00:00 Enrico Intra - Nicole
04:10 Opa - Pieces: Tombo / La Escuela / Tombo / The Last Goodbye
09:23 Graham De Wilde - Cirrus
15:42 Fabio Fabor - Enchanting
18:05 Nora Orlandi - Pan de Azucar
I thought he was the one, I really did. To my silly love-struck self, he was perfect; kind, smart, driven, and a bit shy but that's part of what attracted me to him in the first place. We met through the engineering department at my university. I was in Biomed while he was in EE, so we didn't really have too many classes in common outside of our core major classes, but we ended up together for some of the afternoon classes in my freshman year. The first few times I saw him on the other side of the lecture hall, I'll be honest, I thought nothing of him. Love at first sight means nothing unless you're vapid and delusional; I mean sure, you can fall for someone's appearance but obviously that doesn't mean you love who they are or what they believe in. To love means to not only admire but also to know and understand someone.
Our relationship began the way you'd expect: we got assigned to a group project together, we exchanged contact information, we started talking, we talked some more, we became friends, we got intimate, and all that jazz. I remember the first time he tried kissing me he was trembling and his face was bright red. He kind of looked like a puppy begging for affection so I gave him a hug to calm him down, to which he smiled sheepishly and left me hanging on the kiss. I thought he had no balls, but the next morning he came up to me and frenched me out of the blue like he did it for a living. We were both introverts so for our dates we typically just went over to each other's places and watched a movie or played some games together. I miss that kind of company and sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get that feeling back, the contentment I felt with being in love with someone who was also my best friend. The sex was pretty good, but I don’t think it was as important as how much we instinctively understood what the other wanted. Looking back, it makes me feel kinda sick that I never saw that mask of his slip until it was too late, that I couldn’t see him for what he really was despite all of the time we spent together. The first six months were bliss. I felt like I could endure anything if he was there by my side. I started talking to my family more, who I had been ignoring due to piling concerns over school. I asked if I could meet his family too, but he quickly changed the topic, which at the time did not concern me much seeing as he lived alone and was already independent.
It was February when he asked me to move in with him. I accepted his request but I felt bad that I couldn’t contribute to our rent since he was the only one working. We'd commute every morning to the university campus together, which was about 20 minutes walking distance from his apartment. I had a car but decided to leave it at my parents' place since we only went out for groceries which was also pretty close to his place. Our day-to-day lives quickly became monotonous, which wasn't a bad thing by any means; there’s comfort to be found in the security of constancy, and for some people, a routine is what keeps their lives from falling apart. A part of me regrets not putting a little more effort into doing more "meaningful" things, but at the same time, a boring life lets me focus on my studies. I wanted to graduate as quickly as possible and get a job to shoulder the burden of living expenses. A bit about me. I’ve been told before that the way I articulate my thoughts is banal and sometimes obnoxious. I suppose it’s a compliment that what I write or say can elicit any emotion at all? This might come off as privileged or naive, but for my entire life up until then, I hadn’t had a serious desire for anything related to my future. Living with someone else forced me to think about that stuff, because now it's not just about me, now my future is potentially intertwined with someone else's. There was a feeling of responsibility in our relationship, an unsaid agreement that our individual success and happiness were more important than trying to make the other person happy. In other words, we need to put ourselves first. This didn't sit right with me though, and so I made sure to keep up with my academics to not get left behind. He was passionate about his work, and though his current job was just one to pay the bills, I knew he would have no trouble landing a steady job after graduating. Oops, I'm going to be late. Might finish info dumping later.
It's surprising how little you care about someone as your relationship with them comes to an end. It doesn't happen instantly, of course. The text messages just got shorter and shorter. Ending our contact completely was the least I could do for him. Sometimes I wonder if he resents me or the time we spent together. Sometimes I want to talk to him. But this fleeting thought never lasts.