The girl with a writing fetish

Hello there.

 Actually, I confess that I have not the slightest clue as to who would read this, but hey...

Let's begin with saying: I am not Amelia. I am the girl that lives through her and perhaps voices all of her deepest desires and instincts. No, I am the girl that you don't get to know. Amelia is the closest and purest idea anyone can ever create about me.

However, there was someone, a long time ago, that knew this Amelia. He had her in the palm of his hands and he liked that.

     Ironic....

             A new age, a new face and yet,sometimes  no matter how much history leaves a scar, we still go on scratching.  What stings the most is realizing,  after all these years, is that I still think of you.

Amelia and Law: "Hamburg Song"

Amelia had her laptop open and her fingers ready to type. She was sitting at her nearest coffee shop close to  the University and was desperate to begin writing her paper on latinamerican literature due next tuesday. The subject was "100 years of Solitude"by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, a columbian journalist and novelist. She decided to fuse her inspiration with some strong black coffee and the melodies of Eva Cassidy. She always prefered listening to Eva when writing.

 Not far in another red semi stained couch sat a fellow classmate with his own laptop, typing away as if his life depended on it. Danny  was his name, tall, geeky tall actually, with expresso colored hair and porcelain skin and yes, Amelia had noticed him since day one.He always smelled deliciously of citrus and writing ink and always wore pop culture inspired t shirts. He was simply, too cool.  She sipped her coffee and quickly tried to imagine some sort of lame way to begin conversation with him . 

"How is the paper coming along?"
"Hmm, damm it why are you so adorable?"
Hi, I am in your literature class and I wanted to simply worship your hair. Yes, you have great hair"
"Marry me? No, that was lame"
"Shit, I am a dork"
"Amelia, you study words, say something"

Amelia was fidgeting with her fingers and typing crap in her word document as if fighting. Danny, stared, green eyes alert, but  kept on with his work as if not impressed. She was about to raise the common finger when Law entered the coffee shop. He caught her just as her face was flushed with anger, lashing dirty looks to the other side of the room. He followed her direction, and already sensing the situation, tried to make light of it, ignoring his own thoughts.

"Amelia, should I ask why you are staring at that kid like you are picturing his death?"
"It's funny you mention it  Law, I was doing just that"
"Already planning a world destruction, my dear friend? I thought that was exclusive for fridays" 
"Well, I am feeling rather generous today"

Law reached for a kiss on her cheek and sat next to her, a little closer than most days. Amelia did not seem to mind at all, She seemed to be lost in her world of coffee and literature and something else. For months, Law was picturing ways of letting her know how he felt. He needed to let her know how much she inspired him, how he pictured kissing her and waking up next to her everyday, and yes the image of her walking naked around his apartment was a constant. He placed his arm around her and leaned her closer to him. She smelled of flowers and in return rested her head on his chest, something completly normal for her. The coffee shop was playing his favorite song "Hamburg Song"by Keane. He let the words and melodies fill him with courage and confidence. He kissed her hair and took a sip of his coffee.   The moment was entirely sweet and perfect.

"Law, I need to have sex, are you available?"

He almost coughed back his coffee. He stared at her half surprised and half hoping it was not a bluff. As he prepared to reply, Amelia quickly laughed and tickled him under his chest. 

"I'm kidding, sorry. But it's true that I have been in a dry spell lately, and I'm pretty sure Danny wont ever notice me. So,  i was just checking my options. Either way, I'm sure Lydia has you busy with all that foreign affairs sex, you do look a bit skinnier though. Are you being safe? Ok, don't answer that. 

In the middle of her coffee laced monologue, Law leaned closer and gently kissed her. It was his only chance and he went for it. Finally, in all her life, Amelia was silenced with a kiss. The rest of the customers also stared, some "Awws and Oohs"were heard and Danny  looked as if something amusing finally happened. To Law, none of that mattered, he finally did something about it. All he could think of was Amelia's face; as if all life was drained out of her. Then, she touched her lips and smiled.

"Thank you"

"Yeah, anytime" Why was she thanking him? She really was insane and eratic. He hesitated for a second.
"You are aware that I just kissed you, right?"

Amelia smiled brilliantly. Her cheeks were flushed. "Yes, I was there on the recieving end. It was lovely. I'm sorry, I know I have been a bit annoying lately. I read victorian novels as a potential career and yet my love life is shit. So I was thanking you because you reminded me about what these heroines in my books are searching for. 

Law seemed at a loss for words, which was completly normal of his nature. But this was his moment, so he touched her hand, encouraging her to continue.

"Consuming love. Completly ridiculous, passionate love. So, thank's. The kiss helped me remember to keep hoping. Don't worry, I wont tell Lydia. Chalk it up to too much caffeine and Keane music. Was that "Hamburg Song"? Anyways, gotta hit the books.

Amelia thanked the heavens and Freud, that Law could not read her mind for it was a mixture of Gin and expressionist paintings. She saw life in colors, and right now it was red, orange and purple. She felt something, but maybe not enough. His kiss was still in the memory of her lips, that secretly wanted more, but she kissed him on his forehead and made plans for the next day; a poetry reading at Charlottes. The scent of her perfume embraced him. Across the room, Danny stared at him and lifted his notebook, where he wrote:

"FRIEND ZONED MUCH?" and laughed for a second, as if the world went back to it's original dullness. At that moment, Law's phone chimed in a text message from Lydia. "See you soon?". Law replied and all the while, Keane still playing in the coffee shop, "Will you see me in the end? Or Is it just a waste of time, trying to be your friend?"

Law had been in love with Amelia for about a year already, he watched her go through ups and downs, a few breakups and her parents divorce. He hoped that someday she would see him, but somehow he began to understand that hope was probably only for fools. 


Arwenlyn
2015

Amelia's Lawful friend: "Somewhere only we know"

Back in 2008 began the never ending obsession of humans to leave behind a trail, a photo, a self explanatory picture of who they were. It was also the year that Myspace slowly remained in the unknown and Facebook was a complete mess, where it took you minutes to find a person's "wall". Amelia was well versed in technology, particularly social media. It never replaced a book, then again there was one wall she was willing to search amidst the plenty of website apps. His name was Law, and he was boring as hell.

August  2008 proved to be an interesting month for Amelia. She was taking up a few literature courses, so her time was spent in the library researching authors like the Bronte Sisters, Jane Austen and Victor Hugo. No one really entered the library given that the internet was a much faster choice, but Amelia, like her favorite authors, was a semi victorian at heart. However, that day she cheated her own prudish morals and used her laptop instead. The internet indeed, what a tool...

She entered Facebook and searched for Law's page. It took her a minute or more to find his wall, which only irritated her. She hated the thought of being interested in what her friend was doing and with whom. Law was a few years older than her and was doing his Juris Doctors in a fancy university close to hers and sometimes they would lunch together and talk music.  She was in a daze looking at his photos and stubbornly admitting to herself that Law was attractive-

"Amelia...what are you doing?" Law had been standing behind her watching her carefully. He was wearing his usual uniform; navy sweater with a crisp white dress shirt under it, dark jeans and his black converse.

 Amelia frowned. "Researching for Professor Mendoza's class. You know how she likes me to be very thorough."

Law, bringing his hand to his chin, chuckled and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "I see, and is it a common practice now to research Charlotte Bronte in social media, particularly mine?"

Amelia turned all shades of purple. "Just what the hell are you doing here already? We said drinks at Joe's after 5pm." That was Amelia, count on her to act nonchalant and ready to change the subject in matter of seconds.

"I know, but I got out early from the seminar. Wanted to see if we could meet up earlier. I got a date tonight." Law searched Amelia's face hoping to find some objection, some hint  that she actually minded.

"Well, date's can be nice Law. Who is she? Oh, it's that girl from your foreign affairs class. Yeah, that sounds terrible. Must be a snooze fest for you." Amelia quite remembered the blonde that kept writing in Law's Facebook wall. She was gorgeous and ridiculously smart sometimes sort of cryptic.

 "Her name is Lydia. I don't know, it seemed like a good idea around 11:00 am." Law shrugged and picked up Amelia's books and laptop. "Let's go. I need some soul searching and I need my best friend there too. You can tell me all about your classes."

Law was already halfway down the library stairs. Amelia followed him while  rolling her eyes out at him. He was always so proper and irritatingly perfect. Sometimes she wondered why he bothered hanging around a sophomore college girl when he probably had post graduate issues of his own.

They reached outside and were walking side by side to Law's silver SUV. Law was slightly more quiet than usual. Like if some debate was happening in his mind.

 "Where are we going Law?"

"Somewhere only we know".

"Ok, that does not sound creepy at all. But I'm guessing it's that bench near the docks in Old San Juan."
Amelia laughed out loud and reached over to mess his near perfect black hair. He really was a good friend to her, almost like family. Good friends were so hard to find that she dared not sacrifice it for a casual idea of finding him attractive. She hated the fact that Law had a date with Lydia. Jeez, even their names together seemed like the ultimate suburban  yuppie-villed couple.

Law smiled at her warmly and took her hand for a minute. She was so special to him. Her with the pink hair, colored skinny jeans and leather bag filled with books. Her that never seemed to fit to anyones expectations, because she lived to fulfill her own wishes. Amelia was a friend. He repeated over and over.

They stopped at a red light. Amelia was texting someone in her pink phone and laughing. He touched her hand again, she looked at him inquisitively. Maybe this was his chance to tell her, maybe this was it.

"umm, Amelia, maybe we should put some music on." Law frowned as the light turned green.

"Yes, please. I heard the new Keane album is amazing. Remember to write down in your lawyer type agenda that we need some time for music."

Amelia turned on the radio and Dido's melodic came through.

"There will be no white flag above my door. I'm in love and always will be. I will go down with this ship."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Could Dido be any more tragic?"

Law cleared his throat. "I don't know Amelia. She might be on to something. To love someone so strong that even after it ends, you still feel for them. I am sure the heroines in your victorian novels would understand."

"Remind me to ask Elizabeth Bennet the next time I dive into an Austen marathon." Amelia blushed but kept on texting as if the conversation never happened.

They drove off to Old San Juan each in their own thoughts, but occasionally smiling. Each yearning  for the same dream, but only one brave enough to hope. And he would go on hoping until Amelia could finally see.

Amelia: "Esta servilleta es tuya"

Hola Clara,

Te escribo esta carta en una servilleta estampada con el logo de  mi bistro favorito. El de la esquina de la calle Magdalena, ¿recuerdas? No ha cambiado mucho desde la última vez que frecuentamos aquí. Bueno, te cuento que aún está el mismo florero turquesa con margaritas blancas y amarillas. Clara, decidí regresar porque me hacía falta el aroma del té chai y las conversaciones que tuvimos en nuestros años universitarios. Quise regrasar porque en este bistro lo recuerdo a él. A Xander. Qué cosa como todo eventualmente me revela como aún no lo olvido. Qué ridículo esto Clara. 

Disculpa esta mancha de té. Ahora mismo un chico con cabello rojizo oscuro pasó por mi lado y tuve que mirar. Lo extraño demasiado Clara. Te extraño a tí igual. ¿Qué nos sucedió? Eras mi amiga, mi hermana a quien podía llamar aun a las horas de la madrugada. Te alejaste porque tomé decisiones distintas a las tuyas. Perdóname. Sí, perdóname porque por primera vez no quise ser una sombra tuya. Por primera vez quise ser conocida por mi nombre y no la fama de ser tu amiga. Creo que ambas fuimos ramas de un mismo tronco, pero después de todo, nos separamos. Yo necesito mi propio sol, quizás eso me hace egoísta pero totalmente humana.


Querida Clara, espero que encuentres la felicidad. Yo la tuve y aquí en este bistro recordandote a ti y a él la sigo teniendo. La felicidad no depende de las personas a mi alrededor, depende de mí.

Así que esta taza de té chai es en honor a tí. Y este beso color rojo en la servilleta es mi manera de decirle a Xander, "Te sigo amando, idiota".

Xander and Amelia: "September Days"

It was a rainy afternoon. September weather was always so. The trees danced away to some unknown wind and the sky was painted in shades of orange and pink. Amelia was walking slowly and  witnessed it all like some work of art. She smiled so as to clock in another day in finance. These were the moments, she thought, were she would drift away and remember who she really was; an artist.

The train station was filled with co workers who waited for the rain to go away. Most of them never brought umbrellas to work, just for the excuse to get some drinks before heading home. Amelia chuckled  because she understood. She stopped in her tracks near the glass door from the bar, because amidst all those people, there was one who stood out for her. His reddish hair shone more in the yellow light and his laughter was audible even outside. Xander was surrounded by a crowd, something that Amelia learned to shy away from. He noticed her at once and she smiled as if they alone were guardians of some secret. She waved at him and walked past the park towards her car and it did not surprise her to see his car next to hers.

Suddenly she heard someone jogging and turned around to see Xander making his way to her while getting all drizzled in rain drops. Something about that scene made Amelia laugh and as a result she waited for him under her red umbrella.

There they stood facing each other. People have been obsessed with scenes involving rain for centuries, something about the rain or perhaps the couple. Something about seeing a face you love as it searches yours in a totally magical rainy way. Yes, that was cheesy.

 Xander was too big for her small umbrella, which made fair excuse to be closer to Amelia and perceive her perfume; sweet and spicy. He smiled mischievously as he wondered if Amelia was at all like her choice of fragrance. He had been wrong about her before, he was sure that every time he figuratively placed her in a box, she went ahead and crushed the image with spectacular grace.

Amelia remembered how earlier in the day she tried to avoid him. Pretty naive on her part considering how closely they worked together. But here he was, inches away from her. Amelia didn't plan what was coming next, Xander had an idea, one he was desperate for.

No words were spoken. Only touch.
Sometimes words are overrated.
Touch is genuine, touch is universal.

Hands explored the edges and corners of her shoulders. Timid at first, as if unveiling a work of art.  Her face was near his neck inhaling  his perfume until it made her tipsy with desire. She felt warm and radiant under the rain and wind. These september days are always rainy and expectant.

Her red umbrella flew way and with it all her doubts and past inhibitions. They both knew what was coming next and the idea was too consuming. Such a simple thing, lips entwine and sparks fly. Amelia teased around his neck with her lips. Xander cupped her chin and made her lock eyes.

"Amelia, look at me"

She knew the moment she raised her eyes at him, the past would be forgotten. She knew that passion was truly what she needed. Law was right, someday someone would make her burn with an  unknown fire. Law was right...it was Xander.

She looked into the eyes of the man she hardly knew but was desperate to be close to. She finally let someone in. Xander smiled and slowly leaned down and kissed her. Their lips explored lightly as if testing the waters. The temperature was right, the water levels were getting deeper and hot.

It was a rainy afternoon, but nothing could possibly put their fire out. Trust me, you wouldn't want to try. It was passionate, anyone could have told you that. Anyone including Roberto from accounting who just happened to be walking by.

"Evening Xander, Amelia. Tough day at work, huh?"

No one answered back. No one stared at poor Roberto from boring accounting. No one else existed for these two. But surely Monday morning would prove to be an interesting tale.

Amelia's Lawyer and Keane

Many years ago, before Amelia knew that a Xander existed for her, she was a college student. Her passion was writing and mostly everyday she would detail in her journals events and moments past. Her hair was pink and her clothes were eighties meets bohemian. Her nails were painted in neon colors and some of them were starting to chip off.  She drank coffee and never smoked at the same time. She was happily blissful in her own colorful world.

Her major was journalism and her minor literature. It truly was a dream for her to invest time studying and preparing herself professionally in the written word. She took classes from investigative journalism to the rather progressive history of love lectures. The last one is still a big question mark in her mind. Who takes a class on the history of love letters? Well, people like her. People that marched to their own tune and painted with diverse color palettes. 

Amelia's mobile phone at the time was a metallic pink motorola razor and she thought she was cool. She never had an ipod so her music she listened through a cd player with headphones. Pretty progressive, of course. Her favorite band at the time was Keane and she had someone to blame for that. She blamed a certain lawyer with a stick up his ass.

Now now, Amelia  was always what you could describe as a "semi good girl". At least her face projected a certain naive quality, however, her mind? Her real thoughts? Not so cookie cutter. There would come a time in the future when that battle for her mind will drive her to break rules and start again. But this was not the time. Not yet. 

Back to the lawyer. This person was what  you called typically predictable. His friends never changed and his manners where always perfection. His voice was soft spoken and nostalgic, at times sort of creepy. He was eight years older than Amelia and had his entire life planned, or as it seemed...planned for him. His eyes were the color of coffee, the kind they sell at Starbucks that has all sorts of crap and 1% real java. Dark straight hair that fell softly near his long eyelashes and he seriously needed a tan. Amelia, on the other hand hated the idea of living such a constricted life between office cubicles. She wanted to live each day as her last, so she really had no idea what attracted her to him. Him with lawyer words and lawyer manners. 

Yet, some nights together they would walk the streets of Old San Juan, taking in the history of every corner and meditating in silence. They never held hands and they hardly embraced. Theirs was a story of strange companionship. He wanted to be free spirited like her and to actually be brave enough to act spontaneous. She saw in him the stillness her passionate soul needed from time to time, that silence in between musical notes. 

The one thing they shared with great passion was music. They loved listening to "Keane"songs and would spend hours on the phone analyzing the meaning in their lyrics. When they talked about love, it was always with a  quote from Keane. 

One night during those walks in the historical city, Amelia and lawyer sat near the water. This time they were listening from his ipod the song "Love is the end". She turned to him with familiarity as she listened in. Perhaps, this could work. Perhaps, he wont bore me to death. Perhaps, love is really the end, she thought as her eyes gazed at him.

Lawyer also turned to her side and his eyes were brilliantly black. He smiled faintly in a way that you would almost miss it. He reached with his hand and stroked softly her right cheek and trailed down to her hand. The touch in itself felt so foreign to her. And with his fingers caressing her hand, he waited for her to respond. 

Amelia found herself unable to do anything at all. Here was cryptic lawyer with his fond for health foods touching her. She smiled in a matter that said "dude, what are you doing?". Lawyer then took the lyrics from her left hand and read out loud.

"It wont come again because love is the end. Oh no my friend. Best not pretend because love is the end". 

"What do you think about these words, Amelia?"
"Two friends finding love. It's pretty obvious Law". 

Lawyer chuckled low and removed his complete hand from hers. He realized then that she did not understand what he meant. And she understood that she was not ready yet. He stood up first and helped her get up from the ground. It was a november night so the city was decorated in holiday lights. The sea breeze ruffled her pink hair, hair that secretly drove him wild; well as wild as he could possibly muster. They were facing each other and the song was still in their ears. 

The music was ending, the last words were sung. "Don't say those words" echoed through. The last note was played and Lawyer cupped her chin in his hands forcing her to look at him. 

"There's a fire in you Amelia. Don't ever lose it, or You and I will be at war". For the first time there was passion in his eyes and fierceness in the sound of his voice. Her breathing became agitated as she was clearly unaware that fire existed in him. More so, she never knew that passion was exactly what she needed as well. 

His head lowered closer to her face and she was almost certain he would kiss her. He studied her face and his lips rested on her forehead. All the while he sang her name over and over. 

"Amelia, Amelia...love is the end. And someday someone will be lucky to be burned by your fire." 

"Law, you seriously watch too many melodramatic movies. I am not even invested in the nearest future of two weeks from now, what makes you so sure I want to know about a future person?"

Law messed around with her hair and said "You will see". They slightly embraced their way back to the car.
It was the last time Amelia saw him, and the stillness consumed her. But Law was right. It would take her seven years to actually feel that way. 

¿Are you counting? 


 

 

Xander y Amelia: "Ahí viene E.T"

 

En el año 2012 se predecía que el mundo iba a culminar. En la calle se expresaban diversas opiniones, hasta las redes sociales crearon un itinerario que incluía desayuno con los extraterrestres. Sí, ese año fue particular para muchos, pero en especial para mí. Fue el año donde vi sus ojos color ámbar y su cabello rojizo a la luz del medio día. Recuerdo como aquella visión y su risa contagiosa eran conceptos tan ajenos para mí como el desayuno continental de los supuestos E.T's.

Se preguntará (eso presumo) cómo alguien en tiempos "apocalípticos" despoja tiempo para enamorarse. Le soy sincera, no tengo idea. El amor con esta criatura fue tan imprevisto y desesperante como perder tus llaves dentro de tu cartera.

Lo veía por las mañanas en la estación del tren. Su apariencia siempre jovial y misteriosa parecian  guardar un maletín de secretos. Ya sabe usted, ese tipo de secreto que le estremecen la piel. Sus camisas siempre tenían filo, su barba rojiza perfectamente estilizada y sus brazos eran largos y musculosos, claro no que me fijaba tanto. Eso quiero pensar.  Al principio lo miraba sólo por curiosidad pendeja, de esa que busca algo más interesante en otras vidas. Me parecía que yo misma cultivaba el secreto de mi análisis sobre su persona. Realmente era un juego para distraer mi mente sobre mi propia vida.  Me llegó a interesar tanto que al fin lo aborrecí en mi corazón. Me causaba molestia pensar tanto en alguien que ni sabía que existía, en alguien que se rodeaba de personas que comían del cuento.

Si le cuento que en ese año era una chica de concursos de bellezas, le estaría mintiendo. Era una nerda de siete pares que prefería leer que salir con chicos ignorantes. Usted me disculpa si caigo en lo vulgar o coloquial, cuando me apasiono tiendo a perder la tabla. Bueno, mis cabellos oscuros cortos y mi vestimenta de oficina seria ocultaban ciertos atributos y le soy honesta, me encantaba estar escondida. No me sentía preparada para permitir a nadie en mi vida.

¿Qué dice? ¿Es puro cuento lo que digo? Bueno dígame algo usted coño. Usted con esa facha tan seria posiblemente núnca se enamoró así de entregado. Ah, claro puedo continuar con mi historia. Por supuesto que puede tener música de fondo. Me encanta La Oreja de Van Gogh.

Mire, realmente no hay tanto que decir. Me enamoré antes de conocerlo. Qué ridiculez esto del amor a dos o tres vistas. Escuchaba sus historias con los compañeros de trabajo y me encontraba riendo tanto.Cantaba en el kareoke todos los viernes con tal de verlo.  Fue hermoso poder reconocer mi voz nuevamente y en especial ver mis ojazos achicarse con cada carcajada. Pero lo más hermoso fue la tarde del siete de septiembre. Lo ví acercarse con una mirada tímida y segura, ¿Es posible semejante dualidad?

Llegó a mí y pude ver sus ojos claros y reconocer su fragancia  de madera y especias que  me estremeció de primeras. Me sonrió y hablamos de las cosas más tontas y profundas del mundo. Parecía como una canción que  quieres seguir escuchando mientras conduces a tu casa. ¿Recuerda que mencioné como pensaba que era un portador de secretos, bueno, su secreto era yo. Sus miradas que parecían distantes realmente eran su manera de decir "sé que estás ahí".

Así que en el año del fin del mundo, tres meses antes de la llegada de los extraterrestres, encontré el amor. Un amor para pasar el fin del mundo tiene buenos prospectos para el futuro. De manera que le exhorto que revise nuestros talonarios y acepte nuestra solicitud de préstamo hipotecario. Si sobrevivimos el fin del mundo, creo que un préstamo de treinta años es nada.

Bueno, dígame algo, ¿Alguna vez se ha enamorado por más tiempo que su hipoteca? No conteste ahora, solo piénselo, y ya sabe que trabajo en el piso cinco. Perdone las palabras, usted ya sabe. Yo sé que sí.