Sunday part 2

Last night my friend and I got into a fender-bender. It is the second time this has happened to me in LA. I realize it is not that uncommon here but it’s scary to get hit by a car. Specially if like last night we were just standing at a red light waiting for it to change chit-chatting our way to dinner. The guys who hit us hit us so hard we hit the car a few feet in front of us and then he left. That part seems so crazy to me. He just sped away- did he not think we would write down his plate numbers as he left??? The scariest part of all, though, was that the car in front of had a brand new baby in it. Everyone was, thankfully, okay.

Today, I’m still feeling the tension and the shaking I got from the impact but I feel fine. Last night was a different story entirely. I was freaked out and sad. More than freaked out I felt guilty. Sometimes, I feel guilty if I’m having a good time and something bad happens. Specially if I’ve had some wine. I can’t tell you the number of times I have broken or spilled something, including my clumsy self (I have my whole life been prone to falling,) and then felt so horrendously stupid. What is that all about? I don’t like feeling that way.

Then I just felt bad because I had no one to call when the accident happened. Not that I didn’t have anyone because I have lots of people who I could have called but no one who was my love. No one who would hug me, and curl up with me that night, and that made me feel such sadness and loss.

Then this morning I was talking to a relative on the phone about something completely unrelated and he said the shitty thing that I had been dreading over the holidays that some family member would say- “Now that it’s over I can tell you I didn’t really like him anyway.” Because I can always tell that some of my relatives dislike my choice in men. They are too artsy, too out there, not I suspect, puerto rican enough. No one is ever good enough for me because I never date someone who is from a “good” puerto rican family. I have always danced to the beat of my own drum why would anyone expect anything different from me when I have always been like this. Leo was a good man. The fact that the relationship didn’t end with wedding bells doesn’t take that away.