Tuesday, 27th December 2014
Dearest Friend,
Told you it wouldn't be long before I'm on a roll and bringing myself back to writing again. So, please, don't miss me too much!
It's so strange how the years are flying and I would look back on these words and feel as though they could have been written yesterday. My understanding of life's moments change all the time and evolve as I do spiritually.
Yet, I don't chastise myself for having done so, because in them moments I was in a place of loneliness and contemplating those feelings in order to let go and bring myself back on track.
I can safely say my attempts haven't failed - but there is still so much more to come and so much mysteries to bring itself and be the best I can be in what counts.
I won't always win, I won't always be right - I won't always be the good guy everybody wants me to be...
But I can only aspire for what naturally comes and follow my feelings for whatever that represents in my truth and journey of self-discovery.
I wish I knew enough about myself to trust in changes...but I fear them.
Did I actually say that? How strange, because usually, I'm the one who seeks out a solution and can make clear sense behind the feelings I do be channelling.
For once, I feel fear is my enemy. I desperately want to defeat fears which then bring up doubts and self-loathing.
Once, I was able to thank God for bringing fear and the unexpected into my life, but now I just want to give it back!
I know fear is inevitable and something we need to face in order to appreciate love and new opportunities, but why must some fears be so cruel?
I say this because I'm coming to admit that, by running away from fears I allow for darker things to stark up.
I'm "allowing" it because I so easily let myself be vulnerable with people.
I focus entirely on the giving that, when I run out of things to say, I realize people aren't listening anymore and my intentions end up being misunderstood...
It's in the little things that I give for; that I am a friend and a lover - but when it comes to knowing how I always take the lead, I then wonder where I first receive...
I know I haven't enough life experience to really have the potential to be a kinder person; a more patient friend and a more accepting family member to my wondering relatives.
I hope to work on my self-esteem in the upcoming year and that these concepts can be realized with confidence.
I want to reach the point where my giving heart can exceed beyond this inner place where I feel needy and ultimately lost in my own sorrows!
I know this sounds cheesy, but I want to break free from these barriers and be open to new opportunities.
I hold myself back so much, because I'm always forcing my view to be like those I deeply care for.
And as much as I'd like to slightly ignore that and put my own needs first, I can't. I'm always thinking of ways to help.
It's not what my logic persists, it's what my heart yields to insist... This is why, even when I'm not getting anything in return for my efforts, I give anyway - because I feel it’s the only way to go about accepting sudden changes and facing fears sensibly.
Even as my core emotions hit the surface - pushing me to give in to thrilling temptations and be there "in the moment" - I cut the cord and accept the distance which stands in my ground.
I let things be as they should and not alter any motives to suit my own. This is where my mind tells me: "That's it, Jay. Be disciplined and strong. Good things shall come in good time!" even though my heart questions the logic and makes my body quiver in doubt: "You could have shared another beautiful moment... You could have made it yours and held onto something worth remembering!"
Both voices are very persuasive and have a point in place, but the bottom line is: It's not always about what I want!
Life really doesn't give us all that we want, and obviously, there is a purpose behind for why that is - we have to face hardships and challenges to really understand what it is to be human. Time is precious when it grants us that chance; to grow and find what's true...
I'd like to think my love and giving heart has a reason for feeling this low.
Perhaps, it's building up all its imaginings for what's out there and is overflowing with excitement for that one moment when it should feel true gratitude in a tender presence!
I'm hopeless, I know that; a hopeless romantic maybe, and there are a lot of flaws in me that I'd like to correct - so as to suit the lives of those around me - but I'm afraid I can't do that...
I am on this Earth for my own reasons and wish to relish in those moments that could be described as meaningless and seek out my own experiences to grow as a person in my own way, in my own time.
I'm very much in the dark of my own reflection and don't see much hope in the eyes of true love and having a boyfriend (or girlfriend), that can bravely say I'm his and can turn to him with all my bursting curiosity and share my blossoming observations on life; I can only walk through this life in steps and take matters as they come, while holding my expectations down to a minimum.
I am very much an idealist person and have so much inside me that I long to convey for another soul to recognize and share, but unfortunately human language has its limits and there's only so many words that can be given to be put into understanding; so only myself would ever know the extent of these loving feelings and longings put into place here...
I know they matter and have a purpose for the better humanity to come, but can saying you've found love at your doorstep ever be enough to hold it in trust...?
There is so much else going on behind that infinite love, such as pain, struggle and inner fear...
These all come directly with the one package of a human heart; each fragile enough in their attempts to let love grip their interest and hold their attention, but at the same time love is misinterpreted as being fear and we end up running away from this in order to save ourselves from getting hurt, when really on an emotional level our hearts are crashing into another and combining as one powerful force!
Trust is the one thing we never truly know is there - we just take someone's word for it and hope for the best. That is until actions prove otherwise!
I left M.I.’s as satisfied as can be expected under the circumstances and headed over to Nanny G’s house to see how she, my uncles and Granddad R was keeping.
On arrival, they were pretty engrossed in a trivia board game about celebrity questions and I didn’t as much interfere so I went into the kitchen where the heating in the house was better.
Naturally, as I was by myself, I checked my phone for any social networking updates and it turns out that I received many uplifting messages from friends on Facebook – people wishing me a good day, wondering how I was spending my Christmas and pen-pals wishing I was with them so that I could take in the splendour they were experiencing in faraway places.
At one point a message from Emanoel popped through, asking how I was doing and I told him my day was turning out quite nicely but that seeing all different kinds of relatives were suffocating – as their high emotions brought out very raw vibes – and I just wanted to get away from that and be myself for a while.
He understood right away and took the hint that I wanted to call over. “Of course you can come over, Jason… I’m not anything right now. Just text me when you’re outside The Grove block and I will let you in!”
I smiled to myself, relishing over how grand this opportunity could be for me – that I could finally show myself as a genuine friend to Emanoel and finally let the awkwardness in our near presence to be something of the past and something that is surely unnecessary.
It really matters to me that he can see I’m being a friend and expects nothing more intimate than the openness we allow to bring out in the serene atmosphere.
By us opening up and being personal at our own pace, I see it as a way for us to really understand each other and finally imagine the footsteps we walk in.
As a friend, I can be there for Emanoel at a level that doesn’t leave much pressure.
As a listener I can now take in his perspectives without judgement and imagine it reflects our opposites.
Right now, the possibilities of our friendship can journey much deeper in abundance and isn’t weighed down when we suppress insecurities upon another over the frustrating growth in our sexuality and the emotional responsibilities that come when expected through savouring an “ideal” relationship.
That was all fantasy and superhuman effort.
What we now share is a lot more natural, the frequency between us lighter and the conversations less forced to participate; we now partake in discussion a lot friendlier and less mysterious to make us wonder thereafter.
It seems, we now see each other as independent people finding our own way – seeking out whatever our hearts speak as true and letting life take its course with us.
Though life is filled with the unknown and we never know what will happen next, we let our emotions take us to those fearful places and see how it unfolds while forming our characters; we never know for better or worse – we only know that it is happening and the core experiences are temporary…
We let the world break us and then mend us when necessary; walking through life in hopeless thinking and forgetting the purpose for such humane knowledge.
Only to rediscover that the end result was ourselves being without the pointless worry and recognizing the hope which still blossoms in the human heart!
Before I left, Emanoel mentioned that Angeline wanted to tag along and hang out with us, and since she lived only around the corner from Nan’s, I met her and we walked to The Grove together. She was in a much better mood since I last observed and showed a keener attitude in conversation.
Although she approached me more openly about her feelings and was happy some trust was growing between us, the situation Angeline recently found herself in was far from pleasant.
She spoke of the break up between her and an Irish man and how, the whole time they were together, he was apparently cheating with his ex.
It hurt her more because he cold-heartedly admitted it all over the phone and concluded that he didn’t like her at all.
This break up happened over a month ago and Angeline was now trying to grip herself together by being around all her friends. “More distractions, the better,” she said.
Her excessive drinking habits and delusions that “He doesn’t mean it… That’s all Her talking,” is leaving a strain on her health and makes her hideaway from everybody.
She’d much prefer drowning her sorrows and keeping her head beneath the duvet covers, but this only leaves her far more depressed and in denial throughout the harsh reality…
I listened intently to everything Angeline had to say; taking in all those broken words speaking of betrayal and thought to myself: “Remember you were experiencing a similar pain in losing love from Emanoel, so be easy on her…”
She was really unhappy because of the breakup – but her attitude was nearly insisting on letting the incident down-trod her present chances with people that cared and wanted her to be happy. For instance, Angeline would leave a nightclub if he was in the same place or nearly burst into tears if he approached her.
When it ended between Emanoel and me, I dealt with the break up in a purely different manner.
Come to think of it, my attitude as miserably sentimental, while Angeline was quite outspoken in bitterness.
My comfort zone was listening to uplifting music and distracting myself in the presence of my happier friends, while Angeline needed to complain to cool off her frustration. Eventually, I reached the point of acceptance and could tolerate Emanoel as a person and bring myself to still be friends.
It was a challenge – but has proven to be surprisingly profound, emotionally speaking on me.
The challenge, really, was to better my attitude from the unpleasant situation, and to find a sort of kinship in the end; without quickly taking the easy way out by being accusing and irritable…
In my writing, I’ve obviously shown thoughts and emotions relating to heavy despair and have tempted myself with the illusion that I was a victim by this loss.
The truth is, my aim was to feel loved – without ever thinking my attempts to bring Emanoel closer would fire up on his insecurities; through revealing ourselves in a vulnerable situation.
It was my misinterpretation, to imagine the relationship was genuine – but really there was a miscommunication in some places and it turns out Emanoel was thinking more practically while I was caught up in the euphoria of my own strong emotions and need to feel tenderness from him.
Basically, I was the sentimental one, while Emanoel was more realistic.
To conclude this observation, I thank Emanoel for bringing such raw moments to our connection and I’m humble enough to accept pain as it comes and be grateful for how necessary it serves our knowledge!
When we arrived at The Grove, Angeline and I waited at the entrance block until Emanoel was ready to let us in. Weirdly enough, I still felt nervous about seeing him.
It’s more because I fear the awkwardness when we’re physically near each other and are at a loss for words. It would make outsiders looking in think there was still chemistry stirring between us; in a hidden place (subconsciously) not yet forgotten.
Eventually, he appeared – looking cute as ever – in an oversized grey sweater and gym shorts, with his light brown hair looking messy in the right places. He greeted us both quite courtly with a warm hug and a resounding “hi”. At this point, I behaved casual as ever (emotionless really) and headed into the block with them, until we reached his apartment number.
Upon entering the flat, Emanoel rubbed his hands together in a gesture of excitement – as if he was expecting something positive to come out of this visit – and brought us into the kitchen, where the temperature levels were poor.
“It’s being cold here all over Christmas so I apologize if you freeze!”
He said it more like a joke, while I had to physically close windows and hold my arms together in an embracing manner.
“How do you stand it? Couldn’t you contact the IT or something about the heating?” I asked, without taking into account whether or not it was appropriate to ask.
“Yes, I have. A man has come to check the pipes and has done some plumbing work in the bathroom as well. I just have to wait a few days until its back to normal. But my bedroom heating is fine, and I won’t be here much longer so it’s not a problem…”
I just nodded while taking a seat next to Angeline at the round table, who didn’t say much but rather stared at us talking with her mouth wide open.
Emanoel did so much at once that it was hard to hold his attention in conversation; he quickly made us cups of tea or coffee and put a pizza in the oven to be heated.
I suddenly remembered stashing some Christmas Crackers from Nan’s and rushed to my backpack to retrieve them for Angelica and Emanoel.
They never used the poxy pieces of paper for this occasion, decorated in Christmas colour and had a basic gift or note speaking of unfunny jokes, and I showed them enthusiastically how to play.
I got Angeline and Emanoel to hold either end of the cracker and to pull with all their might, and whoever got the bigger size won – because the gift was revealed to them inside…
We all got our turn thereafter and put the crown-shaped paper on our heads (which really felt like toilet paper) to make the night feel more festive and exciting.
Unfortunately, my head’s too big so the paper tore when Emanoel attempted putting it on me.
I burst into laughter “Your hands are too wavy. Try to be less forceful next time, but thank you… Now my crown looks like the style of a pirate!”
His response wasn’t in words but showed an expression so smug in a smile, as the pride was so visible on his face, that I giggled and awkwardly shuffled my hands through his refined hair. He smiled intently as he looked at me, and said “You’re a funny guy, Jay. It’s nice seeing you look more cheerful.” “Yeah, I agree, Jay!” said Angeline, nodding her head dramatically, as if what Emanoel was saying spoke pure truth. “Thanks, you guys,” I managed.
I had to hide my blushing smile as they both studied me for a moment. I’m terrible when it comes to receiving compliments and reacting appropriately.
But it was truly lovely spending time with them and seeing such happiness flow through us naturally, as we spoke and conversed in reflective conversation.
I looked around the room and remembered how many shadows had passed this place; an evolution of personal growth I never thought were possible…
In that deathly cold kitchen, I remembered those moments that were fleeting and adventures – moments that, at the time, seemed numerous and very much acted out in vain.
Now, when I visualise, I see the beauty behind the loss, the purpose behind the meaningless and deep sadness sheltered behind the effortless joy in these youthful horizons…
I imagined what a lonely place to never come back here and to see even our own shadows long gone from the places we first found teenage love and sudden heartbreak!
“You know,” I said, trying to find the right words, “It’s so strange to think, in a few weeks’ time, you’ll be gone and this place will just become a distant memory. It’s so odd, as you’ve very much become part of our daily lives as a friend. We always expect you to be here doing your thing and winding up on view unexpectedly.”
Emanoel didn’t know what to say to that; he lowered his head and mustered a slight nod. Now I was beginning to sound crazy, so I looked to Angeline for support: “What do you think of it all?”
She looked at Emanoel and then back at me, when it seemed she found what I was getting at, “Eh, I don’t know… Like, Emanoel is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. I’m going to be very sad… It’s gonna be weird not seeing him around, I agree!”
As Angeline said this, I observed Emanoel from across the way and I noticed he was someplace else. I mean, physically he was at our side but his thoughts had taken avenue in a place we weren’t able to discuss.
I imagined he was wondering how his girlfriend in Belgium was doing, who was at home spending Christmas with her family.
She requested that he’d come along but Emanoel didn’t feel as prepared to meet her family right away – in the upcoming weeks of January he would go to Belgium and meet them properly…
I picked up that he was being distant so I inquired: “Are you okay?”
Immediately he rose his head in full alert, “Yeah, I’m okay. I was just thinking, ya know. It’s all so crazy but I think going home would be good for me. I’ll be able to look at my life differently. For sure we’ll all stay in touch, and I hope you will come to visit my city.”
That’s when we had a long discussion about Brazil and Emanoel spoke of the fancy spots in his area; the bars, mountains, views and beautiful landscapes. He was very passionate when it came to talking about Brazil and had the view that the levels of poverty were very similar to that of places in Europe, with the exception that Brazil is a bigger continent and a larger population to compare.
Then I asked: “How did you first meet Angeline? I’m sure you heard her before seeing her!”
They both fell on the sofa laughing, hardly able to hold it in… When you become acquainted with Angeline, you experience her loud personality and her striking attitude: I don’t give a fuck about anything…I live the way I want… I don’t care what people think!” What you see is what you get, basically.
It took Emanoel a minute or two to form clarity of how they met and when it seemed he was sure, he said “I think it was during a night out in Sligo. She approached our friends and spoke in Portuguese, so we were all comfortable getting to know her right away. After a while, we saw her around more regularly and we all hung out at The Grove.”
Angeline laughed, while reminiscing in her head the whole picture, "Yeah, that’s how it was exactly. Fun times!”
It soon started to get late so the three of us played a game of cards around the table and, of course, I was the “sore loser”… Angelica and Emanoel were a lot more competitive game players throughout and he’d say “Jay this is not a game for thinking… You have to be quicker snapping the cards.”
I don’t know why but I got more pleasure out of seeing their smiling faces and their full integrity than the catch of the game of cards… Really, the whole experience was a game of cards – a test already dealt!
At one point Angeline was so desperate to go home and because it was too late to walk from The Grove, I paid for her taxi fare. It was only past midnight so I wasn’t as pushed to leave just yet and Emanoel wanted to show me something.
He beckoned me to follow him into the bedroom before switching off the kitchen light.
I hesitated at first because that room held even deeper secrets of passion and ghostly memories of a past I thought was romantic.
Emanoel organised his bed and tapped the space next to him, asking me to sit if I wanted.
I did, while letting my eyes roam about the place, which now seemed to look more spacious and empty.
It was a space of a place ready to be left; Emanoel was very prepared to go…
Suddenly my eyes met Emanoel’s small wooden desk, where he constantly studied and sat with full concentration.
I looked above the desk, at the small mantelpiece attached to the wall, which signified his most precious memories of being here in Ireland. There were photographs of him and the Belgium girl, mostly kissing and smiling and snaps of them around great sceneries. I figured these were his best memories while being abroad…
“Jay, what do you think?” Emanoel was looking across at me now, asking of my opinion. He was holding the laptop on his lap, as he lay back on the bed, showing on-screen pictures of “utopia”.
“Oh, what is this?” I asked him, paying more attention now towards what he was sharing while browsing the net.
“When I’m returned to Brazil and have settled back at home, I hope to travel by car with my father to Chile. I always wanted to go there, and we could see so many wonderful landscapes along the way. We can go mountain climbing, do great sight-seeing and enjoy the moments… We would pass many attractive locations and explore them, too. It would be a long ride by car but so worth it! Don’t you think?”
The many places Emanoel was showing me were so beautiful and a mark of paradise, that it overwhelmed me – the opportunity to see even one would be enough to satisfy me.
“I think they’re amazing places, Emanoel. You’d have a great time, I’m sure. Be careful in the hot deserts though. Stay close to your dad and follow his instructions; let him lead the way if he’s more experienced in travelling such adventures places… Remember to take plenty of pictures for us all to see on Facebook!”
He laughed while trying to imagine it actually happening, and he said: “I will, for sure…”
Time seemed to have passed so quickly because, by the time Emanoel finished talking about his love for travelling and seeing the world (especially nearly all the areas in South America), it was already 3:30 am. I was waiting for the moment when Emanoel told me to get out, but I see he’s too kind to even do that.
Instead, he wanted to show me an episode of American Horror Story (a great TV show!) and to just lay back and relax together. I took the offer to be genuine but I didn’t think it would end up being so intimate for me.
We didn’t have sex or even go as far as a kiss, but it was the “body language” that spoke for itself. It was how he teased me with the occasional stare and how he kept getting the urge to grip his crotch, especially during the TV show it showed a scene where a milkman arrives at someone’s doorstep…
Emanoel touched himself and asked “Do you like milk, Jason” in a rather hoarse, forced tone of voice.
Stupidly enough, I didn’t give in to the hint that easily: “Eh, sometimes…especially before I go to sleep!”
It was nearly 5 am by the time the episode ended and I took control of the situation this time by deciding to leave.
“It’s getting late, Emanoel. I better get back to Cartron before it gets bright out. Otherwise, I’ll never sleep today! I had fun tonight and thank you for hanging out. It was great. An awesome way to end the Christmas, if you ask me..."
He got up from the bed and walked me to the door, like he always kindly does, and said “Bye Jay,” in almost a sentimental tone. As if he wanted me to stay…
For a minute, I told my mind to shut up as I went to embrace Emanoel and kissed his cheek.
I held him for a minute and I was pure happy – the excitement was flowing – and I was ever so thankful for his companionship. I don’t know why but tears started to stream when I looked into his eyes and told him: “You’re the best friend I could ever ask for… I love you so much, man!”
Just then Emanoel was motionless and his eyes dazed, “you too, Jason, you too… Goodnight.”
And so I left The Grove, longer into the morning than I thought and walked home with the smile glowing on my face.
Emanoel, my dear friend, had made my Christmas special, by him being Emanoel...
And I remember looking back, to take in what just happened, and seen Emanoel watch me leave the corridor; by peaking his little head out from the door, like a hidden ostrich!
Yours, Jay.