Thank God for my friends. And for those rare but oh-so-amazing epiphanies.
Last Tuesday I went to Salsa!, a vibrant cool venue in Charing Cross road. Tuesday has become my bachata night since March, when back from travelling and tired of doing online dating I had decided that it was better to spend my time having fun and doing something that I like. Of course, there was always the side thought of hopefully meeting someone interesting that would share my passion for dancing. But we do not live in an ideal world, and though I’ve learnt that at the age of 9, it’s almost moving how I sometimes still hope so. So, nothing came out of all this bachata nights in terms of dating, but I keep going there every Tuesday I can because in any case I love the music, and the atmosphere, and because by now I know most of the regulars there.
And ultimately because I strongly believe that dancing is a vertical expression of a horizontal frustration.
However, I haven’t been that horizontally frustrated lately! Finally!! (To give you an idea of my inner mood in saying this, you should picture the Carnival parade in the Sambadrome in Rio, with upbeat samba blasting out from loud speakers, hundreds of colourful dancers shaking everything they have, thousands of people singing with a beer in their hands).
I went there to have dinner with a lovely friend and update her on what’s happening in my life.
So we are talking, I take her through all the beginning with P. the lumberjack, all the little things that make me say I like him a lot, and she is “Oh! Sweet! That’s great!”, and me: “Well, yeah, but wait.” And I continue, with my tone of voice becoming more and more ominous, trying to stop all her happy nodding and smiles: “Hang on, let me get to the end.” And when I finally get to the “I don’t wanna put any labels to it” speech, and I stop, looking for sympathy in her big dark eyes, she looks confused and say: “…….So? Where does he behave like a dick? You told me the whole story as if in the end he had treated you like shit, but so far he’s just been so nice and sweet. Beware of your negative thinking, as you will make it happen. There is nothing wrong in his words and behaviour for now, everything is legitimate, but by thinking that you already know where this is going, that it will make you suffer, you are actually leading it there. You will end up one day making a bitter remark that is completely out of place, or make him feel guilty for something he is not responsible for, and you will drive him away. Your fears will become reality and it will just be your fault. “ BAM!
… Wow, so true. I knew in principle about the power of positive visualization and the opposite devastating effect of negative thinking. The best part is that I consider myself an optimist, and yet when it comes to dating I have accumulated so many bad experiences in the last three years that I have inevitably changed my approach to things. I just don’t trust good vibes anymore. I mean… Do you?
Why are we so different when it comes to relationships? Why are there so many sides of us that our friends have never seen, and that we show (or try to hide) only in a one-to-one relationship?
I curse all of you, guys who didn’t turn up at dates, leaving me waiting like an idiot (though a pretty one). I spit on you, jerks who said they had a good time and that we should see each other again, and who then never answered my texts. I hate you, bastards, for using words too easily, saying “I really like you, I think I’m falling for you”, so that now I resist them. I despise you, little pieces of shit on a buffalo’s ass, that took me to their beds (or mine, depending on location) with sweet words and banter, to then completely disappear (though there is a 0.4% chance that they actually died the day after, in which case I am sorry because we are anyway talking about the death of a young handsome man). I vomit on all of you because you have instilled so many doubts, and pessimism, and suspicion in what was a positive thinking, optimistic and open heart.
But I’m not letting you win. Oh, no. All of you can fuck off. You have already hurt me enough in different measures, I won’t allow you to ruin also this new dating adventure (… the last famous words?)
So now, if you excuse me, I have to visualise P, smiles, a rodizio, slices of cake, his green chequered shirt sliding on the floor, long kisses, hands, a big empty wall (ehm, ehm….), and put all these elements in a coherent picture…