It turned out I still have that passion

I didn't even notice that I still have that passion for soccer that made me win a local championship as a teenage, the game that brought me and my first girlfriend on the same place at the same time for the first time (we played against each other and she gave me some bruised leg) just for us to met again a few years later taking the same classes on college. That same game that gave me a spread ankle and got me out of my right feet for days, not a biggie, as a left foot person.

After that, I moved, took home in another country and found hard keep up with my team back in Brazil. I'll love Cruzeiro with all my heart, but I couldn't keep it. As for the Brazilian national team, my interest on that I lost way before. They lost their game, got too much money to keep the passion on. But I never ever had talk about it.

Not until last May, actually. I went to DC and was so excited to go to a museum for the first time in my life, but I just had 2 hours. Really, two freaking hours to see a whole fucking museum...

I never got to the half of it. By the third room, a body guard approached me, I really tried to get him off of me explaining that I went to art school so I would be just fine alone, but what a wrong thing to do... He just started to ask more questions and when I told him that I was from Brazil he just lost it. He said: "ma'am there are just two things I know from Brazil...". I was already annoyed, every Brazilian women know what men thinks about Brazil, then I said: "let me guess carnaval and soccer", and he was surprised: "not quite that. Brazilian soccer is the best in the world, but I was talking about samba!" I was like: really, samba? Don't you dare ask me to dance here you old perv man. Then I said: "well, I don't dance, though." He made a surprised face and said: "Really? You are the first one, I thought every Brazilian women knew how to dance." I laughed "Far from it". He changed his approach because I was putting my headphones on my ears again. I was dying for me some Taylor Swift time, though.

We talked about soccer for almost an hour. Well, I talked. I talked about Neymar and why I don't think he's a good player, I talked about Marta and her FIFA awards that nobody remembers. I even talked about USWNT, I didn't even knew them. I just had saw a bunch of pictures of them down on Hudson River in Manhattan. I knew they were celebrating something but I couldn't pin point.

During that week, back in CT, I learned when it would be the WWC opening. I wanted to watch some games, I've never had watched it before, so I wanted to see how was their game. I watched the second USA's game, I don't really remember against who, because I didn't know shit at that point yet. But they grown on me. I started to cheer on them and even forgot about Brazil, that in my opinion is getting sloppy really early on the pitch. Then I remembered the body-guard's word when we were finishing talking. He said something misogynist about never seen a woman talk about soccer with such a passion and really knows what she was talking about. I was taking aback from it, because the last time I talked about soccer I was in Brazil. I'd call it football and sure as hell I'd have a ton of opinions back at me. I didn't really remember I knew all of that.

I can't play it. I know soccer is too dangerous for someone like me that doesn't have anybody on your back. But I could see that I still love it. I still miss it.

I'm back on bars, even alone, watching games (I'm always the only one watching soccer). And it's good, it feels good. I can see that step-by-step I'm on my way to be a better version of my old self. 

A Broken Me

A broken me wouldn’t like to cry, even though they say that crying is good. A broken me thinks she is just not worth it and it doesn’t matter how she feels or think. A broken me collected broken relationships that just made her even more broken.

A broken me thinks she is beyond repair, that every single thing she does, isn’t enough, it’s wrong.
Well, she is wrong. Finally I can see it like the sun just got out on the sky, I can see everything. The mountains, the space, those that are uneven, those that are pretty even, their beautiful shapes, even those that aren’t neat, that aren’t in perfectly state. There’s a pretty vast space, a log run to get it all and I good place to see all through and from perspective if I want to.

A broken me wouldn’t recognize what little things, like not caring the weight of the world on her chest do with you. A broken me don’t know what it’s like to smile to people without the feeling that she has to do it, so they don’t ask things they don’t understand.

A broken me feel guilt over the way she chose to protect herself blaming other people for things that shaped her. Over scars that if you look at the bigger picture aren’t so ugly.

A broken me wouldn’t think about forgive herself for letting all that shit happen, much less forgive every single person that pass her life and made it a living hell. A broken me grow up in a Christian home but didn’t witness the action of it. A broken me didn’t know how it feels to be loved and sometimes she thinks she’d never love someone, not completely, not unconditionally like she would like to do so.

A broken me got better and is getting better a little bit more every day. Struggling still but seeing things on a different view, from a different view and loving it.

Speaking of, I would love to sit with the thirteen year old me, and have a really long talk with her. I know it would be the very first one in forever but I know that if she knows things that I know today, We’d be in a better place now.

Enough with the past, my life is changing and much more faster than I thought it would be some day a log, long time ago. The thirteen year old me would’ve been proud. She was really, really smart, she survived all that crap and brought me here, though.

I was just a broken me.

Coming Around

I've been quite absent around here...
Life turned over, took some -unexpected- ways, but I always seem find myself coming here. Be it to write some thing to someone that means something to me or to have some safe place where I can simple say something.
Yep, you're reading right, my English improved despite the effort of some people, I could menage to learn something by myself -school here is bored to death anyway- and now I'm working in a place where I have to speak spanish English all the time, and I'm doing very well, thank you very much!
A lot changed. I've been living alone, like, I don't live with my parents anymore (but I sure live with someone else's parents), and hell, I couldn't be better.
Some things happens around the world while I was living away from here, and one of them was the -not too- new law of the land. (Marriage equally is on, bitches!) And with it, came to me a wave of joy, that I'm still drowning. I can't explain, though. All I know is that on that Friday, when I heard on the news that the supreme court approved the bill, all I could do all day was cry like a baby. Like sobbing. I called a friend in Brazil and asked her: "babe, is that normal that I'm crying this much over this news or I'm been a little crazy? I mean, here where I live, we already have marriage..." she said: "babe, I'm here in Brazil. This doesn't affect me in any way and I'm about to cry myself. Why not you?" and then the water works began...
It was like, I knew I was drowning. This much was clear to me, because I stoped swimming a long time ago. But when this news came, it felt like someone trow something for me to hang on, like someone have my back... Crazy, because, you know, a country like this, with millions of people, and I felt like someone just looked out for me, personalty. It was beautiful to see, to read and watch the news and learn about places that it was beginning, and see pictures of couples crying over their paper. That piece of paper that prove that they belong to each other in any possible way that the men's law allow.
Anyway, I spoke too much about old news, I know, but I didn't speak to anyone about my vision of it. I don't think that has anyone that knows my opinion or knows how this affected me in any way, so that was it...
Actually, I'm moving out of my current home. My sister (that got kicked out of my parents house, too) and I will share a house together... That's breaking news!

She

She was everything I didn't want. She was everything I’ll never be. This wasn't so far the worse part of her. She was kind, beautiful, smart. She was a Woman. And I fell for it. I fell badly in love with her.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to fall in love, but I did and guess what? It was the best thing that ever happened.

We met. A little room with a bed and a TV in some hotel lost in the middle of that big city. Nothing that you can really pay attention at first look. Just a door and a little sign saying "hotel".

It was amazing. Her skin against my hand, my skin. Her lips against mine. My body pressured on her body... We lost ourselves on each others arms.

After the edge, we kept our body together, she laid down on my chest and I put my arms around her to cuddle. For me, this is the edge!

But somehow something changed, I could feel it in the air. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

I got off the bed and went to my bag. I’ve got something there. A little black box, no more than 3 inches square. I went back to the bed and said: "Sweetheart, take off your wedding ring for a couple minutes, please."

In her eyes I could see, she was confused, but did it anyway.

I opened the box, there was a simple ring, but that would be better described as a marvelous solitary.

When she saw it, she reacted like little girl embarrassed. She hide her hand, and if I wasn't already in love, would fall for her in that moment.

"Sweetheart, American women used to use a ring with their wedding ring. I know... I know... but I saw this one, and I could see it in you and it was beautiful there. Like it belongs there. And I also know that this wedding ring isn't ours, but even with this much of "even though" that we have, I want you to keep it. It's not to remind you of me, I don't think you need it. If you don't want to, it doesn't need to mean anything. Just a ring, just because. To me, it means that you'll always have a part of me with you, even though it's just a diamond. The solitary means, to me, that you have my solitary heart with you, and it's not a solitary heart anymore."

She was crying, and I just could smile and kiss her lips.

She got off the bed. Put her clothes on without saying anything and left. I didn't know if she was coming back, I just died there. She got my heart with the ring.

I woke up screaming. My heart was crazy on my chest. She woke up by my side scared, and looked at me wondering what was going on.

I just look at her, and lay down again, taking some deep breath, she never take her eyes off me.

I got off the bed and went to my beg. Get something there.

It was just a dream, just a bad dream.

Não é porque

Não é porque você chegou do jeito que chegou,

Que eu não deveria prestar atenção.

Não é porque você não sorri muito,

Que eu não imagine que seu sorriso seja lindo

Não é porque a distância física é filha da puta,

Que eu não posso te querer.

Que eu não posso imaginar te ter.

Que eu não posso querer me perder em você.

Não é porque eu me fecho, que eu tenho medo,

Que eu não queira.

Não é por causa de todos os problemas a nossa volta,

Que nós não deveriamos tentar.

O problema não é o nosso passado, o nosso querer,

A nossa vontade, nem a distância.

O problema não é que eu não saiba dizer o que sinto,

Que eu não me expresse...

Não tem porquê não estarmos juntas

E se eu descobrir, um motivo sequer,

Lutaria até o fim pra torná-lo obsoleto

Não é por falta de querer.

Me devolve teu sorriso?

Esse negócio de dar seu sorriso pra alguém levar consigo é uma tremenda enrascada. As pessoas deveriam pensar duas vezes antes de fazer algo assim.

Eu não penso. Por isso entreguei meu sorriso pra você sem pestanejar. Fiquei um pouco com o seu também, o que foi bom, ao menos enquanto a estadia dele durou. Eu, que me emociono na frente de simples peças de artes, vivia contemplando seu sorriso, dia e noite, sinceramente pensava que era um dos sorrisos mais lindos que eu já tinha visto, e eu já escrevi sobre esse mesmo sorriso.

Seu sorriso me causa amnésia. Quem foi Monet, Klimt, Gogh, Picasso, Miró? Esquecidos por mim.

Mas você resolveu pegar teu sorriso de volta, e eu, como uma moça educada e justa que sou, devolvi.

Só que você nem se importou de devolver o meu. Guardou numa gaveta, escondeu... Você sabe que ele está lá. Sabe que ele é meu, mas não quer devolver por algum motivo.

Ok. Por mim tudo bem você manter meu sorriso, ele já é todo seu mesmo... Eu só queria te pedir: moça, me devolve o teu, me devolve teu sorriso? 

Just say...

I think I like to suffer. Some kind of masochist. That could explain why in the hell I keep listening musics that remember me you or some time that we spent together.
Geez, that hurts. Well, a little part of it, at least. I keep thinking that this little part that hurts is the part of me that really misses you. Because all the other part miss that time that was like yesterday but feels like a million years ago.
I’m pretty sure that I shouldn’t have been doing this to myself. But I insist. I insist in keep you or at least what you were alive here.
Is this a wrong way to live? Yes, it is. Sometimes I like to be wrong, but definitely not on this time.
I get that my feelings for you put more weight on your back or something like this. And I’m trying to not blame you about your overreaction, because in all this time that I've got to know you, I’ve never ever expect that.
That’s ok to not feeling it back, but it’s not ok to hide; To pretend that I don’t exist anymore, specially when we are talking about whom got your back when you were falling apart.
I always said to you: “I don’t know how to play this game.” But I did. I played. I got hurt and I didn’t say anything, because you needed me. And I was there.
So now, that I don’t know what I’m gonna do with this feeling and this musics, could you please just say: “everything is gonna be ok!”?