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Saturday. I’m a mess today. I got an e-mail from my friend, the one who sent me the weed products. A very long e-mail because for some reason, our way of communication (Words with Friends’ chat), is not working. The stupid game is not working and if I didn’t love it so much, I would have deleted it this week. It’s pissing me off violently.
Anyway, going back to the e-mail. I hated it because she’s feeling the same way I’m feeling right now. And she’s 65 so I can’t stop thinking that there is a chance that the same freaking things we’ll keep happening to me for the next 22 years, and honestly, I can’t handle this crap for another week.
She HATES being alone as much as I do. She hates falling for the wrong men over and over again. She hates all the things going around her now. I can also tick those. That e-mail was so disturbing to me that I’m not sure how to reply, specially after reading the last paragraph: “I know you understand how I feel”. The truth is, I don’t. I’m so confused. I wish I understood how I felt.

“Mom, what did you ask Santa for Christmas?”
“I asked him to surprise me”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t bring me what I asked for last year”
“What did you ask for last year?”
“A boyfriend”
“Aha… but he got you chocolate and candles”
Freaking kids remembering every single detail… Mom asked for a boyfriend and she got chocolate and candles… I wonder what goes through their minds. I wish I could have wrapped a man and placed him under the Christmas tree. It’s not fair that they stop believing because mom has this freaking luck. I don’t dare to say it’s bad luck… It’s just twisted, like me.
Like the time I met this guy at a funeral in 1995. Esteban. I went only to three funerals in my life and I met a guy once, that’s pretty good, right?
Now imagine this situation. Everybody crying three rivers and I couldn’t hide my smile. He looked like Christian Slater and I’m not sure if I wrote this before but I think he’s SO FU#$ING HOT.
This guy, Esteban, was one of the dead guy son’s best friends so it wasn’t difficult to track and trace. So next weekend, when the widow and children visited us, Esteban came along.
There was this tradition in my house, pizza every Sunday evening.
We were all having dinner (my parents, my siblings, the widow plus her children, some friends, Esteban and me).
It was impossible to hide that I liked Esteban and that Esteban liked me.

My mom has a great sense of humor too and if she can embarrass me, she will because she knows that I will blush and laugh my ass off trying to survive the moment. So at one point and I have no idea where that came from (probably because I was day dreaming), I heard my mom commenting about the time I went backpacking to the south of Argentina and got parasites. She gave too much information.
I almost chocked, started laughing, looked at my mom with a WTF and completely red face and said: “Thank you for this one. Even if I stay single, I’ll put you in a nursing home… So don’t even try it”.
Crap… I thought I had lost Esteban that minute so you have to imagine my surprise when next day I opened the door and he was right there asking me if I wanted to go for a walk.
We dated for some weeks but we didn’t have much in common. Anyway, I always thought he was one of the hottest guys I ever met.

About 8.5 years ago when I was pregnant with my 3rd son, we happened to be on the same plane. When I saw him, I called him to say hi. He was as hot as ever and while I was kind of battling my eyelashes and feeling like if my water had broken, my two oldest kids kept asking: “Mom, who is this man?”. Of course, I didn’t answer what I was thinking, they didn’t need to know Mom was person too.
They are learning that now.

~ by DotedOn on December 19, 2015.