose to walk without him in self-defense.
Amando La Vida 