My mom loves old sayings.
One of my favorite ones goes like this: “El que se quema con leche, ve una vaca y sale corriendo“, which can be translated to “If you get burnt with milk, you see a cow and ran off scared.”
This story is about how I got burnt and how I eventually lost the fear of the cow, for good.
It was a cold night of March. My boyfriend from back then, a nice guy that we’ll call C, my sister Georgi and I were cooking in the messy kitchen of the tiny one bedroom apartment in Cordoba, where I lived with her. C and I had been together for over a year, and I really enjoyed being with him. Things were simple, we were true friends, and I trusted him deeply.
That was my bad, I quickly learnt.
We were listening to music on YouTube, my laptop banging from the other room. The song ended (Ben Harper, I’ll never forget that song), and I went to choose another song to continue the happy playlist while we were laughing and cooking.
When I leant over the computer, I saw the red flag showing I had an unread message on Facebook, and without hesitating I opened the inbox. My inbox, I thought. Once again, my bad.
I didn’t recognize any of the names of the people who sent the messages. That’s when I realized it wasn’t my Facebook account, it was C’s. And all the names were girl names. Some girls I knew, even.
I felt my world crashing down, exactly like all those song lyrics. (That’s how it feels, and I hope it never happens to you.)
You’ll see, I’m a very rational person. Specially in critical moments like that one, I get a cold head. So instead of confronting him right away, I captioned some of the messages quickly. One, two, three different girls. There was a message from me in between them. I felt disgusted.
I took my time and read the messages I had captioned. He’d been seeing other girls, plural, for months.
I went back to the kitchen and my sister knew exactly what had happened just by looking at my face. I must have looked terrible, because she dropped what she had in her hands and came running. “What happened, Ro? Are you OK?”
C took a quick look at me, and realizing what had happened, flew towards the computer, shutting it close while he started stammering explanations and excuses. I opened the door, looked at him and said: “Get out of my house. Now.”
I wish I could say that was the last time I saw him. Unfortunately, sometimes we need to crash and then crash and burn, and that’s what I did. And I used to think it had been a complete waste of time. We even dated for a few more months before I left for the US and finally lost touch completely.
I came back after 5 months in the US and felt completely lost. I had left a life at home, and a big part of it wasn’t there anymore. And what I missed the most about my old life was my ability to trust other people. Somehow, C had taken that away from me. People kept telling me about his affairs and adventures, and I thought it was all so ridiculous. Why had I given him that power? That’s something I’ll never know. And I thought I could never recover from that.
I spent years trying to remember how it worked. I couldn’t take any guy seriously, because I couldn’t take relationships seriously. When I look back, I see that I hurt people I cared about because of this reason. I was a coward, and preferred to ran away instead of confronting my fears and standing up for what I felt.
Until now, that is. Of course, I still discover how much it scares me, imaging that same situation with the person I’ve decided to trust deeply, with all my heart. But the more I know Maxi, the more I know it’s worth it. Putting my feelings on the table again and in that way, risking my sanity for someone like him. I might get burnt again, we can never know. But now I’m keeping this power to myself. I can now assess the pain that’s in store & choose if I’m ready to take the risk of being in love with him.
Have you had an unpleasant experience that scarred your trust? What made you move on?
Stay tuned to Kilo India Delta for more articles from this girl in her 20s.
Thanks for being there and reading these words. My next post will be lighter, I promise.