The Mexican Minute #16

As faithful readers will recall from the special February 14th post, we had a big Valentine’s Day surprise… more Mexican Minutes. We travel back exactly three years to 2010, it seems like someone new is pulling on the Mexican’s heartstrings. We all know  Who is this new girl? Will he be able to survive this passion?

February 14, 2010

My chest is completely constricted. I think this is it. My heart is compounding against the inner walls of my chest. I was instantly mesmorized. First, I went numb, stunned by her power and beauty. Then my heartbeat picked up until it was racing out of my chest. I was frozen there and so was time. Me. Her. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I didn’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day. M. was hinting about it, but I kept trying to change the subject, distracted by thoughts of E. She is the one I would have wanted to spend today with. My heart is still tearing, she hasn’t returned my calls in about a week. I couldn’t bare seeing M. today. I know she’s disappointed, but I just couldn’t. So no M. and no E. . . . no ME. Fuck that shit. I don’t have to succumb to anyone else’s wishes.

Instead I wandered the cold streets of Paris. Reflecting on life and love, and how both elements are so damn fucked up for me right now. Wandering and searching my mind. I stopped in at this little café for a glass of wine. That helped, but my heart was still bitter. Why hadn’t E. replied to any of my calls or the note I left on her door? All these thoughts racing around in my head. I finished my drink and decided to see if she was home, I had to talk to her. I jumped on the metro and thought about what I should say to her. Pulling to a stop at the next station, I look out the window, for inspiration, and that is when I lock eyes with her. I’m captivated. The most beautiful girl I might have ever seen. She’s getting off the train on the other side. I stay frozen like a glacier, incapable of moving. I then realize I had to get off and talk to her. The buzzer sounds and the doors start closing. I rush towards the doors but it’s too late! No! My new princess! 

Panicked. I got off at the next station and ran back to the previous one, scour all the neighboring streets. No sign of her! Anguished and fatigued from running I collapse on an icy bench, not feeling the pain from the cold, only the pain from my aching heart. Despaired, I don’t know how long I sat there. Maybe 30 mins? An hour? Unable to move. Finally I got up with resolve. I could find her. Yes. I would come back tomorrow night. I have to find her, my heart was now hers.

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  • Karin P says:

    You know.

    At one point in my life, I probably would have found elements of this romantic. I mean, I guess this kind of desperate urgency and obsessive action is how we would define “romantic” behavior. Romances are full of this ilk.

    Now that I am older, wiser, jaded, probably not a little grouchy and impatient with youthful lust and “love” (passion, let’s just say) I have mondo eye-rolling, hahahahaha.

    This poor dude. It’s so unfortunate that we cannot club understanding, wisdom, nor enlightenment into someone’s head, else I would really like to try with this kid! Although, I have to say, too, that at least he is not boring, and at least he is pushing himself to live dynamically (if dysfunctionally) and there is a certain respect I have for that.

    I don’t know that I can say I have ever felt completely the way that he has. Maybe almost. Once.

    Perhaps there is something to his approach. At least he will have all this drama to look back on when he is old, and likely alone, heh. Unless he figures a few things out.

    (P.S. I’m so worked up about the Mexican I almost forgot to thank you! The Mexican continues to be a great opportunity for me to foist pop-psych analysis upon him, and for this I have a great time and gratitude for the posts!)

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