If you’re getting fucked over, might as well do it twice

Today I want a tell you a little story about forgiveness. JK. This is a story about someone who fucked me over, big time, and then did it again. And I let him. I want to repeat myself, this is not to demean anyone in the story, as they’re most likely not the same person they were then, I’m sure I’m not. These stories are all to give you all a little insight into how much of an idiot I am.

I was an asshole and an idiot. I forgot about the asshole part until I remembered how this story started. A guy, who is the center of this anecdote, came into my life like a wrecking ball (and not in the Miley Cyrus romantic-licking-a-hammer kind of way). We had known each other for a while, been friendly. We hung out in the same stoner area in college (I was not a stoner, but I studied English Lit, so yeah). For some reason one day we ended up alone in the area we call “El Teatro” and just talked for, like, ever. Me, being the nosey person that I am, asked him very personal questions right off the bat. I distinctly remember asking him how many of the girls who hung out there he had hooked up with, because I knew there were more than just a few. I also didn’t give a flying fuck about boundaries. To this day I think asking outrageous questions is the realest way to get to know someone. For some reason, he wasn’t offended, more like fascinated.

Coincidentally – and this is where me being an asshole comes in – a friend of mine, whom I will give no name to, was also interested in him. Of note: she was interested in him in a far away kind of interest. Like the guy you think is cute in your Behavioral Sciences class, but would never date unless he went out of his way to do so. BUT it doesn’t excuse what I did, it was dickish and sucky and just wrong. GIRL CODE, DAMN IT.

I went into this knowing I was moving to Boston when I graduated, which was about seven months away. So we were dating. He was interesting and smart, kind of haughty and pedantic, but usually with other people so I was okay with it (I usually found it kinda sexy). But then shit happened…

I didn’t trust him. And ladies and gentlemen, I want to advise you to NEVER DO WHAT I DID (and I will tell you why*). I didn’t trust him so I went through his phone (RUDE AF). And of course, I found a few things that sucked here and there, nothing too horrendous, but then I hit the mother load. And it was the worst kind of blow. Unfortunately, this is too personal beyond my life and affects others, so I won’t go into detail. But I will just say, he cheated on me and more. Now that, ladies and gents, sucked dick. It sucked mostly because it hurt my pride. What did she have that I didn’t? Why is he looking for more? Why why why why. And THIS is why cheating is awful.

I packed a bag and he begged for forgiveness. We were months away from breaking up anyway and I enjoyed his company enough so I stayed.

Why.

Did.

I.

Stay.

Our relationship continued seemingly well.

Until again, I didn’t trust him. And I went through his phone again. And there she was, AGAIN.

They had made plans to meet etcetcetc. Needless to say, WTF.

Now, let me retrace my steps. Remember when I told you I didn’t trust him and saw that he had cheated and forgave him? This is where I have a confession to make. I forgave him the first time in large part because I had also “cheated” on him around the time he had “cheated” on me. I wasn’t even sure if we had even cheated on each other since we had been “together” nearly two months at the time. Although, like I said, what he did was worse than cheating, but I like I said, I won’t get into it.

This time, though, I had been faithful. And it made me doubt myself beyond the first time around. It made me doubt myself as a woman, sexually. Which sucks a lot for someone is so open about sexuality. Or for anyone honestly.

Although the relationship had an expiration date, I at least expected a level of respect. And I did not receive it.

I told him I forgave him, because at this point we were less than two months away from me moving away. And I’m really bad with confrontation AKA breakups. So, I was 2x an idiot and stayed AGAIN (HALP).

Whyyyyyy.

I remember my last weeks, where I had pulled away almost entirely. He kept trying to reach me. Did nice things for me. It was too late though. So women/men, realize that we all have a limit. No body, brain, soul was made to endure such abuse. Things snowball and when you realize, it’s too late, and the resentment is TOO MUCH.

NEVER LET IT GET THERE. Communicate, and if that doesn’t work, move on. Because a relationship between two people who loved each other should never end with both parties hating each other and that’s what happens when you let shit snowball.

*LADIES AND MEN ALIKE – NEVER EVER CHECK YOUR PARTNER’S PHONES. I will tell you why, “El que busca encuentra”. Translates to “he/she whom seeks, will find”. You will ALWAYS find something to pick at and argue about. If you aren’t trusting your partner enough to want to check their phone, then something is wrong and you need to address it before you even THINK about actually doing it. I, for one, have now learned to either trust my partner blindly or break it up. It’s not worth the doubt and the questioning and the fighting.

I hope I have depicted myself correcly as the idiot and asshole that I was back then.

Oh and after I told my friend about how well the relationship turned out, she forgave me. Ok, I’m lying, she had already forgiven me, but she did thank me!

Sooooo, there was my anecdote for today. Hope you all enjoyed!

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Ilustration is by Carrie Hartman

Glasses are my thing, and how it happened

So, this morning I woke up as usual, kind of not really aware of my surroundings, and desperately reaching around for my glasses so I can make sense of the world. At this point I’ve been wearing glasses full-time (yes, like a job) for five years. However I had discovered I needed them eight years ago. What happened during those three years before I was wearing them full-time, you ask? I lived in denial. I, for some reason, thought I looked horrible with glasses and would carry them in my bag for only dire situations like class or 3D movies. Sidenote: 3D movies for people with myopia is inhumane torture. Anyway, I remember walking around the University campus and not being able to discern anyone’s face unless they were right next to me. I would constantly get messages from people telling me I was a bitch for ignoring them. If you’re reading this, you now realize I was a vain idiot.

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Me wearing my first Warby Parker glasses.

I can’t really pinpoint the moment I decided, fuck it! I needed glasses desperately. It was ridiculous to walk around half knowing what you were seeing. Truly. Slowly but surely, I began wearing them more and more. Until I reached a point I was wearing them daily, and that’s when it became very important to me which glasses I wore.

Slightly off-topic – you’re all probably wondering, “why don’t you wear contacts?” Good question amigos! I don’t wear contacts because contacts are not my friend. I tried, not too long ago, to wear contacts for the first time. Little did I know you have to try them on and take them off three times successfully at the doctor’s office before they let you leave with them. I was originally scheduled for an hour and a half session. I was there for a little under three hours. My eyes were as red as my anger was and dry as my soul. I literally wanted to strangle them for making me do this. Alas, they let me leave with me having put them in and taken them out TWICE. Yes folks, twice in almost three hours. After that I wore them only for special occasions, like my birthday in Puerto Rico. But really I just didn’t like the feel of them. I decided firmly that they weren’t for me.

Now that that’s been cleared up, I got obsessed with glasses. Maybe a little too obsessed. Please see below my collection.

Shop my glasses: first on the left, second on the left, third on the left, right, bottom.

Also, yes, I’m aware my hair also changes as much as my glasses. What I can I say? I love to change it up!

*There’s also a pair that’s missing form there, but I don’t seem to have any pictures wearing them, which makes sense because they’re my “at home” glasses.

My collection has glasses from Warby Parker, Tom Ford, Miu Miu, and GlassesUSA. They all cater to a side of my personality, which I think is why I have embraced using glasses. I’m not very much on accessorizing, I use the same necklace and watch and nothing else – so I make up for it in glasses.

I’ll never forget a previous boss of mine (she was just five years older than me) came in to work wearing glasses and told me how odd she felt because “glasses are your thing”. And I just felt like there has never been a statement so true. So please blind women everywhere, embrace your blindness and make it cool.

Leave me a comment below telling me how cool I am! Or just make fun of me IDC!

xxxxxx

 

I’m BAAAAACK

Hi All,

I guess, I don’t even know how or where to start. It’s been almost 4 years since I last posted on here? What? Don’t worry, I’m still here being just as awkward and trying to be fab… and still failing. But hey, I am no quitter!

So what’s new? I moved to Boston, fucked up grandly in more ways than one, got an adult job, hated it, left it, moved to DC, have another adult job, still don’t have a 401k cause my money’s in my shoes, and live with my sis now. Uh, I think that sums it up pretty nicely.

So, here’s what’s new with the blog – I want to continue posting about fashion and all that jazz. But I also am going to post my creative writing. As well as any random thoughts/memories/stories that pop into my mind.

Right now I need a creative outlet, and THAT’s what you guys are going to be for me. I need a place to be me without giving a flying fuck about opinions or seeming PC. 9-5 life will do that to you I suppose.

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So, here’s a fun little tidbit of juiciness. I WANT TO PREFACE THIS by saying this story (and any of the stories following) are not being written to make ANYONE, except myself, look bad.

Once upon a time I was young, naive and insecure. Basically, I was every college student trying to “find herself”. Any who, I met this guy, who we will call Joe. I cannot recall for the life of me HOW we met, but it was some type of cyber way, because my brain cannot really exact a physical meeting. Anyway, Joe, for my standards and tastes, was a regulation hottie. He had that classic Guaynabo look (this would make sense if you’re from Puerto Rico) tan skin, brown eyes, brown hair, tall, lean. IDK if I can speak for all girls from other places in PR, but guys, I’ll admit it, I had a thing for Guaynabo boys. Why? IDK. They were a mystical creature from another planet from my point of view. At that time. However, he was not all there in the head. I can’t speak for him now, but he definitely was missing more than a few neurons back in the day.

I didn’t care. I thought he was the cutest thing to look my way. Boy, was I an idiot. We continued this shitty “relationship” (if you dare call it such a thing!) where we spoke all the time ABOUT NOTHING and hardly ever saw each other. Please note, I have been in denial of getting my driver’s license and have made all boys who date me have to pick me up and drop me off in the hell hole called Dorado (not so close to the rest of the world) all my life. In other words, I sucked. But I digress. He called me nearly every day, like I was drug that he needed. I made him feel better about himself when he fucked up. I was there to listen. I was there for him. Snoooooooze fest.

So the time of year came around for Las Fiestas de la Calle San Sebastian (translates to: a party where all Puerto Ricans get drunk collectively and have a shitty time but MUST ATTEND or else you’re nobody). I had planned on meeting up with him, but as goes with this party yearly, your plans usually change. People get lost (once my boyfriend and I lost each other in a crowd NO JOKE NO LIE) and sometimes (most times) people get in arguments and just abandon each other. Ours was a much more drama free situation, I think he just ended up bailing cause his friends were doing so as well. Whatever the case was, I ran into this girl we all (people from Dorado) knew. We will name her Karen. I, being the idiot I was/am, go chat to her because I remember she knows Joe. I’m so excited to finally talk to someone who actually knows him, and after our small talk I ask enthusiastically “You know Joe, right?” and Karen, the young doll that she is, answers “Yeah, I made out with him the other night!”

Pause.

Pause.

Pause.

Awkward silence.

Pause.

“I’ve been kinda dating him” I reply while my body slowly contorts itself into fetal position on the street. (JK! Kinda)

Pause.

Awkward silence.

“Omg, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I-”

Goodbye Karen.

 

Needless to say, he wasn’t hot enough for that shit. I know guys, what a dumb story, but hey, don’t you love awkward moments! I know I do……n’t?

Leave  me a comment with some love and sugar. Or some hate. IDC. #desperateforattention #maybe

xxxxxxx

I Do Not Believe in Marriage

“I Do Not Believe in Marriage”

but i will marry a man who sings lullabies to my stomach, right after I’ve had a big meal. a man who says, “how was your day?” and sounds like “remember i love you”. a man who helps me open jars after my hands are seconds away from bleeding because i’m too stubborn to give up. a man who beats me to the coffeemaker and always gives me the first cup. a man who knows when i’m angry, but will let me tell him on my own time. a man who knows just where to kiss me, so my body becomes a canvas of goose bumps. a man who can draw constellations with the freckles on my back. a man who knows when to be silent and when to be loud. a man who knows how to shake my father’s hand. a man who thinks children are adorable, but in no way wants to procreate. a man who will have my name on the tip of his tongue even when asking for coffee at starbucks.

i do not believe in marriage, but i will put pen to paper for a man who doesn’t believe in marriage, but wants to marry me because he knows he will in no way feel shackled. a man who loves my freedom enough to not call me “his”. a man who will never let me get bored.

I’m Always Afraid to Write of You

You sit across from me, watching, staring. I look away because you’re too much; unashamed in the way you want me. Eyes so full of me, I don’t need a mirror. Devilish grin that screams “Fuck me” and I’m eager to comply. But my body is afraid, pinned to the chair that separates us.

We play a little game. And I realize it’s all a game. Then I wonder, how long will it take for you to leave me? To realize you’ve had your fill and move on to the girl with the curly hair that dances salsa? I wonder, am I still an open book- You interrupt my thoughts, “What are you thinking?”

I do what I do best, lie the way he taught me to… without scratching myself or brushing my hair back. You won’t even notice. And God, it’s nice to have some things that are mine. To have insecurities and doubts that I can keep, bleeding on the palms of my hands. For once, I am alone.

Thought of the Day: Exes

There comes a time in every end of relationship, that the dump-er and/or dump-ee wonders, “Is my ex still the same person I was with?”

            Relationships are complicated in their own right, but breakups are far worse. You suddenly find yourself wandering through the unknown. No matter who did the breaking, it’s still hard to recover from a breakup. You were with someone for some time, your life revolved and shaped itself around that person, and suddenly… Not anymore. So, it’s been established that getting over a breakup is hard. I think, though, that the worst part of a breakup is knowing the person you were with no longer exists.

Past relationships, in my opinion, are great practice. You can’t look back on a relationship and be like “What a waste of time!” If the guy was a dick, you learn you no longer want to date dicks. If he cheated on you, you learn the signs of a cheating man and how to guard your heart a little better. And you also learn how to total someone’s car without leaving evidence… Kidding. All of these relationships in one way or another, shape you. They’re events in your life that take part in shaping the final version of who you are.

With that in mind, not only is your ex different, you are, too. Think about it for a second, if you’ve ever lived through a traumatic experience or something similar, you know that after it happens you’re not the same. So, if for instance you suddenly feel like being around your ex is different and you see him/her leading a different life… Be proud. You know what that means? That means you were enough a core-shaker to alter the way he/she is in some way. Yes, it is hard to look at your ex of only a few months and think, “God, he or she is not the guy I fell in love with”. But keep in mind, you meant something to him/her.

So, I guess the answer is no, your ex is not the same person you were with. He or she is the same person, post-you. As well as you’re the same person, post-him/her. Like John Green says, “The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.” Forgive, learn and move on. Great things lie ahead.

New Purchases!

Hey all,

I know I’ve been sort of AWOL with the fashion part of the blog lately, but I’m back! I made a few purchases I saw necesary for my closet. I’m trying to keep my purchases casual since I’ve hardly been going out lately, so my college outfits are gaining importance. Anywho, here they are:

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Starting off with these new pair of high top converse. I have a pair just like these but low and VERY old. I decided to purchase a new pair because the old ones were so damaged! I love these because they’re versatile and don’t get permanent damage like the white ones.

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These cute whine colored boots from Journey’s! I saw a friend of mine wearing these one day and I had to have them. They’re SUPER comfortable and so stylish. They add oomph to any outfit. I also can’t get over the color. I love them.

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These American Eagle boyfriend shorts. They were on sale and they’re perfect to pair with the aforementioned shoes. So, had to do it.

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These American Eagle midi shorts as well. Because I bought the other ones, these only cost me like $6! I had been wanting a pair of midi shorts since all of mine are kind of too short for college. I walk around pulling my shorts lower all the time. It’s annoying. So, they’re perfect.

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Finally, I purchased this really cute hat from BCBG Generation. I think it’s so versatile and casual. It’s perfect to give any outfit a little bit of detail.

 

I also purchased (but not gonna show) three pairs of socks from F21 that I plan on mixing & matching with the shoes I purchased. And, I also am in the process of switching perfumes. So, right now I’m using Balenciaga’s Florabotanica, but I don’t feel convinced. Any perfumes you guys recommend?

 

What has been going on in your lives? What was your last purchase?

Take care!

xxoo

Forgive and Forget

It kept replaying over and over and over in my head. It was like a CD when you scraped it a bit at the bottom. It just, it was just as painful. His hand in mine, the bullet causing blood to run down his chest. My hands were trembling and his were becoming more and more cold.

“You’ll forget this,” he said in his last breath. FOR-GET THIS. What did he mean? Forget us? Forget him? Forget what happened? None of them were possible.

I bumped into someone and caused her to drop her keys. “Sorry,” I mumbled. She grabbed them and gave me snarky look as she trotted off. Yeah, I hate myself, too.

As I passed the park where he and I had said we would take our children, I saw a pair of cops drinking coffee looking off into the distance. I felt a sudden urge to puke, or yell at them. Not in that exact order.

I don’t know why I blamed the cops. Well, the cops and myself. The therapist kept telling me not to blame myself, so I stuck with the cops. I just, I couldn’t forget it… the call. The cool, calm, collected operator on the line asking me stupid questions while people were getting shot. People were yelling all around me while I hid behind a clothing rack trying to urge the police to GET THERE. And Aaron, he was just being him, watching out for people. Helping a person that had been shot nearby. Every few seconds, I’d look for him to make sure he was okay.

“Finally!” I heard Solomon yell as I approached him. “Took you long enough.”

I tried to contort my face into something that could be considered a smile. Didn’t work. “Sorry.”

His bleached eyebrows shot up. “Dear, you look like a mess.” He wrapped his arms around me and tugged hard.

Pity.

I hated pity.

I pulled out of the embrace and brushed strands of hair out of my face. “So, what was it you wanted to give me?”

He gave me a half-smile that reminded me a bit of Aaron’s. Brothers after all. He searched in his pocket for something and pulled out a small box. One of those boxes.

I took a step back. “Are you telling me you’re proposing to Jack?”

His blue eyes widened, “NO! No way we’re anywhere close to that yet… This is yours.”

My heart stopped. Like the moment I heard the gunman near to where I was on the phone. He grabbed my arm and yanked me out of behind the rack. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I couldn’t think. The gun was resting on my cheek and I could feel my face burning. “I-I…”

Suddenly there was a huge noise coming from where Aaron had been. I could make out a few words. “We’re a Westwood mall, the gunman is about 6’1, Caucasian…” It was Aaron yelling out the man’s appearance.

He pushed me to the ground with all of his force, but I crawled to where Aaron stood with a phone to his ear. His eyes found mine before the gunman shot, he mouthed the words I love you. And before it even happened I knew I was yelling.

“How is this mine? I’ve never seen this before.” I buried my hands in my pockets. It was a terrifying object the one he held in his hands.

He looked down at the ground and sighed. “Aaron gave it to me, to keep safe. He knew how nosy you were. He knew you’d find it.”

I shook my head and my eyes stung. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked at it intently and shrugged. “I somehow know he would have wanted you to have it. To keep it, or sell it to pay for bills. This isn’t mine.”

My breaths became short, I couldn’t even move. “He was going to propose.” I said it, I didn’t ask it. It was clear.

Solomon nodded.

Before I stood up, the gunman had shot himself as well. I just stumbled my way to him with tears clouding my vision. All I could see were red stains across his new blue t-shirt. His skin had become pale. “I love you,” I repeated over and over. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“You have to take this” Solomon said insistently. “He would want that. You know he would.”

My dry lips suddenly spoke, “I’m not sure what he wanted anymore.”

Solomon’s eyebrows pulled together in concern. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. He told me to ‘forget this’. What does that mean?” The words came out of my mouth before I could think them through. I had never told anyone what he said.

He seemed unsurprised by the words. “He wanted you to move on.”

“And how is this helping at all?” I asked pointing at the box he held in his hand.

He stood there, in silence, for a while. He was contemplating the answer. “I guess, to move on, you need to face the pain and the sadness head on. Face it, but not let it consume you.” He looked me over and I knew he meant I had let it consume me.

I looked at the box in his hand. And it was painful.

“You need to face it and forgive.”

I looked up at him and suddenly appreciated him more than ever. He held out the box for me to grab the way Aaron held out his hand for me to grab. “Promise me…” he said as I grabbed it. And well, you know how he ended that sentence.

As Solomon let go of the box and I held it on my own I promised, “I’ll never forget you.”

 

New Stuff! (21 years!!)

Hey there guys!
It feels like forever. I’m sorry for going AWOL, I honestly have no good excuse. My birthday was on the 24th (yeeey!) so I just thought I’d post 2 things I bought with birthday money and my sister’s present.

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I saw this top on sale at the outlets and had to have one. They were in a variety of colors and prints, but this one really caught my eye. It’s just a fun top to pair with a skirt.

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I’ve been wanting a pair of pants like these for ages. These I found at a local store called Valija Gitana, on sale as well. They’re a light, high-waisted pant and I loved how it looked.

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This was my sister’s present. It’s a Zara skirt I’d been lusting after for weeks. I absoutely adore the rufflea at the bottom and how it’s form-fitting.

So, on my birthday I had a lot of things going on with school and work… So, no play for me. On Wednesday I went out and celebrated with a few close friends. Yesterday, I celebrated with my mom. We went to a really nice restaurant and they sang happy birthday to me. It was a really good time.

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Oh, being 21. All the responsibilities!
Anywho, I hope you enjoy my post.

How did you guys celebrate your last birthday? What goods did you get?

Take care!
xxoo