Part one : Becoming João Caferra.
Some brief notions, and a confession : Firstly, I had the basic idea for this post gestating inside me for quite a while now; however, it had a wholly different intent and a slightly different title. You see, (whoever 'you' may be...) up until a few days ago I still harboured hopes of one day re-uniting with my one time paramour, but alas, it is not meant to be. And this post... months ago, when I started thinking about it - the idea was that I'd lay out a plan, a course of action that would put me on the path to her arms once more, and that would have been called, 'The Road to You.'
But that particular road is one that leads me to nowhere; indeed, how can any road lead me anywhere, unless I find first the road to me?
Now, the confession : as the title above indicates, I find myself in a postition not unlike one João Caferra once did, years ago. But wait, who? Who is this person you mention? Well, truth be told I know next to nothing about him, what with having met him all of what?, two-three times?, except that I know that he was my former paramour's old flame.
Now, don't get me wrong - I have nothing against the guy, by all accounts he seemed to be a nice enough guy, and when we did talk, it was always sufficiently pleasant. Nor do I claim that I have become him in regards to life choices (whichever he may have made), or the like.
No. The way I am becoming him has something to do with a look he had in his eyes that first time I met him. It was... I dunno, in 2007, I guess, and the beloved's birthday would include a dinner for some close friends. There is a bit that I don't completely recall surrounding the date, but I know that me and her were somehow a bit... estranged? distant? I don't know, at least I guess I was. Maybe that had something to do with her moving to the Netherlands, but I felt absolutely miserable that day. Somehow it feels as if a part of me wasn't even there. But anyways, there were we; she introduced us, and he sat across the table from me, as I sat by her side, and likely, sometimes there would be a caress between me and her, maybe even a few kisses. And sometimes, sometimes he'd look at me with that look in his eyes, a look that I could not then decipher. It contained equals parts of suspicion, disbelief and... sadness? regret? I don't know.
All I know is that sometimes, when he looked at me, I almost found in his eyes a yearning to be the one who sat beside her, a deep sadness for the distance between them.
As he eyed me thus, I often found myself wondering, then, if he had an issue with me, or something. I never confronted him, nor I had any reason to, but that look in his eyes lingered up until now.
Years have passed, life happened, and my paramour and I went our separate ways. Often I would find myself in the darkest of places, thinking only about what once was, and dreading the terrible certainty of something that would eventually, unavoidably come to pass : the day that I would find that she'd found her happiness in the arms of another, and that the event where I would have to be present to witness that happiness would one day come to pass. Knowing this, instantly I understood just how the guy had felt, all those years ago, and I found myself relating so much to him, these years removed, I almost felt speechless.
And right now, at this very moment, not much of the above has happened... yet. Yes, I know that she is happy now, maybe even happier than ever when we were together, but I have yet to face that terrible crucible the other poor sod years ago. And, hard as it may be for me, when the moment comes, I'll have to be able to deal with it in a grown-up manner. In fact, I must use whatever comes of it in a positive and straightforward way - for it I can achieve that, I will know that inside me things have changed, and that will be yet another step to and for me.
I know that the road to me is a lengthy and hard path to be trodden; I know that even though for most of it, I have to tread all by my lonesome, here and there I'll have another soul beside me. But I know it cannot be done all at a time; it has to be slow and steady, not to win the race, but to win myself back, to find that tranquil spot wherem though some pain may still linger, it has subsided to the point of me not feeling it. It will not happen overnight, nor do I expect it to be an easy journey. All I know, right now, is that it will have to be step by step, the road to me will be taken one step at a time. And this, this is the first step.