I see myself sitting up on that high horse; a combination of restraint, class, power and success define me. I am the splitting image of the sincerely well-behaved, disciplined child I once was. The annoying little goody-two-shoes girl who never failed to be teacher's pet. I still see that image reflected in the glimmer of my father's eyes; the image of his pride and joy; his hopes and dreams. But that little girl I see is a stranger to me now. Like a far away image; her figure and features are blurred and unrecognizable. She all of a sudden ceased to exist one day. She vanished by her fears; constrained by such a profound loneliness and despair... For a weight the size of a piano rested; immovably, upon her shoulders. The kind she remembered seeing in cartoons like The Looney Toons when that same piano would fall right on top of a cartoon character; squishing them into an 'accordion-like' position - intending to be funny. To make children like her laugh. Except that she never found that funny at all. It seemed cruel and unnecessary. On top of everything, I suppose it felt too familiar to her. This weight on her shoulders... this identity of hers she had not wanted or created that she was indeed going to be this wonderful person; capable of vast successes, and only suited for this wonderful future that she herself did not envision. She was pretending for her father's sake and of course to keep her mother happy... she was devouring the appraisal she undoubtedly received. She was alone in the world but she pretended nonetheless. Her life was perfect, it seemed. She had her immaculate parents and academic achievements... but these things just overwhelmed her. She was overcome by this savage hurricane of loneliness which would intrude upon her life. She worried and feared because she knew...she just knew, and she wanted to disappear and be free like the chilly waves of a river whose open defiance - in moving about recklessly without a care in the world - fascinated her. She wanted to be free; she wanted the weight of the piano to be lifted off her delicate young shoulders - for she had not been a cartoon character and surely she wasn't capable of assuming an accordion-like position.
The taste of freedom is refreshingly tangy at first but then becomes bitter and rusty - like iron. It tastes like blood; like succumbing to death with your unwillingness to live. Poison. But, I am afraid nothing can shake away this bird in my heart that cannot allow itself to be caged for the life of it! I'm a nerd - not the type you secretly admired for having the courage to reveal their intelligence and actually raise their hand in class despite what ruthless kids would say - but the kind that has a perpetual 'kick me' sign on her back. I can't win. Freedom leaves me hopeless; responsibility overwhelms me! I feel like I haven't got much time to waste now. I see this vision before me; doors slamming shut right before my face, the thrust is so wildly fierce that the wind from the movement shakes me completely. Though the doors never touch me, I always feel this deep penetrating pain at the tip of my nose and find it rather difficult to open my eyes without crying.
Either I succeed now or wither away... That's how I see it.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
My Aladdin [closure]
From the very essence of my youth, my insecurities determined me. I felt like I was born unfinished, lacking what other girls had. I wondered when this hatred of myself transformed into the undying adoration of myself, and began flipping through the pages of my life. I discovered that the single and most drastic impact in my life was shaped by one single footstep belonging to my first love, Juan Gonzalez. If my world were an etch-a-sketch, the moment he walked into my life, it was violently shaken about, and every moment that occurred before him vanished. In my eyes, he was an artist, and I was his blank canvas, awaiting his artistic touch to define me. With each stroke of his paintbrush, he layered coat on top of coat of love that I had never felt before. Unlike the fantasies I'd create of my soul-mate – which I derived as a child from Disney movies like Aladdin– he was a real man; truly attracted and interested in me. The softness and the ruggedness of him were real and unscripted, and our eventual relationship was founded on the basis of my being this blank canvas; naive and new to love and relationships; while he was an artist; a veteran of love and passion. He challenged my ideas and morals and with each violent slash and gentle stroke of his paintbrush he eventually opened my eyes to see the masterpiece I had become.
We exchanged names, and I watched him; like a child, he quietly sat, with his hands placed shyly in his lap; one of them holding a beige M&M's bag. Those were the almond ones, and also my favorite. He must’ve noticed my glaring eyes for he had offered me some. I declined his offer and continued to observe him. Aileen spoke and her conversation was blurred in my mind as I followed, with my eyes, the curve of this crescent-shaped scar beneath his right eye. This indented ridge of self-doubt that I could relate to; had a pinkish hint and was gloriously imperfect. The blur of her voice grew to an awkward silence, as I quickly rearranged my eyesight and realized I had been staring at the one thing she advised me to pretend not to notice. Aware of the embarrassment on his face I asked quite bluntly, "How'd ya get that scar on your face?" and then added "Eatin' pussy?" This was a very famous quote from the all time best movie picture for men, Scarface. After I said that, Aileen, who never saw the movie, appeared mortified – but Juan smiled and I smiled back. We had this unspoken connection – which in maintaining respect for Aileen as well as myself – initially developed into a strong bond; a friendship.
He explained how he had actually gotten the scar from his dog, a Doberman Pit-bull, which bit him in the face. I learned he had raised this dog since it was a newborn puppy and thus was interested in how a dog can bite the face of its owner who raised it since birth. Dogs sense good or bad auras, sure, but I wondered how a dog which was raised since birth could bite its owner’s face. There was certainly something sinister about this guy… I obviously hit a sore note for him as he stumbled in speech, not particularly eager to answer a question he himself did not know. So we changed the subject, and directed our attention to Ashley Simpson’s music video, who, we all agreed, had absolutely no musical talent, or at least not in comparison with her sister, Jessica Simpson. We chatted for a while and the usual silence of my apartment was replaced by our conversation until they bid their goodbyes and left. Little did I know; that on that particular day – with its cool and inviting summer breeze – my life was about to forever change.
It was obvious, the connection between Juan and I. We would talk on the phone for hours at a time about everything, make prank phone calls and laugh about silly things surely only we found funny. While we would wait for Aileen to return from work day in and day out we became best friends and collectively, I felt like we were the three musketeers; consistently together and happy with each other’s company. We spent a lot of time together and exchanged ideas and views of countless topics. It had never occurred to me that this man was more than just a friend at this point. He was something untouchable; this inconceivable notion. Even once they had broken up I remained close friends with him and acted as a means of support for him. I spoke to him on the phone everyday but made sure not to see him. This was also due to a serious condition I was going through.
Days, weeks and months went by as my frailness increased and became obvious now, even when I tried to conceal jutting bones with over-sized thick woolen sweaters. Juan showed significant concern in my isolation. Although his concern was appreciated, it frustrated me. I knew at that moment, my emotional distress and insecurities had gotten out of control. I wanted so badly to go outside and be normal; I wanted not to worry and fear for my own life. I was ashamed of my insurpassable obsession and became completely antisocial. I avoided all physical social encounters and only socialized via telephone or internet. "Why don't you come outside and play basketball with me? It's so nice out!" His sentence jabbed at my heart for I wished so badly for the courage to go outside. I was an absolute psychological mess. Finally, I decided to seek help and end this vicious cycle whose speed had gotten so fast I couldn't step on the brakes anymore without gravity taking over and flinging me into the prickly thorns of the Roses I envisioned lying on my grave. My parents admitted me into an eating disorder clinic in Westchester, New York, where my life was about to change forever. The clinic was a whole other world of change for me in my life, but I can honestly admit I hadn’t been saved by the group therapy or self-esteem increasing exercises. It was Juan Gonzalez who saved me.
I managed to sneak in a cell phone and resumed talking to him every single waking hour. We spoke about everything and after consulting Aileen, who was now in a serious relationship with a man named Sean – the object of her desire ever since she began working at Starbucks - who would come in for his regular caffeinated fix. Even though she had told me she had absolutely no feelings for Juan and was content in her newfound serious relationship with a man who “knew his stuff,” I still felt inclined to avoid the feelings for him I felt developing inside me. He was this forbidden fruit I wasn't meant to indulge myself in. Apart from having been my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, his life was so different than mine. He worked as a porter; his job entitled washing the dishes, sweeping the floor, taking out garbage, and all of the other things I found to be grueling and unappealing. He had endured so much and experienced the real world, while I had been in the constant struggle to break free of the unwavering supervision of my parents. He had been raised by his hardworking mother, his father died at his tender age of nine, and he had gone to all public schools in Queens, until eventually dropping out of high school, which I was no stranger to. At least we could relate to that, I thought. But our reasons were significantly two worlds apart. He had dropped out to follow in the footsteps of his older "gangster" brothers who sold drugs and drove late model cars, while I dropped out because of a mix of emotional distress and a desperate attempt to become independent. I had always felt so inexperienced on so many levels, especially romance. Handicapped by my insecurities, I could only dream and fantasize of my ideal and only reference to love; the Disney movie, Aladdin. I felt trapped within a four-walled castle, bored of everything and waiting for something intensely exciting and life-changing to occur. Like the passionate desire from my beloved poverty-ridden Aladdin, who would teach me of so many things that the world had to offer! He could rescue me from my self-loathe and cure me of my self destructive thoughts and obsessions. To me, I had found my Aladdin in Juan. And just like mine, I felt a burning desire in him to find his soul-mate. We exchanged intimate thoughts and, though my feelings and desire to be with him increased, I struggled to show no sign of it. All I knew of love was that it hurt… And I was too fragile and afraid. The fear had stopped me from immediately letting it be known that I wanted to hold his hand so badly. We remained friends and I successfully held back my feelings for him. As our conversations increased in intimacy, I grew to trust and feel a sense of safety in him. I learned about his painful past, his many failed relationships, his yearning for a father figure in his older brothers which resulted in his previous bad behavior. His resolution to remain reformed and keep a steady job drew me closer to him. I found comfort in his honesty and strong desire to succeed. Soon enough our friendship had run its course and our feelings were beginning to debut. He admitted to me he had very strong feelings for me, which prompted me to reveal mine for him and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I immediately consulted Aileen and it was actually a very humorous reaction. She said, “Take him off my hands, I don’t care!” and continued to praise her beloved Sean. I decided to accept change and learn to love him even if I didn’t know how to love myself. Soon enough I had felt this feeling that was once alien to me; I was in love and nobody else existed our world. It was just me and him; Jazmin and Aladdin.
I wanted to fix myself for so many reasons, but mostly for Juan. I wanted to experience love with him. I trusted him and so I decided to give it a shot as I succumbed to his pursuit of me. We would talk everyday on the phone for hours, I avoided all therapy at the clinic, for he was my therapy. His voice would send chills down my spine and I would lie in my single bed across the room from my roommate, and draw in large fancy script lettering in the back of my notebook, my name and his; together and encircled by a heart pierced by Cupid's arrow. I would picture his heavenly arms around me like an angel, kissing me gently and saving me from my misery and loneliness. Month after month passed by, as he waited for me to return, phone calls after phone calls, ending with "I love you" became my only reason for living, for wanting to fix myself. I felt like I was someone special because he loved me.
After six months of torture, I was released. I was “cured” of my illness, and fully rehabilitated. Food was no longer my enemy, or obsession, but I had gained almost twenty five pounds. I felt massive and unattractive, and like all my hard work trying to escape the clinic had doomed me into the same predicament that I was in before. I was unable to let the object of my infatuation view me in such an unflattering state. It took weeks before I admitted to him I was back from the clinic at home. I returned on Valentines Day, as we had presumed I would, but avoided calling him. We had made plans on Valentines Day to have a romantic dinner with hearts full of fuming passion and love; I envisioned the wings of doves fluttering about carelessly above us in the moonlit sky as we held hands and stared into one another's faces which glowed, hovering above the candlelight. I was a coward and I couldn't let his eyes with which he saw such beauty in me, witness that beauty fade within my glutton-like fat body.
After finally finding out, through my brother that I was home, and had been home all along, he was truly hurt. He asked me why I didn't want to see him and I told him I was still adjusting to being out of "prison." The day came, where Juan grew tired of waiting, and made the decision to lie to me. He told me he was at his new job, as a security guard in Harlem, and forgot his uniform. This was an obvious lie to me, and to anyone for that matter. I decided I would see him anyway. Flaws and all, I needed to give myself that chance, that opportunity of the complete and utter genuine love I so desperately yearned for. His brother, Eddie, picked me up and I went to see Juan. My palms were moist and beads of sweat lined my forehead; I was nervous. I wondered if he would still adore me as he did via telephone. Finally, as we drove up to him, my heart beat harder and I sensed it louder; I felt too shy to speak. As we entered the building for which he worked, I felt a sudden urge to run away. There were no words uttered yet. Then, he spoke, in a hushed manner, revealing his shyness too. I suddenly felt this great deal of comfort and loved him so much for having that power to reassure me even if he didn’t intend to. He showed me around the inside of the building, and outside. We sat on a bench in the park and spoke about our days and how we've missed each other so much. With tears in my eyes, I leaped out of the bench and on to his lap, embracing him and accepting our fate to be together and in love. Tightly clutching him, I shoved my face into his neck and breathed in deep the scent of his skin; the scent of my beloved, and I was truly happy for the first time in my life. He reciprocated the love and kissed me passionately on the lips. This was the true beginning of our relationship.
After spending every day and night together, his love for me had brought about these drastic changes within me. I felt confident for once in my life and when he would tell me I was beautiful; I would feel it from the tips of my toes to the follicles of my hair. He showered me with love and attention and saved me in so many ways that he would never know; I was finally beginning to love myself! He was the remedy for my disease; the love for my self-hate. I couldn’t believe such a perfect human being existed; we were like two distinct puzzle pieces created by God just for each other! His mind was like an unconquerable level of a video game. I kept trying to challenge it, find flaws, but to me, he seemed utterly perfect. Or at least, I thought so.
After a year had passed, the storm arose. The happiness began to fade. His true colors began to present themselves as he would have tantrums and scream at me about the way that I dressed, and was convinced that I desired other men. He became controlling and overbearing and brought about a scornful dismay in me towards him as well. I began to conclude that his jealousy was deriving from a guilty conscience. I never actually believed this to be true, maybe I was in denial, but this conclusion became my miserable reality a year later. I received a phone call one Saturday afternoon as I waited for him to return from work, as I always did. I picked up the phone. It was a woman's voice, one I absolutely did not recognize. I immediately had chills. I just knew this would be bad, I felt a cold current come over me. I stood still answering my name and then not so much to my surprise; she responded she was Juan's wife. My body grew heavy, and against the wall I slipped to the floor. I was struck by so many levels of misery, despair, anger, shock; in a word, Heartbreak. She went on to antagonize me stating she had been with Juan for the past four months and was pregnant with his child. I dropped the phone and as I heard the clanking of it on to the floor, I heard the shattering of my immaculate glass heart. Something terrible had just happened but I sat there in disbelief. The doorman rang up; it was him, the traitor, the liar, and adulterer. I had always known if there would be any foul play within our union, he would be the single culprit. I had always known he had a guilty conscience. He arrived at my door with roses at hand, and like Judas' kiss on Jesus' cheek, betrayed me with no remorse. I was infuriated and outraged. I grabbed the nearest thing to me and began hitting him, crying over and over again at how he'd destroyed my heart. After that day, I vowed to myself never to see him again. It became clear now the reason he was convinced that I was being unfaithful was because he was the one committing adultery! My vision of our names encircled by a heart pierced by Cupid's arrow had diminished. There was an arrow that pierced my heart, but it surely did not belong to Cupid. Heartbroken doesn’t begin to describe my condition. After two and a half years of his lies, I broke up with him and ended the façade I had been living. For a while after our break up, I was torn between feelings of hatred towards him, and the remaining undying love for him. I prayed for the wisdom and strength to survive, and once I gained it, it was permanent. I was inconceivably grateful for this newfound strength and wisdom, even if it did take some time to ensue. I stopped hating him and got closure by forgetting the horrible past and only remembering the good times we’ve had. Now whenever I recall back on our relationship, I only remember how a good friend once saved me from my once-infinite sorrow.
Ever since I was a child, I had always been obsessed with Fairy Tales like Aladdin. I dreamed of being able to replicate such emotions within my life, but I never thought I could love or be loved. For a long time, I was imprisoned by my insecurities and I desperately needed to find love for myself. Juan proved to me I was deserving of love and opened my eyes to that love. In teaching me how to love him, I learned how to love myself too. He granted me two things I will always be grateful to him for; the ability to love myself and the strength to overcome any hurdle. He painted away at me; his canvas, and using soft colors of beauty and tenderness and bold colors of strength and courage – he created something beautiful of me; a masterpiece indeed. It’s as if I had been blindfolded and he finally removed the blindfold to reveal to me my true beauty. The relationship still affects me in every way, but I am mostly grateful for the experience of love even if I didn’t get my happy ending. Even though we weren’t soul-mates, at one point in our lives, we did find an undeniably earth-shattering, life-changing, one of a kind love within each other; and I was truly his Jazmin, as he was truly my Aladdin.
It was a summer afternoon…I remember it like it was yesterday. I sat in my studio apartment, listening to the sounds of car engines ejecting pollution and adolescent kids screaming after one another after being let out from school. These were the things, I thought, that constantly occurred on the streets of New York, where silence was a myth and pollution was our oxygen. Staring at my peach-colored walls, I finally received her phone call. My best friend Aileen had gotten out of work and was walking toward my apartment with her then boyfriend, Juan. She mentions clearly not to question him about his scar. I was excited to see my best friend, not really concerned of her boyfriend and his scar. Beneath my open window, I heard her voice; they arrived momentarily, and rang my bell. As a prank, I stood there beside the elevator door, waiting for it to open so I can jump out and scare the curls on her head straight!! Once the elevator opened, I jumped out, just as I had planned, screaming "BOO!" The only problem was, I was wearing socks, which on the cool smooth surface of the floor, caused me to lose my balance, slipping, and pummeling to the floor right on my behind! We all started to laugh hysterically, forgetting all about the elevator. The door closed, and reopened revealing me, still on the floor, laughing, and Aileen on the floor of the elevator, also laughing to her asphyxiation. Finally, once we regained our composure, we entered my apartment, and sat down on my futon. There he was; I still have the visual of this striking image of a man I used to know; a man that no longer exists.
We exchanged names, and I watched him; like a child, he quietly sat, with his hands placed shyly in his lap; one of them holding a beige M&M's bag. Those were the almond ones, and also my favorite. He must’ve noticed my glaring eyes for he had offered me some. I declined his offer and continued to observe him. Aileen spoke and her conversation was blurred in my mind as I followed, with my eyes, the curve of this crescent-shaped scar beneath his right eye. This indented ridge of self-doubt that I could relate to; had a pinkish hint and was gloriously imperfect. The blur of her voice grew to an awkward silence, as I quickly rearranged my eyesight and realized I had been staring at the one thing she advised me to pretend not to notice. Aware of the embarrassment on his face I asked quite bluntly, "How'd ya get that scar on your face?" and then added "Eatin' pussy?" This was a very famous quote from the all time best movie picture for men, Scarface. After I said that, Aileen, who never saw the movie, appeared mortified – but Juan smiled and I smiled back. We had this unspoken connection – which in maintaining respect for Aileen as well as myself – initially developed into a strong bond; a friendship.
He explained how he had actually gotten the scar from his dog, a Doberman Pit-bull, which bit him in the face. I learned he had raised this dog since it was a newborn puppy and thus was interested in how a dog can bite the face of its owner who raised it since birth. Dogs sense good or bad auras, sure, but I wondered how a dog which was raised since birth could bite its owner’s face. There was certainly something sinister about this guy… I obviously hit a sore note for him as he stumbled in speech, not particularly eager to answer a question he himself did not know. So we changed the subject, and directed our attention to Ashley Simpson’s music video, who, we all agreed, had absolutely no musical talent, or at least not in comparison with her sister, Jessica Simpson. We chatted for a while and the usual silence of my apartment was replaced by our conversation until they bid their goodbyes and left. Little did I know; that on that particular day – with its cool and inviting summer breeze – my life was about to forever change.
It was obvious, the connection between Juan and I. We would talk on the phone for hours at a time about everything, make prank phone calls and laugh about silly things surely only we found funny. While we would wait for Aileen to return from work day in and day out we became best friends and collectively, I felt like we were the three musketeers; consistently together and happy with each other’s company. We spent a lot of time together and exchanged ideas and views of countless topics. It had never occurred to me that this man was more than just a friend at this point. He was something untouchable; this inconceivable notion. Even once they had broken up I remained close friends with him and acted as a means of support for him. I spoke to him on the phone everyday but made sure not to see him. This was also due to a serious condition I was going through.
Days, weeks and months went by as my frailness increased and became obvious now, even when I tried to conceal jutting bones with over-sized thick woolen sweaters. Juan showed significant concern in my isolation. Although his concern was appreciated, it frustrated me. I knew at that moment, my emotional distress and insecurities had gotten out of control. I wanted so badly to go outside and be normal; I wanted not to worry and fear for my own life. I was ashamed of my insurpassable obsession and became completely antisocial. I avoided all physical social encounters and only socialized via telephone or internet. "Why don't you come outside and play basketball with me? It's so nice out!" His sentence jabbed at my heart for I wished so badly for the courage to go outside. I was an absolute psychological mess. Finally, I decided to seek help and end this vicious cycle whose speed had gotten so fast I couldn't step on the brakes anymore without gravity taking over and flinging me into the prickly thorns of the Roses I envisioned lying on my grave. My parents admitted me into an eating disorder clinic in Westchester, New York, where my life was about to change forever. The clinic was a whole other world of change for me in my life, but I can honestly admit I hadn’t been saved by the group therapy or self-esteem increasing exercises. It was Juan Gonzalez who saved me.
I managed to sneak in a cell phone and resumed talking to him every single waking hour. We spoke about everything and after consulting Aileen, who was now in a serious relationship with a man named Sean – the object of her desire ever since she began working at Starbucks - who would come in for his regular caffeinated fix. Even though she had told me she had absolutely no feelings for Juan and was content in her newfound serious relationship with a man who “knew his stuff,” I still felt inclined to avoid the feelings for him I felt developing inside me. He was this forbidden fruit I wasn't meant to indulge myself in. Apart from having been my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, his life was so different than mine. He worked as a porter; his job entitled washing the dishes, sweeping the floor, taking out garbage, and all of the other things I found to be grueling and unappealing. He had endured so much and experienced the real world, while I had been in the constant struggle to break free of the unwavering supervision of my parents. He had been raised by his hardworking mother, his father died at his tender age of nine, and he had gone to all public schools in Queens, until eventually dropping out of high school, which I was no stranger to. At least we could relate to that, I thought. But our reasons were significantly two worlds apart. He had dropped out to follow in the footsteps of his older "gangster" brothers who sold drugs and drove late model cars, while I dropped out because of a mix of emotional distress and a desperate attempt to become independent. I had always felt so inexperienced on so many levels, especially romance. Handicapped by my insecurities, I could only dream and fantasize of my ideal and only reference to love; the Disney movie, Aladdin. I felt trapped within a four-walled castle, bored of everything and waiting for something intensely exciting and life-changing to occur. Like the passionate desire from my beloved poverty-ridden Aladdin, who would teach me of so many things that the world had to offer! He could rescue me from my self-loathe and cure me of my self destructive thoughts and obsessions. To me, I had found my Aladdin in Juan. And just like mine, I felt a burning desire in him to find his soul-mate. We exchanged intimate thoughts and, though my feelings and desire to be with him increased, I struggled to show no sign of it. All I knew of love was that it hurt… And I was too fragile and afraid. The fear had stopped me from immediately letting it be known that I wanted to hold his hand so badly. We remained friends and I successfully held back my feelings for him. As our conversations increased in intimacy, I grew to trust and feel a sense of safety in him. I learned about his painful past, his many failed relationships, his yearning for a father figure in his older brothers which resulted in his previous bad behavior. His resolution to remain reformed and keep a steady job drew me closer to him. I found comfort in his honesty and strong desire to succeed. Soon enough our friendship had run its course and our feelings were beginning to debut. He admitted to me he had very strong feelings for me, which prompted me to reveal mine for him and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I immediately consulted Aileen and it was actually a very humorous reaction. She said, “Take him off my hands, I don’t care!” and continued to praise her beloved Sean. I decided to accept change and learn to love him even if I didn’t know how to love myself. Soon enough I had felt this feeling that was once alien to me; I was in love and nobody else existed our world. It was just me and him; Jazmin and Aladdin.
I wanted to fix myself for so many reasons, but mostly for Juan. I wanted to experience love with him. I trusted him and so I decided to give it a shot as I succumbed to his pursuit of me. We would talk everyday on the phone for hours, I avoided all therapy at the clinic, for he was my therapy. His voice would send chills down my spine and I would lie in my single bed across the room from my roommate, and draw in large fancy script lettering in the back of my notebook, my name and his; together and encircled by a heart pierced by Cupid's arrow. I would picture his heavenly arms around me like an angel, kissing me gently and saving me from my misery and loneliness. Month after month passed by, as he waited for me to return, phone calls after phone calls, ending with "I love you" became my only reason for living, for wanting to fix myself. I felt like I was someone special because he loved me.
After six months of torture, I was released. I was “cured” of my illness, and fully rehabilitated. Food was no longer my enemy, or obsession, but I had gained almost twenty five pounds. I felt massive and unattractive, and like all my hard work trying to escape the clinic had doomed me into the same predicament that I was in before. I was unable to let the object of my infatuation view me in such an unflattering state. It took weeks before I admitted to him I was back from the clinic at home. I returned on Valentines Day, as we had presumed I would, but avoided calling him. We had made plans on Valentines Day to have a romantic dinner with hearts full of fuming passion and love; I envisioned the wings of doves fluttering about carelessly above us in the moonlit sky as we held hands and stared into one another's faces which glowed, hovering above the candlelight. I was a coward and I couldn't let his eyes with which he saw such beauty in me, witness that beauty fade within my glutton-like fat body.
After finally finding out, through my brother that I was home, and had been home all along, he was truly hurt. He asked me why I didn't want to see him and I told him I was still adjusting to being out of "prison." The day came, where Juan grew tired of waiting, and made the decision to lie to me. He told me he was at his new job, as a security guard in Harlem, and forgot his uniform. This was an obvious lie to me, and to anyone for that matter. I decided I would see him anyway. Flaws and all, I needed to give myself that chance, that opportunity of the complete and utter genuine love I so desperately yearned for. His brother, Eddie, picked me up and I went to see Juan. My palms were moist and beads of sweat lined my forehead; I was nervous. I wondered if he would still adore me as he did via telephone. Finally, as we drove up to him, my heart beat harder and I sensed it louder; I felt too shy to speak. As we entered the building for which he worked, I felt a sudden urge to run away. There were no words uttered yet. Then, he spoke, in a hushed manner, revealing his shyness too. I suddenly felt this great deal of comfort and loved him so much for having that power to reassure me even if he didn’t intend to. He showed me around the inside of the building, and outside. We sat on a bench in the park and spoke about our days and how we've missed each other so much. With tears in my eyes, I leaped out of the bench and on to his lap, embracing him and accepting our fate to be together and in love. Tightly clutching him, I shoved my face into his neck and breathed in deep the scent of his skin; the scent of my beloved, and I was truly happy for the first time in my life. He reciprocated the love and kissed me passionately on the lips. This was the true beginning of our relationship.
After spending every day and night together, his love for me had brought about these drastic changes within me. I felt confident for once in my life and when he would tell me I was beautiful; I would feel it from the tips of my toes to the follicles of my hair. He showered me with love and attention and saved me in so many ways that he would never know; I was finally beginning to love myself! He was the remedy for my disease; the love for my self-hate. I couldn’t believe such a perfect human being existed; we were like two distinct puzzle pieces created by God just for each other! His mind was like an unconquerable level of a video game. I kept trying to challenge it, find flaws, but to me, he seemed utterly perfect. Or at least, I thought so.
After a year had passed, the storm arose. The happiness began to fade. His true colors began to present themselves as he would have tantrums and scream at me about the way that I dressed, and was convinced that I desired other men. He became controlling and overbearing and brought about a scornful dismay in me towards him as well. I began to conclude that his jealousy was deriving from a guilty conscience. I never actually believed this to be true, maybe I was in denial, but this conclusion became my miserable reality a year later. I received a phone call one Saturday afternoon as I waited for him to return from work, as I always did. I picked up the phone. It was a woman's voice, one I absolutely did not recognize. I immediately had chills. I just knew this would be bad, I felt a cold current come over me. I stood still answering my name and then not so much to my surprise; she responded she was Juan's wife. My body grew heavy, and against the wall I slipped to the floor. I was struck by so many levels of misery, despair, anger, shock; in a word, Heartbreak. She went on to antagonize me stating she had been with Juan for the past four months and was pregnant with his child. I dropped the phone and as I heard the clanking of it on to the floor, I heard the shattering of my immaculate glass heart. Something terrible had just happened but I sat there in disbelief. The doorman rang up; it was him, the traitor, the liar, and adulterer. I had always known if there would be any foul play within our union, he would be the single culprit. I had always known he had a guilty conscience. He arrived at my door with roses at hand, and like Judas' kiss on Jesus' cheek, betrayed me with no remorse. I was infuriated and outraged. I grabbed the nearest thing to me and began hitting him, crying over and over again at how he'd destroyed my heart. After that day, I vowed to myself never to see him again. It became clear now the reason he was convinced that I was being unfaithful was because he was the one committing adultery! My vision of our names encircled by a heart pierced by Cupid's arrow had diminished. There was an arrow that pierced my heart, but it surely did not belong to Cupid. Heartbroken doesn’t begin to describe my condition. After two and a half years of his lies, I broke up with him and ended the façade I had been living. For a while after our break up, I was torn between feelings of hatred towards him, and the remaining undying love for him. I prayed for the wisdom and strength to survive, and once I gained it, it was permanent. I was inconceivably grateful for this newfound strength and wisdom, even if it did take some time to ensue. I stopped hating him and got closure by forgetting the horrible past and only remembering the good times we’ve had. Now whenever I recall back on our relationship, I only remember how a good friend once saved me from my once-infinite sorrow.
Ever since I was a child, I had always been obsessed with Fairy Tales like Aladdin. I dreamed of being able to replicate such emotions within my life, but I never thought I could love or be loved. For a long time, I was imprisoned by my insecurities and I desperately needed to find love for myself. Juan proved to me I was deserving of love and opened my eyes to that love. In teaching me how to love him, I learned how to love myself too. He granted me two things I will always be grateful to him for; the ability to love myself and the strength to overcome any hurdle. He painted away at me; his canvas, and using soft colors of beauty and tenderness and bold colors of strength and courage – he created something beautiful of me; a masterpiece indeed. It’s as if I had been blindfolded and he finally removed the blindfold to reveal to me my true beauty. The relationship still affects me in every way, but I am mostly grateful for the experience of love even if I didn’t get my happy ending. Even though we weren’t soul-mates, at one point in our lives, we did find an undeniably earth-shattering, life-changing, one of a kind love within each other; and I was truly his Jazmin, as he was truly my Aladdin.
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