The Fat Crawler Experience
Journal (April 2002)
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My Journal for April 2002

April 6, 2002


Hello again.  Nothing has really been happening in my life.  Of course I always think that, but then I look back at the entries and realize that it's just not true.  Anyway, I finally finished reading The Diary of Anne Frank.  I often read books, not only to better myself and to gain knowledge and ability to talk about the books, but so that I might impress people with all of the books I've read.  This may seem like the wrong reason to read a book, but I think that's what a lot of people do, but the difference lies in the fact that I'm not afraid to admit it.  I've now started reading Stranger in a Strange Land, by Robert A. Heinlein.  I actually got this book for free when some elderly friends of my parents were moving and they gave us almost every possession they had ever owned.  There is only one real famous reference that I have heard to this book and that is from the Billy Joel song We Didn't Start the Fire.  Because I often read books to impress people, I try to find famous titles, or at least famous authors, so this book has some claim to fame.  It may be more famous than what I realize, as it came out quite some time before I was born, but I have never heard of it otherwise.  However, as is the case with many famous books I read, this one differs in that it is not boring at all.  It has a ring of Madeleine L'Engle mixed with George Orwell in that it is science fiction, but set in the distant future with lots of government control.  It is excellently well-done, what I have read so far, anyway, apart from some of the language that is used.  It often uses expressions from an older time period, such as "Hey, sister, what's in the bag?" and things such as this.  There is also the old standard of men being strong and in control of all situations... except for one comical duo who are the leaders of the country, but that is a different dynamic on purpose.  Moving right along, I went for a second time to see The Royal Tenenbaums.  I hate seeing movies like that, twice in a row, but my friend had not seen it, so I gave in as is my normal custom.  It was still just as good a movie, but it's hard to laugh when you already know all of the jokes.  Last night I sent in my application for an executive position next year for the school radio.  It said no experience necessary, which is good as I have none, so I wrote a very matter-of-fact letter, staying true to my style and expressing my desire to be on the team.  I really hope I get the position as I think I would learn a lot about the music business.  Mind you, it is a tiny radio station with a listening population of about ten, but I think I could learn a lot about the process in general.  There are only thirty-four more days until I get ouf here... I mean, have to go home... God I want out!  Keep it real folks.




April 9, 2002


Here I find myself once again.  Not a whole lot of significance has taken place in my life.  My seventeen year old brother, Thomas, got a new Kia... not that I'm jealous or anything... and I've decided to just not go to my poetry class anymore.  I haven't heard back from my mother yet, so that decision is still subject to negotiation, but I just can't fight that class anymore.  I thought tonight I would tell another story from my file since this has been the excitement the last few days.  This is a general tale of my life from before I the surgery that made me the way I am today.  When I was little I was terrified of wheelchairs.  I may have mentioned before that my parents put the fear of them into me, most likely so I wouldn't end up in one.  It worked and failed.  I was terrified, but I'm in a wheelchair now for different reasons than the norm.  I was a pretty happy kid.  I was always very honest and felt terrible every time I would do even the slightest thing wrong.  This may have been because of our strict religious practices that we had when I was very young.  I was always chubby, but never that severely.  I did walk with a leg brace, though, as I have said, but it didn't hold me back too much.  In Kindergarten I went to a private school that had mostly Jahovah's Witnesses as students.  It was a tiny school, and I think they brainwashed the kids a lot.  We would have religion classes where they would tell us things like, "If you ever saw God's face, it would be so bright that you would go blind."  Because of this I can't begin to tell you how many prayers consisted of me begging God not to let me see his face because I didn't want to be blind.  They also quite clearly told me once that "whatever you ask of God, He will give it to you because He loves you.  All you have to do is ask him".  Well, what do you think is the first thing a little handicapped kid would ask for?  My mother still cries to think about me sitting there asking her why God didn't love me.  I know that the teachers meant well when they told me these things, but it did some serious emotional damage to me when I was young.  I still question at times why this happened to me.  Of course I reason it away and I realize that I'm a better, stronger person for it now, but at times it's hard to reason it all away.  From there my parents left that church because of some corruption within the elders and we joined the Catholic Church.  We've never been serious about it all that much.  We don't go to Church, anyway, and I don't even think some of my little siblings believe in God.  I really couldn't tell you if that's the case.  In first grade I started at the Catholic school that would quickly become my prison.  Some of the kids there made my life pure hell.  There were only five girls in my class any given year I attended that school and about thirty boys.  My only friend for all of those years would be whatever extra student would come there for only a year and then leave.  Every year there would be one new person and I always latched on.  Coincidentally, or maybe not, every one of those friends would move or change schools the next year and I would be left all alone.  I can even name them still.  James, Kelly, David, Clement, 5th grade there was no one, 6th grade in public school was the English teacher, Jean and a girl named Sara, 7th grade was Junior High(where I was extremely popular for the first and last time in my life), and I met Heather, one of my current best friends, then it was back to the Catholic school for the last time with Alejandra (a Mexican exchange student who now goes to the school I study abroad in.  We have become very close once again).  I find it a bit sad that I can narrow it down like that.  Throughout my childhood I sang.  I sang all of the time, in class, in Church, every time I got the chance.  One of my favorite childhood stories about myself is the one about me singing in Church.  My parents had come to hear me sing and the sermon was still being preached, but my mother hadn't really been paying attention.  She was looking at a book from the pew shelf in front of her when all of a sudden she said she heard "the voice of an angel".  She looked up to see who it was and her jaw dropped when she saw it was me.  I have always loved that one.  Well, perhaps this is an odd place to stop, but that last memory has put me in a good mood,so I'm going to sign off with that.




April 12, 2002


Can I get a "woo-woo"?  It is exactly four weeks, that's right, twenty-eight days, until my long-awaited return to the United States of America.  Oh, how I've missed thee!  This week has absolutely flown by for some reason.  I have met some really great people online this week and I am truly thankful for their friendship.  It's really nice to know that people care and that so many can relate so well.  So often we think that we are the only ones going through what we are going through, but I'm finding that no matter how specific our experiences are (and mine are pretty specific) they cause very similar emotions.  We are all connected in our struggles with weight loss.  My struggles may be more or less than what you've experienced, but those bad experiences are what unite us as one group of very spiritually powerful people.  If we stick together and support each other there is nothing that we can't conquer.  Now on to more interesting things, ho hum.  I got very hammered last night.  That's right, your innocent little Danny went to a salsa club and drank a very lot of tequila.  I've only been drunk about three times in my life before last night, but after eight tequilas and three vodkas I was feeling pretty good.  Because of my weight it takes a lot to get me tipsy, but it was a mission last night.  I went with Cara and she danced the night away while I boozed it up.  Now don't think me bad, as I hardly ever drink, and when I do, it's rarely more than one drink, but I was sort of celebrating last night.  I've had a terrible cold the last few days, and still have it, which has completely destroyed my voice and I was feeling a bit bummed over not being able to belt out my country songs for a few days.  Well, yesterday while I was in the shower, I sang along with the whole Dixie Chicks album, Wide Open Spaces (which I might add is one of the best albums ever made), so I celebrated.  I'm so bad, but life goes one.  The sun is shining and I have a friend coming for lunch, so I'm signing off.  Go out and enjoy the sunshine, everyone!  Unless of course you're stranded where there is none, then it sucks to be you!  Later.




April 15, 2002


Twenty-five days and counting until I go home!!!  The days have just been flying by, but I've had a few snags recently.  I have a ton of stuff to write for classes and I have three concerts coming up (remember I sing), and on top of all that I left my card too long in the ATM and the damn thing swallowed it, so that leaves me with only the cash on me until I go home.  It's going to be a long three and a half weeks.  Well, since my night out with Cara I have actually gone out again, but this time to a birthday party.  Now don't worry.  I behaved this time.  I only had three drinks and had to smell that nasty pot all night.  I have personally never even smoked a regular cigarette, so don't worry about Danny touching marijuana.  It just smelled really bad, but anyway... I bought flowers for my room, mostly because they're so cheap here, and I have been getting flack from the other guys in my suite for two days about it.  Sheesh, why is it that a college man can't have flowers in his room unless he's gay?  People just aggravate me at times, but I guess it's normal, however I'm not about to change who I am so that other people are okay with it.  They can deal.  They're just flowers.  I'm really getting excited about my surgery now.  It seems like it has been a lifetime of waiting and now everything's dwindling down.  I've been keeping in touch with my close friends, Nicole and Stephani and they are just both doing awesome.  I am so jealous!  I'm as anxious as I can be and I can't wait to get back so I can get all of the pre-surgery meetings and testing done.  I'm hoping I can get everything done in time for the end of July.  Keep your fingers crossed for me!  Oh, I decided not to take the job at my school this summer.  I thought about it and the school expects students to give back three-fourths of what they earn to Financial Aid (and they would subtract it off of next year's package) while the other fourth would have to go to a mandatory meal plan, so that would leave me with a summer full of work for nothing.  It will also be the last summer that I will be able to stay at home with the family before getting a job and becoming a *ahem* man, so I guess it's for the best.  I'll also have more time to focus on getting stuff done for the surgery.  It's just better this way.  Well, that's been my life the past few days.  Later folks.




April 19, 2002


Only twenty-one more days until I go home!  Woo hoo!  I've been terribly busy this week.  I've had a ton of homework to do that I still haven't finished.  I have three concerts/recitals coming up and I've been practicing day and night.  I love singing, but when I have to go to class too, it can be a little time consuming.  Trust me, I'd much rather be singing than in class!  Well, another turn of events has occurred.  My friend, Natalie, invited me to go to Mexico City this weekend to stay in her father's friend's mansion.  They are having a chauffeur pick us up in his brand new Mercedes!!!  I have never been in a mansion or a Mercedes and on top of that we are going to a music studio where the man has connections and I get to hear real professional demos and possibly meet someone famous!  This is just so awesome and if all goes well, I may make my first connections in the music world tomorrow.  I keep telling myself I'm meeting my destiny tomorrow, but I probably shouldn't be getting my hopes up.  Every time I do I get crushed.  Well, I have another "funny now, not so funny at the time" story to tell.  I was talking to some friends about it earlier today and I wanted to share it.  About a year or two ago my family and I went to the Granby Zoo in Granby, Quebec, in Canada.  It was a nice day out with the family and we were in the monkey area (my favorite!), when we came to the gorilla cage.  There was a row of little kids up close to the window, a tour guide in the door of the passage, and my family was behind the small kids.  I had been trying to do some Sign Language with one of the females and she was actually responding and attempting to copy me.  All of a sudden a huge male gorilla came running and leaped off of a rock that was by the glass, and while roaring very angrily, heaved its entire body through the air at the glass, aiming straight for me!  He fell on the ground, got up, ran around the room, and charged again with less force about three or four more times.  I was terrified, of course, and the kids all ran screaming to their mothers and the tour guide just stood there without saying a word with a look of terror on her face.  Thank God the glass held or I wouldn't be writing this today.  The window pane did actually shake terribly and I am surprised it didn't give, but it held.  My family and I quickly moved on.  I can laugh about it now, but at the time I could've crapped my pants!  I guess that's what I get for being so ugly (just kidding... I know I'm gorgeous!).  Well, now I'm going to go and celebrate my survival.  Goodnight and wish me luck this weekend.




April 24, 2002


This is going to be a long entry.  I am titling it The Rich, the Beautiful, and the Fat Guy in the Wheelchair.  Saturday morning my chorus class had a concert at a local museum.  From there Natalie and I went to her house to meet Marcos, the very rich man we were going to stay with for the weekend.  Marcos seemed very nice and so did his car.  The 2002 Mercedes was the nicest car I have ever personally sat in.  Natalie sat in the front seat with Marcos and I sat in the back seat with the chauffeur.  (Having a chauffeur in Latin American countries is very normal, but usually they would be driving.  He was apparently hired from his job as a Mexico City taxi driver to tell Marcos how to get places and only drives occasionally.  He also has nothing else to do with the story.)  It was a fine drive and I was mostly in awe of my surroundings.  When we got to Mexico City, the chauffeur left us as we went to dinner at an outside corner restaurant name La Buena tierra (i.e. The Good Earth) which was very nice.  I whispered to Natalie that I could never afford to eat at this place and she said, "Danny, you don't have to pay for anything this weekend".  Well she was right.  Marcos paid for everything and during the dinner talk I learned he was also Colombian, like Natalie, which shocked me a little because I thought he was Mexican.  This wouldn't be that significant except that Marcos is by far the richest person I have ever met and when I asked him what he did for work, he would give me answers such as "I do business," or "Let me just say that the business of Mexico wouldn't function without me."  Those answers struck me as a little suspicious, but I figured it was really none of my business and I should just enjoy his generosity.    Well, dinner came to about fifty American dollars, which I also thought weird that Marcos always had dollars and never pesos even though he has lived here in Mexico for over a year.  After dinner we were going to meet some friends of Marcos and Natalie who were record producers and working in their studio.  They were still at dinner when we got to the studio so we went to look for a place to change dollars to pesos.  Marcos gave Natalie about two hundred dollars and asked her to run into the money changing place while we circled the block.  As we were driving around I started asking him questions about his life such as if he missed having a family and things like that.  (I had thought he had a family, but nope.)  Then he went on to tell me about a friend he can just call up, tell the man what he wants the girl to look like, and she will be at his apartment within an hour.  Then he offered me one and I laughed because I thought he was kidding and he looked at me and said, "Danny, I'm not joking.  If you want one, I'll get you one for tonight."  I just said that it was okay and I'd be fine without one.  This isn't even the beginning of the story.  So we came around the block and Natalie came running up to the car and got in.  She said the place was closed, but she went to the store next door and then asked us if we liked the shirt she bought herself... with his money.  She also changed twenty dollars to pesos.  We all laughed, as Marcos seems to have no real concept of the value of money because he has tons of it.  At dinner he gave twenty dollars to a girl that was trying to advertise her family's club and sell chocolates at the same time and she didn't have change, so Natalie said to just keep it.  Well, eventually we made our way back to the studio and waited outside until the two men came back.  When they got there, one of the men, who I thought was another chauffeur, sat down in the driver's seat.  I was the only other person in the car and he turned around and smiled.  Neither of us had said a word and the first thing he did was reach to the back seat and pat my stomach.  I could have vomited.  I just smiled and said hi, but I was completely humiliated.  It turned out that this guy was one of the producers.  We went in, listened to some songs of which I gave my own comments on (and pissed off the main producer, way to go Danny!) and talked about the music business in general for a while.  On the way out, after they moved some vehicles, I saw little shadowy animals on the ground and I asked what they were.  One of the guys told me they were roaches.  EEEEEWWWWW!!!  All of a sudden the other guys go on a stamping rampage and kill all of them.  It was so disgusting I can't even describe it.  Well, as we were saying goodbye the same man reached down and patted me on the stomach again!  I couldn't believe it!  He told me that this place was my home and my studio if I ever wanted it and the other producer I had pissed off just shook my hand, smiled, and said it was nice meeting me.  From there Marcos, Natalie, and I went to find a place where we could have cappuccino.  Being as when people are with Marcos they can never do anything second class, it took us a while to find a place that was "in" enough.  There was valet parking everywhere we went and the cappuccinos were about three dollars each.  That may not seem like much, but in Mexico a cappuccino would run about twenty cents.  After the drinks and some more business talk, including Natalie pretty much getting a lecture about the music business from Marcos, we went back to his place.  Now I exaggerated when I said it was a mansion.  Apparently his mansion is in Guadalajara, but his weekend apartment is in Mexico City.  He has only lived there a week so there is very little furniture.  He told me that the apartment was my home any time I ever wanted to use it.  He told me to just call him up and he will send a chauffeur to come and get me.  Anyway, we were looking around.  This was a very nice apartment.  There were two walls made all out of glass, one looking out of the fourth floor to the courtyard and another that looked out to an odd track built into the side of a giant hill.  There was a huge kitchen with a stocked refrigerator and a cooking range all looking as if none of it had ever been used.  In the living room there were a new suede recliner and a suede couch facing an empty wall and it had its own bathroom.  Then there was my room with two twin beds which had its own bathroom.  There was another room with a keyboard, desk, kareoke machine, and nothing else in it.  Finally there was the master bedroom, with its own bathroom, and a huge mirror over the sink.  As soon as I went into the master bedroom Marcos told me he had cable.  Natalie was still in the kitchen putting something away.  As a joke he put it on the porn channel and laughed and laughed when I made a dumb face.  Then he said he would change it... and put it on another porn channel!  Oh, he thought he was hilarious.  Whatever.  Next came the part that I thought was odd.  Natalie was going to sleep in his bed.  I went to bed with a million thoughts running through my head.  When I awoke the next morning at about 10:30 I could hear both of them talking at the same time, so I knocked.  The first thing I did was laugh because he was on one cell phone and she was on another phone on the other side of the bed.  Marcos has four cell phones *ahem* and Natalie has one on which she gets a thousand calls a day.  After Marcos got up to get dressed for the day I noticed that he had slept on top of the covers and Natalie underneath, but anyhoo.  I was in there and the king size bed looked so comfortable.  Natalie was still in it (and in case I haven't mentioned it, I'm completely and truly in love with this girl and have been for quite some time now) and she told me to get in.  Marcos was standing there and said to go ahead.  I wasted no time climbing in and it was oh so comfortable.  After a few minutes Marcos said that he was going to the grocery store and would be back in about an hour.  After some fiddling with the DVD, he left.  Natalie put on the Guns & Roses song, November Rain.  I had never heard anything by Guns & Roses before, but this was awesome.  The whole CD was just amazing.  Natalie was talking and we were sort of holding hands, and let me tell you, she is more comfortable with me touching her than any woman I have ever met.  And she doesn't let just anyone touch her, but I get to.  Anyway, we were lying there and I was running my fingers up and down her arm and neck and it just seemed perfect.  I said, "I think this could be the best moment of my life".  She just smiled.  She said something and all I could think was If ever there were a time to tell her, now would be it.  I turned my head to her and said, "Would it surprise you if I said I loved you?"  She didn't say anything.  I went on. "I don't expect anything, but I couldn't stand it if something happened to one of us and I never told you."  She said, "Danny, I love you too, but I can't have a boyfriend right now."  So I asked her, "What if things were different?  What if I wasn't leaving and you weren't making the music deals?  Could there have ever been anything between us?"  She didn't say anything.  Then I said, "It's okay if it's no."  She looked me in the eyes and said, "Danny, I love you... but like you were my best friend."  We were both silent for a minute and then she moved closer and started running her fingers up and down my chest.  I said, "I'm glad I told you.  I love you because you treat me like a person, because you aren't afraid to touch me, because you see the person that I really am.  That's what makes you beautiful.  Sure you're pretty, but that's secondary to the beauty that you have inside."  I had started to cry just a little at that point.  She had gotten as close as she could beside me and had started to say something... when Marcos walked in.  It had become plainly obvious over the time we had all spent together that Marcos was interested in Natalie.  He didn't say anything or have any expression.  Natalie hadn't seen him walk in and was still talking to me.  I just said, "Natalie.  Natalie.  Marcos is here, Natalie."  Finally she saw him and didn't say anything.  It looked like we had been doing something, but we hadn't.  He sat down in my wheelchair, put his feet up on the bed, and told us about how his friend had had an attempted kidnapping take place.  Apparently his friend's chauffeur had tried to kidnap him for ransom, and the friend had to jump from the vehicle and was all scraped up on his upper body.  Marcos then got up, attitude dramatically changed, and went to read a magazine in the living room.  Natalie hugged me one last time very tightly and then went to get ready, where I took some pictures of her in front of the mirror that I think will come out beautifully.  I then got up to go back to my room and get dressed.  After a short conversation with Marcos about my surgery, I went back in to see how Natalie was coming along.  We somehow got on the conversation of sexual partners and she told me about two serious boyfriends she had had.  I told her, kind of casually, that I was of course still a virgin, but I think I was ready to take the plunge, so to speak.  She just giggled and didn't say anything.  Then we left to go to the mall at Santa Fe, which was gargantuan.  This man blew money like it was water.  He must have easily spent seven hundred dollars on clothes for Natalie and he insisted on paying for some expensive soap I wanted from The Body Shop.  I was going to pay, but he insisted.  A couple of weeks before, Natalie had been telling me about a guy that she had met that played guitar at The Hard Rock Café, but how he had gotten fired and gotten a new job at The Rain Forest Café.  All she had told me about him was that he was from Argentina, had really long hair, and that she had connected with him the moment she had met him.  So when we went by the café/restaurant she said she had to go to the bathroom.  She didn't want to say anything about him because Marcos apparently hates him with a passion.  This man's name is Damian.  Natalie whispered to me "He's wearing a black suit," and then went off to the bathroom.  I looked everywhere and saw no man with a black suit.  The only man with long hair that I saw was the host, who was dressed in a Tarzan outfit and looked like an ex-porn star who had let his body go.  After we had left I told Natalie that I had only seen a guy dressed like Tarzan who had long hair.  She told me that she had made a mistake and that Tarzan was Damian.  I must have gotten a terrible look on my face because she asked me what was wrong.  I told her how I thought he looked and she kind of laughed.  Then she said that she had to confess.  Though Damian has a girlfriend of two years and is seven years older than her, she had gone on two dates with him in which they slept together on the second.  She said she would never normally do that, but he just seemed perfect for her.  She then told me that he said he would call her the following weekend, didn't call until the next Wednesday, and hadn't called her since.  She wanted to know if she should call him.  I gently explained that he had clearly used her and that she of course shouldn't call him.  (Okay, it's sidebar time.  As you can imagine, this whole situation is eating at me.  First of all she tells me that she only wants to be friends then doubles the flirting.  Then she tells me about an affair she had had with a pathetic guy who she still has feelings for and fails to see the man in front of her who is completely in love.  Maybe I just don't understand women, but I feel completely lost.  Okay, back to the story.)  I say I'm hungry, so we leave to go in search of yet another over-priced restaurant.  We get to a place, I pick a rose out of a vase that is there and give it to Natalie.  We order a dinner that was fantastic.  I tried lobster for the first time, and there was expensive wine, and I had a steak.  It was very good food.  Natalie had obviously gotten drunk.  When the bill came you could have picked my jaw up off the floor.  Of course Marcos wanted to pay with American money, so he asked how much it was.  $157.00!  That's right!  For all three of us.  It was by far the most expensive meal I have ever had.  Even Natalie was surprised and she usually isn't when Marcos is paying.  Next we went in search of a movie theater that would be playing E.T.  We found none, but Marcos ran inside the mall to get a phone card because Natalie's cell phone had run out of minutes.  While he was in there we talked about Damian and why he was a big loser, then we talked about that morning. ------------ She was upset because Marcos was jealous, and said to me "I wouldn't care if I had been kissing you, it's none of his business".  I just kind of laughed, and she commented about how she was still a little drunk.  Then our faces got very close together...noses touching, kind of close.  I was so tempted to just kiss her, but I didn't.  She had been drinking, and I didn't want to take advantage of her.  She said "What would Marcos say if he saw us right now?", and I said I didn't care.  We then left the parking lot, leaving to find Natalie's friend's house, as she was coming out for a drink with us.  As we were going up a street, she turns around and says "I want to do something really bad," and makes a face that she always makes whenever she talks about sex.  I just kind of laughed.  (I should probably mention here that Marcos doesn't speak a word of English, but Natalie is completely fluent, so whenever we didn't want him to understand something, we'd just speak English.)  Natalie then got into an argument with Marcos about how she's sick of him being jealous all the time, and just because he buys her stuff, he doesn't own her.  It was a bit weird, as they had a couple of arguments over the course of the weekend, but when they are done arguing, it's like they had never fought at all.  Marcos, after a few minutes of silence, then called up one of his bosses, the one that pays him the most, apparently, and quit.  Natalie said he was only doing it to get attention from her, and I had no idea what is was really about.  Eventually we found our way to Aurora's house, and then again went in search of an "in" place to have both alcohol and cappuccino.  We ended up at a different La Buena tierra where Natalie invited another old friend, of whose name I can't remember, and we all just sort of sat around enjoying the night.  I went to the bathroom once.  You would think for such a classy place, it would be a little clean.  Not a chance.  There was no paper, and the garbage had been spilled all over the place.  I thought I had seen a lot of writing on bathroom stalls before, but this one took the cake and the milk.  It was just nasty.  Anyway, after we finished there, we dropped Aurora off at home, and then went back to Marcos' apartment.  We had to be up in about five hours, so we all went to bed immediately.  Actually, that isn't true.  I sat up alone for a while in the dark, looking out into the courtyard, thinking about how beautiful and perfect it all was, except for the one missing part.  Then I went to bed.  I was awoken by Marcos nudging me, telling me that I was late.  Apparently Natalie had called to me when she had gotten up, but I hadn't heard her.  We were already supposed to have met the chauffeur that was going to bring us back to school.  I got dressed as quickly as possible, said my goodbye to Marcos (who surprisingly made the offer for his chauffeur to bring me back any time I wanted), and we went down to meet the chauffeur.  I was surprised that we weren't going back in the Mercedes.  We were actually riding in a tiny compact car.  We were both really tired (Natalie and I), but I told Natalie that she could just lie up against me, which she did.  As we were driving out of the city, I saw a giant red, perfectly circular light, off in the distance in the sky.  At first I thought it was just another billboard, but the more I looked, the more I thought it looked like the sun.  I asked the driver if that was the sun, and he said it was.  I was in complete awe, as it was a neon red color because of the pollution of the city, but it was absolutely beautiful.  I tried to get some pictures of it, and eventually the driver pulled over in a good spot so that I could get one.  Natalie looked at it for a second, too, but she had seen it on several occasions before, so she said it was beautiful, and fell back to sleep.  As we left the city, the sun got much brighter and yellow, and for almost the entire ride, I was trying to block the sun from Natalie's eyes so that she could sleep.  Finally, when my arm was straining so much that I didn't think I could do it anymore, she rolled over so that her face was completely in the sun, and I figured she must not mind because she didn't even seem to react.  We got back to town, dropped her things off at her house, and then came to school.  She went to class and that's the last time I saw her, two days ago.  I told a couple of friends about my trip, and I have gotten mixed reviews.  Some say she was just using me and others say it sounds like she has low self-esteem and is afraid to be loved.  I tend to think the latter, as she gets hit on day and night by different guys.  She is truly beautiful, even models for extra money, but men treat her like a piece of meat.  I wish they would treat her like I do.  Cara tells me that she's probably afraid to be truly loved, and thinks that Natalie really does love me, at least as a friend, but probably more than she even realizes herself.  Over the course of the trip, Natalie told me she loved me several times, that she loves to be with me, and that she can't explain it, but she is just happy around me and that I'm the only person where she can act like herself without feeling like someone is judging her.  Whatever the circumstances, the truth is that I love her enough to let her go.  I don't care about anything else as long as she is happy, even if that means not being with me.  If I end up miserable, it doesn't matter, so long as I know that Natalie is smiling.  Well, other stuff has happened since then, but I'll tell it another time, as this entry has surpassed maximum capacity. 




April 27, 2002


I have thought about it, and like my mother, some of you may have a few questions.  I wouldn't usually do what I'm about to do, but I'm going to share part of a letter I wrote to my mother at 5 o'clock this morning, before I went to bed.  It has been changed slightly, but not much.  I just feel it explains how things are and how I feel right now better than anything I could say differently from before.  So here goes...


"I asked her why she sleeps in Marcos' bed when she stays there.  She said that when she went to stay with him the first time, the only furniture that he had in the whole apartment was the bed, and so it just became a habit because it's such a big bed and she can sleep under the covers, and he always sleeps on top.  I asked her if she had ever slept with him, and she just looked at me and said of course she hadn't and she couldn't believe that I would think such a thing.  I then asked where Marcos really got all of his money.  As far as she knows, he owns a huge chain of grocery stores here in Mexico called Gigante (which is one of the biggest chains in Mexico), and that he also was one of the original financiers for Shakira, one of the most popular Latin American stars in the United States, and that they are all just a bunch of friends.  I then pointed out that maybe Marcos wanted more than just a business deal with her, and she said that before she started any of the music stuff with him, they had a long conversation making it very clear that the relationship was purely business and would never involve romance in any way, and that she had never even considered the relationship like that before.  I then proceeded to give her a voice lesson for two and a half hours, as she's never sung out of her falsetto voice, even at her normal level, and I'm teaching her how.  She cried again, as she does when she gets excited about all of the success she's having.  She said she loved me, wanted to pay for my plane ticket to come and stay with her a year from now, and again promised to help my career if she made it before I did, and that she didn't know what she would do without me when I'm gone.  So as we were leaving, I asked her to be my girlfriend.  She said that I was leaving in two weeks, and I said that we could have something for two weeks then, and then who knows.  I said I wanted to kiss her.  She said she couldn't, gave me a big hug, and said that she couldn't kiss me because I'm too much of a friend.  Go figure.  Well, I guess I don't have to worry about that any more.  She also invited me to go to Mexico City again with her"...but "I just don't want to have to be looking at her every second knowing that I'll never have her.  It's bad enough now that I think about her constantly, so I just made up some excuse about why I couldn't go.  She told me that she wanted me to give her voice lessons any time I could, and that she'll be back here to meet me on Monday morning for another.  It's weird.  I'm really heartbroken.  I really do love her, but at the same time, I'm glad that I know for sure.  At least I won't be wondering the rest of my life, and she hasn't made it weird in any way.  Of course her ease with my open emotions just makes it that much harder not to love her.  I know I have to try and forget her, but it's still too soon.  I'll just have to breath in and out, and cry a little less every day, and think about her a little less every day, and remind myself to keep living and smiling, and keep telling myself that it just wasn't meant to be, and that one day it will all make sense, and that it won't always be this hard.  I'll just breath in and out and keep smiling, and I'll survive.  My heart might again turn to stone, but I knew that was a risk when I took a chance on love.  I just bet and lost.  I'll learn from my mistakes this time.  I swore I wouldn't let love hurt me like this again, and I didn't listen to myself.  I'll have to be more careful not to let it happen again this time around, because nothing could feel worse than this loneliness, and if I don't tempt myself, then it won't be a problem.  I'll just breath in and out and smile."


I don't know how else to end this entry.  The end. 


UPDATE:  For those of you who might care, Natalie just called me.  It was odd because she has called me very few times ever, but usually just waited until I saw her again.  She wanted to call and make sure that I still didn't want to go to Mexico City with her.  I said I couldn't.  She then mumbled that she had been thinking a lot and then trailed off.  I didn't push it.  I have to let go.  I can't keep giving myself false hopes.




Go to Next Month (May 2002)

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