I am llevao'

"If the dreams all that I got, then I wish you in a fairy tale where you're still in love with me".

Could that be possible, that we only love once?

I'm about to believe it. I just can't conceive that I have been in love with the same person for four years, and I still love him with the same strength I did the day I told him. We haven't even been anything more than friends. He knows I love him, but I don't know what he thinks about it. He just keeps his mouth shut. And when he opens it, he says nothing that really means something to me. From the very first day of our story the thing has been more than confusing. We've fallen appart thousands of time. I do have the will power to get away from him. But I have no power enough to stop him from getting near me.

I wish he loved me back. I've had other relationships during that four years... but I'm still in love with him. No matter what happens. He can betray me and put me through the sharpest pain... I'll still love him anyways. He's the only man able to take me to heaven and down to hell with few words.

Four years I have had to hold on. And I still have empty hands. And I know they will always be empty. He cannot love me. I cannot stop loving him. And it's not like I don't want to. The best thing that could ever happen to me is to wake up one day and realize that I don't love him anymore. (I guess it would be the best thing that could ever happen to him too). But I've tried hard to, and he doesn't seem to notice that I'm trying to forget about him and then we're together in my room with my rubbing his back.

I wonder what he thinks. I don't want to ask. It would sound as if I wanted him to think something about it... as if I wanted him to feel something for me. Which he doesn't. I wonder why my way to him isn't just closed for ever. Every now and then I find a little piece of faith. And then I started to hold on when I thought that my life was over. We've grown up together to our adultness. We were just teenagers when we met. Now we're adults and we behave worse than fifth graders boys.

He actually has a girlfriend. I think he loves her, and I think she loves him back. I don't think they look good together... but what really matters is that they feel good on each other arms. I wouldn't feel just good. I'd be the happiest man ever on earth. But I can't have everything in life. I just have what I need to live. I don't have anything to be happy with. Well, I feel happy around him and all that stuff, but then I think of his life in few months, and knowing that I ain't gonna be with him anymore since we already finished our bachelors degree, and I can't help but feel really down. We're gonna fall appart this time... for good.

And it's heart wrenching. It breaks my heart to think that I'm not seeing him anymore. But if it's not like that, I'm gonna be in love with him for the rest of my life. Be in love with him as I watch him make his own life, maybe with a wife, have children, and me all by my self and still in love with him. We're going through a good moment between us. But I think it's gonna be over in less than no time leaving me in pain. Many of my friends have told me to stop loving him, they have told me that I can't be in love with someone that only brings heartache to me. It's not just heartache, I think. It's sorrow, impotence, pain, tears of joy, tears of sadness, "wholeness", power, confidence. And the most important thing... I learned to love because of him. I can't conceive other but him. I think that he's Mr. Right to me. But I'm not worth it, I think. Not at least to him. Well, frankly speaking, I'm not worth to anybody since I'm always by myself for a given reason I don't know. Which push me to love him even more 'cause he is all want to have.

I wonder if I'll forget about him, of at least if I'll ever stop loving him...

I am llevao'

Llevao: You use that word on someone that has been in love for a while and that is not loved back, and that can not forget about the other person.

Bluyiniada

Newsweek, 2/15/93, p. 46: "For years, the gay-rights movement has sought safety in numbers. Its leaders have long claimed that homosexuals constitute 10 percent of the American population. They cited Alfred Kinsey, who interviewed thousands of men and women for landmark studies on human sexuality in the 1940s and 1950s. Activists seized on the double digits to strengthen their political message–that millions of citizens are excluded from the mainstream by anti-gay discrimination. Policymakers and the press (including NEWSWEEK) adopted the estimate–despite protests from skeptical conservatives–citing it time and again.

Could that be possible?

Fortune, 1991, p. 42: "Kinsey’s classic 1948 studies suggest that about 10% of American adults are homosexual, a figure that more recent surveys support."

Is it really true?

Washington Times, 11/19/91, p. A3: "10 percent of American men are homosexual and 5 percent of women are lesbian."

Are they serious?

Even the head of the American Psychological Association, Bryant Welch, testified on 2/6/89 that the APA had found "in fact all the research supported the conclusion that homosexuality... is a sexual orientation found consistently in about ten percent of the male population and approximately 5 percent of the female population.... research showed that across different historical eras and in totally different cultures the incidence of homosexuality remained the same irrespective of public attitudes and prohibitions."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Living in a south american city, where almost everybody (not me) wants to act like an american would, it means that one out in ten men would be gay. That's something I can't conceal.

I am GAY. It's not like I think that's a cool thing or anything. Being so is quite difficult itself. And I don't think that anyone actually enjoys being queer.

I don't know... I am a little homophobic. I know! I am crazy, being a homophobic gay... But I'm just that. I don't like men touching me, I don't like them talking to me as if I was a girl (i.e. Treating me with soft words)

I just don't like men. Normally, I just like ONE man. And that man has owner-rights over me. But then again that man would not be gay, or would not be interested in me. So I'm all by myself most of the time ('most' just to hide the fact that I'm so alone all the time).

I'm not bad looking. In fact, I've heard many compliments, and not just from my friends (no.... not my family either). If I was I wouldn't be writing this, and you, dear reader (given that someone's reading this [which I pretty doubt]), wouldn't know what "Bluyinieada" means, colloquially speaking in Colombia.

I had to buy some decent clothes on saturday so I told my mother to come along. We took the transmilenio, which normally looks like this:



It's so overcrowded all the time. Suddenly a pretty handsome man stood in front of me, but didn't say a word nor did he make some gesture. He just stood in front of me as if he hadn't noticed I was there. I didn't pay attention to that fact and kept on talking with my mother. But suddenly I felt his crotch over my tighs. I thought it was because it was so full that the poor lad couldn't move a single inch to prevent us from contact.

But it wasn't like that I found lout ater. He started to caress my back, but he wasn't being obvious. You would've had to keep on staring at us for a while to notice. I was flattered because that man was hot I have to say. I knew that I was doing wrong. I had to make it stop one way or the other. But I was enjoying it. Ok, I know, homophobic... blah, blah... I'm not made up of steel. I've been lonely for oh so long. And the fucker was gorgeous.

So I didn't make it stop.

I thought everything was ending up just like that, but we went through a tunnel and the lights went out for five seconds. And he then looked into my eyes with that look in his eyes. I melted... Then I blushed and he burst out laughing. I immediatly told my mother to get off and catch another bus for a stupid reason I can't remember now. Obviously I got off with her.

That guy and I had a bluyiniada.

Bluyiniada: A word you use to refer a couple's crotch rubbing with clothes on.

Related words:

- Maniculitetiada
- Tarriada

Eplanation of the word:

Comes from blue-jean (which is translitered like bluyin)