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!