Te extraño, hermosa

"Eres hermoso," I told him. He was putting on his clothes and I was sitting with my legs hanging off the motel room bed. I had just put my clothes on while he was in the bathroom, and he walked out naked. Silently, I watched him put on underwear, then pants, and then look around on the floor for his shirt. Perfect smooth skin that ripples over muscle, his body is beautiful. "Eres heromoso," I told him as he pulled the shirt over his head. "Ah, but hermoso is a very strong word here," he said, stopping to smile at me. He's a beautiful man, but what really makes me melt is his smile. "Yo sé," I said, "You really are beautiful." When he leaned down to kiss me again I couldn't help smiling, too.

He's been away for a little while, only a week, but with new lovers the time always seems to drag between meetings. "Te extraño, hermosa" he texted me yesterday. "Pero hermosa es una palabra fuerza aquí" I texted him back, trying to echo his response to me when I used that word. "Sí" he responded "pero tu lo eres."

Latin men have that way with words. They lavish their women with compliments and declarations of love, they whisper poems into her ears. Amor, cielo, cariño, linda, terms of affection are used in the most casual way. Sometimes it's hard to know what to brush off and what is really meant in a heartfelt way. Does he like me? Am I being played? I ask myself these questions every time I'm with him. But then he'll do something nice like introduce me to his friends as "mi chica" or ask when I want to come meet his mother, and I start to think he really does want me.

I'm still learning Spanish, and I speak it badly. So my conversations can be a bit wonky. But here are some of the things I've learned:

eres hermoso/hermosa- you are beautiful

yo sé- I know

te extraño- I miss you

pero hermosa es una palabra fuerza aquí- but beautiful is a strong word here

sí, pero tu lo eres- yes, but you are

Pretty Hurts

My good friend leaned over and said in a low, conspiratorial voice "I have to tell you two things..." I immediately braced myself for something raunchy and shocking, he's flamboyant and gay and loves to shock people with dirty sex talk. Like the last time I saw him when he described how bottoms need a lot of fiber in their diets. Ew.

"Two things," he said. "First, you've lost so much weight, you look so good. Second, I can tell you've had an amazing orgasm recently." Both things are true, but I demurred. "Just a little weight," I said. "Maybe I have maybe I haven't," I said. He went on, in that way he has, telling me I looked healthy and relaxed, that he could tell the sex was good. Then he asked me about the guy's penis and I turned red and refused to answer anymore questions.

"What ever you're doing, it's working, so keep doing it," he told me, back on the topic of my thinness. I laughed and thanked him, but was silently horrified. I throw up after most of my meals, I told him inside my head. If only you knew.

Full stomach, hate on the brain

Dinner out with a friend last night. I was in a 'fuck it' mood after plans fell through with the boy I've been seeing. I ordered what was sort of a chicken pot pie type dish and a fresh mango juice. Panera Bread-style bread bowl full of chicken and mushrooms, it was warm and filling and delicious. I am always too hot here and for once I was feeling cold and in need of comfort so I ordered it. I ate all the chicken and mushrooms and almost none of the bread. 3/4 of the way through I felt full but I kept going. And then I finished it, telling myself it was alright. Then friend begged and begged me to get ice cream with her so she wouldn't feel 'like such a fatass' (she had gotten a salad for dinner). I compromised with her and ordered myself a latte to sip while she ate her ice cream sundae.

We went to the bathroom together after we paid and I was cursing her in my head the whole time. I wanted to purge so badly, but she was in the stall right next to mine. We took a bus home and I sat in silence the whole 45 minutes just yelling at myself in my head. The full feeling was so triggering, I couldn't stop wishing to be home to get this food out of me. But I knew the bus ride was too long, purging would be pointless by the time I got back.

Spent the evening lying in my hammock, fan pointed in my face. I texted the boy for over an hour, a considerable effort considering the language barrier. We decided to meet today after my classes were done at 7.

Felt horrible about my food yesterday, but today was worse. Granola and milk for breakfast, lemonade and a pastry before a morning meeting (purged in a public restroom) lunch with a new friend and some random backpacker men, then a large dinner of fried pork and tajadas. And I still feel so bingy. I just want to eat everything in sight, and buy more and more and more. I don't know what's set me spinning like this. I was doing so well on not craving or binging, and then the last few days... all I want is food. It's like being me in America again, and I don't want to go back to being that fat sad person ever again. 

Same old

Had to use a flashlight to read what the scale said yesterday, the power was out again. So I did my happy dance in the dark- just under 60kgs, 130lbs! If this scale is to be believed, that means I'm only 5 pounds away from my lowest weight since middle school.

My host mom has noticed, she told me I look "mas flaca, bastante bastante bastante." thinner, much much much thinner. She was exaggerating, but it made me feel all glowy and happy inside. I want more people to notice, and I want to keep losing. I can't wait til I'm comfortably within the 120's.

Host sister is pissing me off more than usual. Today I was watching tv on my computer and she barges in and asks me to pull up some pictures for ideas for her costume. I do what she asks, and then about ten minutes in I get frustrated with her and say "I'm trying to watch something." She gives me a passive aggressive retort that's supposed to make me feel guilty, but I don't. So far every time she's pulled that shit on me I've responded to it, but I won't anymore. She's a spoiled little girl and I'm not going to treat her the way she's used to being treated. Hell no.

Still haven't come up with any plans for my October break, but I need to get out of Cartagena for a while. Doing the same old stuff all the time is driving me crazy. And all I really want is to relax and eat in restaurants and take a million sun-drenched photographs.

Lord give my strength

At the moment, I haven't got the courage to get up and go. Can't tell if it's laziness or discomfort that makes me so unwilling to leave my home lately. I go to work everyday, occasionally the grocery store around the corner. Weekends I go to the old city to dance or walk around with the boy I talked about in my last post. This city is large and sprawling but I only know a few small corners of it. Too afraid to leave my comfort zone to know more.

A girl I do not like wants to travel with me during our break in October. I do not want to go with her, but I don't have anyone else to travel with. My best friend here is going to the coffee region with her mother. Another friend is going to Medellin alone and I don't want to intrude. I need to figure this out fast and work up the courage to say no to the annoying girl who wants to travel with me. I feel bad, but I cannot stand to travel with her. I'm worried that after I tell her I cannot go with her, I won't figure out something to do instead and I'll end up putzing around my house for a full week. What a waste of time. 

My spanish is slowly improving. Very slowly. I get too embarrassed to say a lot of things at once. So I speak mostly in 4 or 5 word sentences, with a very limited range of topics. I wish I could communicate more with the people around me. I've been seeing Francisco a lot lately. We spent the day at the beach last sunday and went out for a walk around and some juice last night. I really like being with him. 

132lbs, I've been maintaining for a few weeks now. My clothes are feeling looser, but the scale says I've only lost one pound since my birthday in August. I keep telling myself I'll feel more comfortable and social if I can manage to lose weight and look better. People will like me more when I'm skinny and it'll all get easier. But I also know that's crazy. Even when I'm skinny I'll still be shy and full of self-doubt.

Tengo miedo

One of the craziest nights of my life on Saturday. Lots of lessons learned.

A retelling:

Spent the whole day Saturday at the mall shopping by myself. It was half heavenly, half a miserable exercise in loneliness and self-hate. I went because I had nothing better to do and because I'm extremely tired of wearing the same 8 or 9 outfits that I brought with me from the states. I loved walking around listening to my podcasts and enjoyed the air conditioning quite a lot. But then there was that enemy, the mirror in the dressing room, and the whole confusing dilemma of sizing in a foreign country. I've lost some weight here, but I'm still very large.

Anyway. I wore one of my new shirts to go out that night. A green patterned tank top with a cutout in the back. Blue j crew shorts, brown leather wedges, dangly earrings, smoky eye make-up. I looked good. My host sister and her date drove me into town, dropped me off at the bar where I'd meet my friend Mo. He was late (as always) so I met him at a famous plaza where all the gringos and argentinian backpackers hangout. We drank a little and talked, I met some fellow volunteers from Denmark and Canada and some backpackers from France. Then a Colombian guy named Francisco introduced himself. He is so cute! Dark and muscle-y with a charming smile. We talked all the way to the party that Mo had heard about down the street. I felt confident in my spanish at that moment, and that felt really nice.

Got to the party. It was much more electronica and reggae than the salsa and champeta I've gotten used to. The smell of pot was everywhere, I'm sure lots of other drugs. Blue lazer lights, a big sound system, a bar with over-priced beers and margaritas. I talked to a bunch of people, then found my way back to Francisco. We started dancing, and then suddenly it was clear to both of us there was something more going on. Our bodies got closer, he was whispering in my ear, and then we were kissing. Maybe an hour passed, I have no idea the time. Suddenly my host sister came and broke the spell. "I can't believe you are dancing that way with this guy! He is so ugly!" I looked at her, shocked. She looked disgusted with me. "We have to go. Now" she told me. I gave Francisco my number and followed her down the steep stairs to the street. She started telling me how horrible he is, so champetua and not the type of guy I should hangout with. I started to get angry with her. How dare she tell me who I could like? How dare she judge someone she's never even talked to? We fought on the street and I felt indignant. So she left and I stayed. I went back to the party and Francisco had left.

Distraught, I went back to my new friends the French backpackers, and struck up conversation. We talked awhile, then danced some. My friend Mo found some weed and I had a few puffs, thinking it would be just like when I smoked back home. I hadn't smoked in months and wasn't used to it anymore. Immediately I regretted everything. I was so paranoid, anxious, and lost in my own thoughts. I didn't want to feel this way anymore. The guy who had given it to me noticed and tried to calm me down but I felt awful. Time to go, I thought, and asked Mo to help me grab a cab.

We left the party; Me, a Dutch girl, a French guy, a Colombian I didn't know, and Mo. As we walked down the stairs I told Mo I felt way too high and he laughed while telling me he'd find me a cab. But before he could do that, his drunk ass got into a fight with a drunk old man. "Que pasa?!" he asked in that awful loud drunk way american college students have. The man understandingly took this tone as aggressive and got worked up. He threw a glass bottle at us and the shards hit my legs. I freaked. Didn't look back, just speed walked away from the yelling and the sound of more bottles smashing. "What the hell were you thinking?!' I yelled at Mo. "We're in a foreign country, you can't act like that!" He laughed it off and went to hail me a cab.

We're waiting on the sidewalk, the Colombian and I nervously laughing about how drunk Mo is acting. Everyone is a little freaked out. Then the police show up and my heart starts beating hard. My high brain is on overdrive, super paranoid and now filling with adrenaline. Two cops walk over and start asking questions. Thank God there is a Colombian here to talk to them, my Spanish is not good enough for this situation. While one questions us, the other starts searching the French guy. Pats him down, turns out his pockets, makes him take off his shoes. The French guy looks understandably freaked out. My hands are shaking and I'm terrified. "It's okay. It's normal" Dutch girl tells me. This doesn't help and I'm still freaking out.

Another Colombian guy shows up, a friend of the first guy, and starts asking what's going on. He joins the discussion with the police. Then a few more friends, and one of them miraculously is Francisco. "Pensé que te fuiste a casa?" he asks me. "I was supposed to." I say back in English. I have no more Spanish in my brain. "Are you okay?" he asks. I shake my head and say "Tengo mucho miedo." He looks concerned, and goes to take my hands. "Está temblando" he says, noticing my shaking hands. He gives me a hug and offers to find me a cab. I say yes, and leave the situation as quickly as I can. He tells his friends I'm really afraid, and walks with his arms around me away from the cops and the whole mess.

I am shaking so hard, and I cannot stop. My heart is still beating so quickly I can barely breathe and I'm so high my brain can't focus on anything, least of all trying to communicate in Spanish. We sit down and he looks at my hands, still furiously shaking. "Tranquila" he tells me over and over. But I can't calm down. I have so much adrenaline in my system I could sprint a mile. He buys me water and sits with me until I stop shaking. He kisses me, but I'm not sure I want to be kissing anyone. I'm still to scared to be interested romantically in anything. We walk to find a cab, and he negotiates for me. We kiss goodbye, and I start to worry about how I can most silently open all the locks on my front door and slip into bed.

The next morning I woke up late and started worrying all over again. My host sister had been right. That was a bad party, and I shouldn't have been doing any drugs. In the states it would have been fine, but this isn't the states and I need to be more careful. I don't know anything about this city, and things could have gone so much worse than they did. What if the French guy had had drugs on him? What if it's an offense in Colombia just to smell like weed? Cause we all sure did. I don't know enough Spanish to get me out of tricky situations, and I don't know the culture well enough to navigate it sober, let alone higher than I've been in months. I spent the day worrying and chastising myself, then avoiding eye contact with host sister. Who knows if she'll ever forgive me.

Francisco texted me yesterday. We have a date for tonight. Not sure I want to start anything with a guy my host sister clearly hates so much, but to me he seems fine. So I'm going, but I'm very nervous about my Spanish skills. Wish me luck. 

Sept. 4, 2015

Took the day off work today. So far, I've spent it talking to my ex back in the states about what made us break up. Not sure why I'm torturing myself with this pointless conversation. I broke up with him, it was my choice, but still I go back to him asking him if he really meant all the hurtful things he said right after I ended it. It's cruel to him to ask, but I'm so curious. Hating myself for this massive waste of time and distracting myself from the real, good things I should be doing with my new life in Colombia.

The water in my bathroom stopped working the other day. Had to use my host mom's toilet, sink and shower and was too afraid to purge in there for fear that she might hear. I think I gained weight, but it's so hard to tell. Water is back now. Made cookies with a friend yesterday and ate pieces of them. Purged after she left, but I think too much time had passed and they were in me for too long. Purged breakfast today, too.

Starting a new exercise regimen today. Going to do a half hour of calisthenics each day, that's my new goal. Then I'll immediately sit down to do a half hour of spanish grammar practice. Better myself for an hour a day and stop mindlessly trolling through social media with all my free time.

Talking to my crush all the time. Our communication is so difficult but I'm so excited by this new darling little romance I have. Hope I can see him today or tomorrow!