Stolen underwear

People always want to be right. Even me, who is always so humble and quiet.
In this case, we want to prove to people that we know our friends better than anyone else, even when you have a rather large doubt about something, you keep on pretending. And when you're done arguing your point, you worry that the other person will go ahead and tell your friend whom you are arguing about all that you said and that all that you said was wrong. It's the worst fear. Well, the worst one I have in this current moment.

That friend that I was arguing had just stolen my underwear from my window. No, it wasn't out in the open for everyone to take. It was safe behind a glass window (that couldn't close all the way because of a wasps nest. I keep telling those darn indian workers to take it off, but nooo, they take their time, I mean, they have lifetimes to do it), prison-like bars, and a screen window (that was locked only from the bottom, so you could still push on the top of the window and reach enough fingers through to steal underwear). So, my just washed wet white underwear was stolen by a darned mexican boy who is my amor platonica (I think that's how it's spelled); the one love I'll never have. He has a girlfriend, I think, back in Mexico, and is probably totally over me.

If he's over me, wouldn't that mean that he liked you once, which means that you were together, which would totally contridict your amor platonica thingy, you say? Ha! Not quite. We were never 'officially' together. My first year here we liked each other, but I blew him off. But that's only becuase I was young! I was unexerienced! I freaked out! I've never had a boyfriend! We weren't even together and he already got super jelous of me mildly flirting with other guys! OK, maybe he did have a slight reason to be jelous. But come on, you don't just stop talking to the girl you like just because of that! Well, there was a bit more to that. He freaked out about me flirting, and I freeaked out about him giving me freedom. So we stopped talking for a loooooong time.

And then I experienced my first bout of depression. It was BAD. I actually had constant thoughts of killing myself. At the ripe age of 13!! I told myself, nobody would truly be affected, except for my mother. I barely knew the rest of my family, I never talk to my dad, my friends here I only knew for one year, and I didn't have any friends back at home. So really, who would care? The only thing really keeping me here on this earth was knowing how much my mom would be devestated if I killed myself. So instead I just got myself really sick by eating a whole thing of sweetened condensed milk, and an hour later eating really spolied pickles (I swear, I didn't know they were out of date). Threw up for the first time in 5 years, and got super sick for about a week afterwards, satisfying my itch to commit suicide. Of course, I kepy on being depressed, until I met my first boyfriend (whom at that time, I didn't know I was going to go out with.) But that's a different story.

Anyways, with this mexican dude (I'm sorry, his name is not going to be disclosed in this blog), I really liked him.... obviously. And we didn't talk until the end of my first year at MPA. He didn't come back for 2 years, during which I horribly missed him. And we kinda sorta kept in touch over MSN over the summer. Just last summer, he was telling me how much he missed India, and how much life for him sucked in Mexico. So I told him to come. He had financial problems, so I hooked him up with a few people that could hepl him come, and Viola! He's here! It took him about 2 months after coming here to say thank you to me for getting him here, but still. At least he realized it.

If only he realized how much I like him and yearn to be with him. But no, that would be bad for me. I have other things to focus on. For example, writing. And drawing. Oh, I have to post some of my drawings!

Anyways, stolen underwear leads to serious yearning, jelousy, and anger at yourself and him.