All the things i wanted to tell you but i didn't - Fernanda Alvarez

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All the things i wanted to tell you but i didn’t Fernanda Alvarez

Š 2015 Fernanda Alvarez @nopuedoverte Cover picture by Alvelyn Alko.

There is no hatred in my love for you. Only a sadness I feel all the more strongly for my inability to explain or describe it. ― David Foster Wallace, The Broom Of The System La ausencia se siente físicamente pero es todo lo demás lo que no me deja dormir. ― Pablo Robles Gastélum

I’ve learnt more from Hiroshima Mon Amour than I’ve learnt from teachers at school It will get worse I understand why you don’t want to be here why you want to leave so badly i want us to walk down every aisle of all the abandoned buildings of that small town and kiss in the rooms without a door after stealing lollipops from a candy store. It’s raining and it’s Wednesday it’s raining, and it’s May it will get worse it will begin again every night every year when you are there while I am here.

Pay attention to exhibit A while it’s still there, because someday it will be gone, and I’ll be gone too I think of you as a modern artwork as a red neon light sign I stand in front of you except I can’t so I just type how did your day was? okay i mean i’ve been busy, stressed so so, i guess u. I am okay. And then nothing for hours and days until i get drunk or too emotional and ask where are you and you just reply sup. Yes, i know i know that you know that i am the worst.

Seeing other people is something I never wanted us to do (especially you, but there’s nothing I can do) You know I contradict myself most of the time do i really need to write this down? or it’s another excuse? Excuses, always excuses; for example this is an excuse to tell you that i kind of hate you. But i miss you. It is also an excuse to tell you i don’t want to see you, although i’d like to. In the end it won’t matter, you won’t read this, you won’t think about the one who wrote this you are seeing other people, other people who aren’t me. Because as I said before, the truth is that i’m not sure if i love or hate you or if I just wanted to write something sad again as the morning light approaches.

I guess you just grew tired of listening lies and now someone else has to pay for the crashed car, yes, I’ll pay for everything, you don’t even need to worry How someone who is able to fill the world with colored lights when he talks and smiles could be alone? I don’t wanna stay here forever...

Something I still want to do even when someone told me not to fuck things up and stop thinking as a dumb teenager since I have everything I could ever ask for but that isn’t true (how come I couldn’t want you?) How i wish our bodies were touching your hand inside my shirt and my back against your chest me breathing near your neck while you talk about how much you want to sleep a little more. I’d get up and make breakfast for two I’d doubt my choice since you hate this kind of food then you would wake up we would eat and after that you would play guitar I’d watch you from the other side of the room. But how i wish our bodies were touching my hand inside your shirt and your lips against mine.

All the things i wanted to tell you but i didn’t I have told you a lot of things i don’t remember some of them but i have always told you the truth sometimes sober, sometimes drunk and there are so many things that i want to tell you or maybe i don’t want to, because they are as scary as falling in love. Thought about recording a video or picking up the phone and calling you but i’ll make a list instead it’s easier that way you don’t even have to read it, here is it all the things i wanted to tell you but i didn’t: I once read in a book about photography, something about direction points that define the composition of a photo. Throughout all this time i photographed a number of thoughts in form of collage, a giant print that only i can understand, because it is in my own language. I don’t think i’ll say everything i want to say in this language because i’m still afraid what if something goes wrong? I’m sure that will happen but if not maybe at the end of the day you’ll hear those words coming out from my mouth. And those words are composition of a different photograph. Jens Lekman wrote in his song So this guy at my office “my day starts when you get here

ends when you leave” the same happens to me. I love your skin, your voice tone, i love the way you laugh that i can see your perfect teeth aligned and i love your cheeks, i want to pinch them i love your lovely doe eyes the sweetness in them (always on the verge of something that looks like melancholia, or something i must be familiar with) I think of us together holding hands, listening to My Bloody Valentine. i think of you putting my hair behind my ear to see my face i think of me kissing your forehead. I want us to be kids. i want us to be gods but that’s impossible that’s clear to me. I want to wear your clothes, and eventually dress up in you. I usually dream about falling asleep beside you sometimes i feel like your arms are around me when i’m drifting off to sleep it isn’t that hard i just need to close my eyes but lately i’d rather not to because the most beautiful nightmares become terrible daydreams and i end up seeing you everywhere at school, at the bus stop, being a shadow walking next to me. I want to hug you all day i’m so mad at you and i wish we were closer i wish i could kiss you every ten minutes i need you to hug me and let me cry.

I wanted to give this poem a good name but I couldn’t came up with a nice one, so I’ll name it “…” You told me once about a dream you had where you were talking to some guy you didn’t knew he had some of my pictures on his computer so you started talking about me. Then you were at a boarding school we were still in high school you saw me standing at the basketball court then we kissed each other and you said then we had to get things from the school were we lived so we could go on a bus ride. Then you woke up you told me it didn’t made any sense yes it didn’t either you stopped dreaming about me or telling me about it that’s it it makes me sad I don’t know if you like me anymore If I really was like your ~* dream girl *~ because yes, you are my dream boy except that you aren’t a dream you are real you exist you get to breathe and it’s strange you didn’t knew i still like you i still dream about you i still care about you and i still love you.

Summer-loving-torture-party There are brief periods of time where i don’t think about you, at all. I can’t wait for the moment when you finally decide that yes i am yours (but that i have to understand that doesn’t mean you must be mine)

I left a note on the table (about today) How have you been? That’s all i’d like to know. Also i would like to know if you miss me but it’s too soon to start talking about things that might sound cheesy like my feelings. A few months ago i could ask you how you were doing without any problem, and you’d say okay. As always. And me, as always, i’d doubt your answer. i don’t think it’s possible for someone to always be alright. I thought of you as a box full of things and feelings (i can’t really tell if you felt repressed) and I bet that if i was able to ask you right now how have you been? you’d say the same. The difference is that now your “okay” would be even without me and then i wouldn’t doubt of your answer anymore. Of course I’d feel bad but that’s not my point. You never really know the value of little words like those ones, like “okay”. And although you aren’t here with me

to tell me and then fuck me, you already fuck me up not being here, because you make me miss you don’t you think that is a big deal? I must confess (let’s pretend you didn’t realized until now) that i wanted to see into your box full of things and feelings, but instead of letting me see you thrown me away and everything that once had to do with me, too. You know what they say curiosity killed the cat and yes, i’m not a cat but my curiosity of you killed me. Or worse. Left me alive, but i feel like dying.

The forgetting of wisdom This time i’m not writing to you to say how important you are to me because you already know neither because i want you to not to leave me i can’t ask you that. I just want you to realize that i’m don’t want to live life without you around. I won’t kill for you because that would be weird and nobody deserves to be killed for anyone or anything.

I was wondering if we could get into the back of your car and listen to the first mixtape i made for you Or we could go back to your room and listen to The Lucksmiths, The Softies, and Belle and Sebastian while making out. Are you still camera-shy? don’t worry i’ll keep this moment for me you’ll be safe we’ll be safe, both of us although I’m no good with secrets we’ll be safe being on a piece of paper stuck on a song in a language you barely know don’t forget me i’ll remember this like it’s a scene from my favorite movie because it is my favorite movie your face is my favorite face and my favorite songs are yours to keep forever.

I been trying to write you this poem since the day we met When i think about you what i remember most is your eyes and your voice your lips oh my god those lips of yours sorry if i constantly say how much i want to kiss you but i don’t really see myself kissing anyone else if somebody asked me what i would like to do until the world stops spinning my answer would be that I want to hug and kiss you and read long novels to you in bed. The girl sitting next to me on the bus is texting with someone via skype i think about the night when we went to sleep very late because we were too busy watching each other through a screen, that night i pressed my fingers against my webcam pretending i was pinching your nose and you were pretending to pinch my cheeks. I want to touch you to run my fingers trough your face wipe the tears from your cheeks with my right thumb (you cry a lot and i cry a lot, too) in a defeating silence your hand in mine i’m sure no one has touched you in a very long, long time. I was both, a woman and a child. In fact, i am still, so how did you expected me to react? what did you thought it would happen? The only thing i know is that if you were here or i was there (or we were anywhere in between) we’d be home right now.

You say my name once again and i don’t think this is going to end anytime soon i am living our own and private honeymoon. In between all the words there are things that we aren’t saying for me, there’s only you, and i keep crossing my fingers praying to a god i’m not even sure that exists.

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