C'est la vie

For those who care -and still know how- to read:

“I Once Was, I No Longer Am” narrates the life of a woman born November 11th, 1990. As an unwanted birth, she was perceived as an object, as a thing. And as such, her father utilized ever since she was a little child. Abusing and raping her. He used to bite her in the process, and she would stare afterwards for hours at the bruises, looking at the figures of teeth in her body. While growing up, even though she tried, she couldn’t get along normally with other kids. Her mind was too busy wondering on the reason & meaning of things. When she did socialize, she imitated those that surrounded her, because she didn’t know anything else. She gave the impression of not having a personality. She found comfort in the company of her dog, a young rottweiler. He didn’t judge her. He always listened and was there for her. Until the day she found him as road kill, gasping for his last breaths near the boulevard. She cried the hardest in her life while she buried him in the garden in the back of her house. Nobody could replace him, not even the many men that promised her love. She had a few boyfriends before she gave up on the four letter word. Somehow they all managed to make her feel worthless and empty. She didn’t fail at love; love failed her. She started living love the way she knew best: take what you can, while you can. Never apologize for her actions, never explain herself, never get too involved, never think twice, never look back. It eased the hurting. At least she thought it did. What people considered bad reputation was just a series of acts that projected all that was missing in her life, like appreciation and understanding. So casual sex and ever changing dates became the motto. One day, while being with a man, blood rushed harder through her veins and images of when she was a little girl started to playback. She started to carefully tie him up while he fell in a heavy sleep. As soon as he woke up, the insults, the questions and pleas began. But she didn’t respond to any of them. He shouted “monster” at her repeatedly. With a cold stare in her face, she started her speech. 2 minutes went by, and with the pliers in her hand, she started pulling his teeth. Fountains of blood dripped out of his mouth. He tried forcing his mouth shut, but couldn’t, his weak body gave in. He fainted, and closed his eyes for the last time. She remembered her dad, the guys in her school years and the ones in which she had wrongfully trusted. Between thoughts she smashed his body with a sledgehammer. Immediate sprains and fractures. Finished the act, she started screaming: “I was never wanted!”, “I am an object!”, “I am a victim!”, “I don’t exist!”. She tried running away to a special place in her mind where she could forget what she had done. This happened on multiple occasions, and the same process repeated itself. Until one day, she really did escape herself and society, writing down what I now recite. Letting go of her burdens, for the first time she smiled honestly. She was finally happy. She was finally free.

This is the story of the girl you had a one night stand with, the girl you never called back, the girl you looked down to because of her physical appearance, the girl you said “I love you” to when you didn’t feel it, the girl you loved and never told her, your girlfriend, the girl you cheat your girlfriend with, your ex-girlfriend who you can’t even say “hi” to, your wife, your sister, your mother. Interesting how ungrateful, unappreciative pieces of shit us men are.

Sincerely,

J. Christopher Ríos Orozco.
October ‘12.