29- Ice cream tears

So without understanding or thinking about what I was doing, I left the ice cream line and waited for Meb in the car as if I had just seen a ghost, not a friendly ghost but a spectral friend of the ghost of my past. I reluctantly lit a cigarette and rolled down the window, mixing my Vera Wang perfume, Meb's Chanel, and nicotine. Within minutes, Meb returned confused, holding two McCflurrys in her hands. We hadn't even reached the first traffic light when I broke down in tears. Meb parked the car and asked me what was wrong. Seeing her act so understanding towards me just made me feel like an idiot. How could I explain to her what I felt when I came face to face with my past erased from the map and replaced by a present of paradoxes and mistakes? Knowing that I had been judged by so many people and Patrick's friends, who saw me as the crazy ex-girlfriend, the jealous one, the weirdo, the hippie dog-saver, the little piece of shit, the slut of the moment, the one who didn't last more than three fucks. When none of them could really understand what had happened. Breakups were hard, but it was even harder to know that only Patrick and I could know what really happened between us. Then there were no judgmental looks or reproaches, it was just us and the world at peace under our skin. Just the two of us, face to face and in silence, we could understand it, but Patrick wasn't like that. I had a slight suspicion that he would say the same shit he had said about his ex, but this time I would be the protagonist, his new ex. Or maybe he wouldn't even talk about me with his new girlfriend and would be too busy building his beautiful life on top of the ruins of my existence.

I don't know, maybe I was always too bad at building relationships and unfortunately I always ended up with the most untameable horses from the cavalry. If they gave me a beautiful white pony, I wasn't attracted to it at all, even if it knelt down for me to ride it. But after all, I have to admit that those who are hard to tame will always be the best life teachers. Or maybe that was my problem, seeing my girlfriends as pets.

Patrick taught me to fuck wonderfully, in every sense of the word, to love in a thousand ways and to laugh while kissing. The only thing he didn't teach me was how to roll joints and other bad habits of life, to lie to my heart while his brown eyes looked over my shoulders as if the glow of my soul were his horizon, but above all, he never taught me to forget her. And thanks to this last one, I kept stumbling while wearing my best cowboy boots and looking for the wildest horse to run alongside him.

"What do others expect from you, Dasy? They expect you to crumble and not get up, you can't give them the pleasure," Meb said, wiping my cheeks.

"I know, it's just that I've never been the type of girl who has a love and the next day goes around as if the sun were still shining. When all the sun has been taken by that person, I feel like others can notice it, you know?" I replied.

"I think you still shine wonderfully. When you enter a place, there's an impact of light," Meb said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled, imagining the "impact of light."

"Dasy, I'm not sure if I've ever really been in love. What I can admit with certainty is that I know how to love, and I know how much it hurts. And it doesn't always have to hurt, when we let ourselves be loved, all those wounds can fade away in a hug. And without realizing it, they don't drown you as much as seeing you shed a tear. It's so frustrating to see you cry, and worse to know that it's because of that girl who won't even come to comfort you."

"Sorry, I don't want to cry over her, and I certainly don't want you to console me. I feel so stupid," I admitted, wiping my eyelids and pressing my trembling lips, soaked in salt.

"Do you know that your tears shine?" Meb said, staring at my face. I covered my face with both hands and wiped my cheeks, but she was faster and stopped me before touching my face. "They shine," she repeated. I shrugged and hid my sadness under my wet lashes.

"They always shine," I admitted, trying to downplay my star-like nature. "I don't know why," I concluded, wiping my face. Meb remained silent and watched me sob cautiously.

"Crying is good for you, precious. It helps you get rid of those stabs that still hurt…" Meb caressed my head while it rested on her shoulder. "Do you want to go to the movies?" she asked, burying her fingers in my hair in a synchronized motion. I raised my head and looked at her surprised.

"Really?" I said, with some enthusiasm.

"Yes, I can skip my shift in the afternoon. And then we'll go to the hospital," she said calmly, curving a smile on her thin lips. "God, she's so beautiful," I thought sadly, still feeling the grief that filled my chest.

"Yes! Oh, I love the idea! I want to see Sandra Bullock's new movie…" I added with growing excitement at the thought of popcorn and candy. "Omg, it's Sandra Bullock!" She smiled and kissed my shoulder.

Anyway, so much life and so little desire. So much pain and I was still breathing. Breathing without thinking and walking alongside someone who knew how to take care of my steps felt so good. I was like a little girl coming out of rehab. Maybe I can never forget Patrick, and it's very likely that these bursts of memories and people I stumble upon who remind me that I was once happy with her will drown me one of these days; but everything will be fine, and it will continue to be as long as there is a slight chance to cleanse a wound that will never heal while my lungs fill with water. Because loving Patrick was as necessary for me as breathing.

"After breaking up with that girl, you blamed yourself so much, thinking that you were the problem," she said, her hands on the steering wheel, creasing her forehead. "What a way to love yourself, Dasy! You think you lost someone, but you know what? Let me tell you what the picture looks like from the outside after a while. She's the one who lost something, something really great. You. You shouldn't cry for her. Remember that you endured her mood swings, her dismissals, her 'I can't text you all day because I'm too busy.' Remember the reasons why you decided to distance yourself from her."