Maddie came to my house yesterday. Maddie was telling me about how scared she is at the idea of never finding someone else to spend her life with. Maddie who spent the same weekend when I was practicing for my first competition sleeping with Coach. Maddie who was chosen by Coach amongst dozens of other women. Maddie at least realises that she was lucky.

I couldn’t really answer to that. Not honestly, not fully, not constructively.

Maddie is blind. It takes her ages to understand the reality of things, to accept her feelings, she is insecure and feels weak, but she is the lucky one. If she weren’t that blind, she would see how all her venting is completely useless, because she got her second chance days after she broke up, how she is the one who has spent years with several boyfriends and she spent time alone only when she wanted to. She might have a tendency to want what she has, but it seems to me she got what she wanted anyway.

Can I feel sorry for myself for a minute? I am the one who fought kicking and biting to gain a little confidence, I am the one who took a leap of faith believing I could have more, I could be liked, I could get what I want and in the end I am the one who was turned down. Twice.
Twice again I am the one who can’t get what she wants, twice again I am the one who must say “bad luck”, twice again people changed their mind about me, twice again I am the one who was left behind because they chose somebody else. Twice again I am left wondering what is wrong with me and really now, who is supposed to be afraid of never finding anybody else to spend their life with? I wasn’t but evidently I should be.

“It’s normal, it happens, it’s life”. Bullshit.

And I am the one who knows very well what she wants and what she needs, and the more I go on, the more I believe there is absolutely no use in wanting something you don’t already have, because it’s not like you’re going to get it anyway. I broke up after years with this concept of trying to be grateful and content with what I have only to find myself looking at my life and realising that any time I have wanted things I have never been happy but when I settled at least I wasn’t crying. Why did I ever start believing I have a right to get what I want? Why did ever the possibility of having what I want present itself?

Years ago, before finishing college, I lived in this apartment where there were no hard doors, just curtains hanging from the door frames. One night, my housemate’s sister came over to bake a cake, since she had no oven at home. It was pretty late and I was already in bed, but not yet sleeping. After a while, my room was filled with the most provoking and inviting chocolate smell. I was starving and craving. But the cake wasn’t for us and couldn’t be eaten nor tasted. I spent hours tossing and turning, cursing everything, because the smell just wouldn’t go away.

This is exactly how I feel, as if I had been tempted with something I cannot have, conned. And it’s wrong, but somehow I blame this on Coach. He was the chocolate smell, which reached and flooded my nostrils, but then someone took the cake away. That night I would have never wanted cake if that smell hadn’t filled my room. I am not saying I would still be in love with my husband if I had never met him, but if I hadn’t thought he liked me, maybe I wouldn’t have convinced myself the guys I want may actually ever want me back.

Maddie thinks she is ugly and fat and in need of high maintenance to be presentable, but Coach bought the whole thing. I think I’m cute, fit and fun but I am always the only one sure of that.

It’s basically like any competition. The important thing is never to participate, it’s always to win. Whoever might say the opposite is typically a loser. So case in point, it’s ok to lose if you didn’t give your 100%, but what happens when you put everything into your dragon and you still don’t get to step on the podium? You think it doesn’t matter how much you fight, it’s never going to be enough, you’re just not good enough, it’s not for you.

That’s when you would want to be stunning, that’s why beauty is never enough; I can feel as hot as ever, but the mirror shows what I am, not what I feel, and that’s what people see. And trust me, I don’t think beauty is everything and I am absolutely sure it’s not enough to keep a man, but sure as hell it gives a great hand in convincing him to want to be with you in the first place.

Optimists in my situation would be content with knowing that they will surely meet someone better, divas would say men don’t know what they’re missing and they don’t deserve you. I still think there’s something I am missing in all of this, something I’m doing wrong, because taste is taste, but I don’t get why someone else should be chosen when I’m hotter, smarter and younger, by the by.

Plus I just can’t fathom why these things don’t work both ways. I like different kinds of people, but not so different in the end, they all tend to have at least a common basis. I fish in a category of people where I think I belong too. And it’s not that many of us in the world. If I am that kind of person and look for my kind of person, why don’t they? Am I that low on the ranking?

I am tired, sleep deprived and still stressed from the competition, but I am really pissed off at the world. I have been pissed ever since the competition. It’s not that I didn’t win, albeit that didn’t help, it was because for the first time I was upset because of Maddie. I am not jealous of what they do behind closed doors, but having her around all the time prevented me from having the little more intimacy I needed with him in such a hustle. It’s not like I was planning to make a pass at him or anything, but it was me and him, it was our moment and I needed to be close to him, to hug him, to connect with him… and I couldn’t. And I took it out on him, of all people, and I haven’t had the guts or the chance to apologise properly for this and it’s killing me. And he knows and understands that I was nervous for the competition but that was not it.

“It” is that somehow he can touch me so deep in my soul that I can’t control my reactions. I feel this urge to eliminate the distance between us but at the same time there is some invisible shield around him pushing me away. I have no time and no occasion to build anything resembling a contact between us which could embrace a little more than this teacher/student relationship. We are getting closer, but there seems to be always a barrier, as if none of us could figure out how to handle the other. He keeps hinting at the fact that he knows me and every time he does I can never step up and use it as bait because I am too shocked to react properly.

I realised while I was away for the competition that I’ve been doing this twisted thing with Maddie, I see it much more clearly now than when Hector was around: I try to influence her on how to treat him, no that’s not quite it… I would never give her bad advice just to have him for myself, but I try to soften her ways to prevent her from hurting him or tell her what I think he would appreciate in a given circumstance. I was the one to suggest she should bring him chocolates, I tell her how to approach difficult subjects in a way not to make him run, I defend him and let her see his probable point of view on things when she clearly doesn’t understand what’s going on. I try to protect him and his interests. I don’t think I have ever reached the same level of stupidity in any other circumstance of my existence.

Still, it’s the only thing I can actively do for him, although I wish I could do much more. We were out to dinner with the whole team yesterday and Dave told him how he would like him to step out of the conventional schemes and try to taste the world and its different colours before choosing one straight path ahead and I couldn’t agree more with him. He looks trapped in a cocoon that doesn’t allow him to gain his own shape, while having all of the means to transform into its own unique being. I wish I could give him all the knowledge I have earned to ease him out of this state because he reminds me of me. I understand so well what it means to cover everything under the surface and strike a pose and all I would want to do is crack the surface and look in. And every time he does exactly that with me, consciously or not, he kills me.

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