Women International Day (Or How to Choose Your Next Girlfriend)

I’ve been very tired…so tired, half slept at work, no motivation at all and plus…I had to be witness of the most scariest request from myself….I never sat on a bench and wrote what I wanted from a woman…not until last week.

But before telling you my surrealistic concerns and requests that I wish I could find in a woman, in 2013, in this planet, at this moment of my life …let me tell you what happened at the Women International Day here in Ottawa. I went to Church for that service. I was expecting a x-ray of the women around the world, not only lesbians but every single woman and girl. I guess I shouldn’t been shock of the Canadian-Ottawa way to say things, here’s the formula:

Positive facts+non mentioning sad or dramatic issues/beautiful testimonies= happy end.

The service was basically testimonies of how women were important in their lives, how some of them had to fight for education, or I don’t know, asking people among the crowd positives facts about women (specially their own mothers). I was upset, nobody said anything about the rape of that poor woman in India, the riots because of that, the same week of this important day, a girl also from India of 7 years old was raped, the women’s condition around the world, abuse, arrangement marriages, lack of education, restrictions at workplaces etc etc etc….things we see or we lived or will see again and again on tv or in our streets. One of the testimonies given from a black woman dared shyly and touched a super underestimated subject. She said: “history is written by the winners”…it was ironic, very ironic…they were writing oral history at the service…they were avoiding issues, not mentioning facts, just showing the nice and positives things…enough, I have enough, did you hear me? ENOUGH. I left in that moment, super upset…mad, I see things on online newspapers, it seems nobody sees the same things or are they consciously blind? or worst…since they winner writes the history, they educate how to express and learn to new generation this silence-blind consciousness and  this create a self-censorship…in all spheres. I don’t remember been that furious….and it’s not only in my congregation…it’s in all Ottawa.

I decided to change my ideas and I went to my 3rd play in a small theater about 3 families in 3 different Christmas….again, a comedy. I didn’t like it at all. Then I checked all the plays available in town online …all comedies I’d say 90% are comedies…not even a single drama, not a classic of Shakespeare…nothing…people want to laugh, the market’s rule: Ottawa want’s to close its eyes…and not to see the ugly true…And I got the impression to have my eyes too open for its standards…too wide open it

Back at home, with anger in my heart and tears in my eyes, I decided to write what I need, or the person should be able to heal and provide those needs I request: she should be intelligent, intellectual, responsible, open minded, spiritual, take care of herself, independent, grounded, artistic, easy going, not picky, with initiative, supportive and with social consciousness…ok, ok, ok., that woman doesn’t exist or probably hasn’t born yet…and I didn’t mention beauty…so …when I finished to do this list, I thought of my American lesbian friend who’s boyfriend, a transsexual FTM and I asked to myself how can they be together despite, the boyfriend, I should say more a butch is not precisely the model of beauty or intelligence. The question that popped up was: Why ugly butches got pretty and nice women? How can they find girlfriends relatively easy. Is it sex? self-confidence? personality? charisma? strong personality? activities? what? but WHAT!!! My few friends at church say I’m social but I always leave the places with empty hands.Then I remember “The L Word” when Alice made a web of ex girlfriends…and then I thought of the friendship algorithm of Sheldon at “The Big Bang Theory” and its endless loop. Two different realities, too similar too dichotomous.

At the same time, when I imagine to have a girlfriend I got scared. First I think I’m going to lose myself in that famous fusion lesbo destruction known in lesbian couples. I don’t know how to have space and leave the other her space. I’m scared to invade and to be invaded. Scared to be dependent, to wait at night until she comes back from work…to be with her in an oasis of happiness that 5 minutes on a couch can offer…not avoiding topics like who’s responsible of groceries, who’s going to pay this or that bill, health issues. Or worse than that, avoiding that your couple doesn’t help you to grow up as a person, not able to listen to you or nor able to talk to her as adult…talking about future, buying a house, how to pay the mortgage, or sleeping beside her not able to reach her….thinking you’re losing her…because of work or differences….what about future? children? what happens when one pushes the other to adoption or pregnancy when she doesn’t want to or feels she’s not ready for that step. How you deal with your insecurities? frustrations? indecision inside the couple? What if you stay with her because you believe there’s nobody else for you….what if you stay just because you don’t want to be alone or because dating again at your age is discouraging…what if you’re avoiding the reality she is not for you. Where is love after all those questions? It sounds is more an ideal than a reality. You see, the couple seems more a ideological battle camp.

Two nights ago I had my 4 erotic dream in my life. I was having sex with a very beautiful woman…I just remember some details, her hair color, her smile, her lips and her breast…instead of waking up with a huge smile I just felt totally crashed…like in the cartoons, a little person walking on the street and suddenly a big piano falls over him. I woke up almost with a drown cry, like my heart was hearth beating for nothing…like there was not essence anywhere, like oxygen wasn’t enough for breading…with a war cry wanting to leave my chest but then…..just silence…just nobody to hear, nobody to talk…no even tears were able to leave my eyes….just another zombie in the building…heading work again…earning money…paying bills, doing some activities, some groceries…the living dead…you can’t imagine how painful can be the silence, how painful can be when you see things while the others ignore them and I cannot imagine all the silence and blindness living in a couple.

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