Madrid (part one)
PREFACE
Dear readers, if anybody:
To tell my stories happened in this magical city of Madrid when in my mid-30s. I’ve decided to start to write them down as a novel/journal.
This is a magic age for me. coz it extends to all possiblities of how my life would turn out before the other doors close.
Yet, it’s extremely hard. I can hear the approaching of my clock ticking. it’s far, but it’s already there. in fact, pre-old is the constant feeling I couldn’t shake at this point of my life.
I feel like adding something more here, but for now I will just leave it here. I will put more when I have a better idea, what this of nothing turns out.
DANIEL part one
Sunday morning, I didn’t bother to look at the time in my smart bracelet. I guess I felt comfortable and at peace. It’s been a long time since somebody slept next to me.
Couldn’t tell it was noon or still morning. Daniel, had the habit of not leaving the blinds complete shut before going to bed. Yes, his name is Daniel, the same as mine. He usually leaves the spaces between each blind separated. The sunlight would gently enter the room without brightening up the place too much.
I tried to go back to sleep as he did. But I couldn’t anymore. As soon as I realised the day had started, my head began to fill up with things to do, plans and problems to be solved. But the difference with Daniel next to me, I gave much less fuck about them. They were just random thoughts floating in my head.
Between tossing and turning, and Daniel’s snoring, I watched the room from almost completely dark to bright enough to see clearly. I guessed by then it was noon already.
“Good moring” I woke him up and was able to look at his face carefully with enough sunlight in the room, with which age couldn’t be hidden. The skin on his chin were loose. So were his eyelids. And his baldness, I could almost tell what’s left were only grey or white hair, there was no black. For a second, I felt the urge to check his ID if really he only had 48.
I left his house almost running, that somehow it felt like a relief that I was not there with him anymore.
I arrived home unshowered, wearing the same underwear and T-shirt. I jumped into the shower almost right away, letting the water flush down my sin and dirt.
I have this habit of not showering after hooking up with somebody I really like. Obviously this was not the case. Yet, I texted Daniel “hi” afterwards. Coz I knew he would love to carry on with me, from the look he had when I left in the morning, from the kisses he tried to give me in the softest way he could possibly when we woke up. We chatted a little bit more to make plans for next time.
Then I was enjoying the peace and quietness in my apartment in this Sunday.
It’s on the 1st floor, so there is never natural light that it feels like a basement most of the time.
Get DANNY MAR’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
It would feel like nighttime inside, but just two steps aways from my door when I’m on the street, I would be showered in the brightest good daylight that Madrid usually has.
MOISES part one
The tranquillity I was enjoying after fleeing away from Daniel’s was so short that it almost felt like an instant. I couldn’t tell I was drown by my thoughts again that I needed a break or I was reacting to the dissatisfaction with Daniel.
Anyway, I was urged to open Growlr and Grindr, no less than 30 minutes after I arrived home, yet there were still only faces dumb to me, to this most ordinary Asian profile you can find anywhere. There were the same people I found attractive but never bothered to reply to my “Hola, Guapo. Cómo estás?’’. I never insist, I just leave this message and see how it goes.
As my philosophy goes, what’s mine is bound to be mine, without an extra effort. The same philosophy I’d applied in all the relationships I’ve had. As I never initiated the talk again whenever me and my exes were on a fight or a break. Plus, it feels like a win if the other one starts the talk.
I didn’t remember after how long. There was a message poped up from Growlr. Finally. Someone called “quien invita”, in English it means “who invites”, as an implication that he was looking for somebody to invite him. If I’m correct, it means looking for somebody to invite him for a drink.
Yet, I paid much more attention to his foto. It was a rather sexy guy half naked, sat outside. Probably at a beach.
It was shot from below his waist, so the body muscles were the closest to the camera. The lines and curves of his belly and chest were extending, against his firm brown skin. It was clear that he went to gym often. Maybe that was one of his good angles.
He had this masculine smile, looking down to the camera, almost taunting at his audience. Of course his eyebrows were frowned a bit, giving the bear vibe.
I could immediately tell his latin features, from the extended corners of eyes and cheekbones that are wide but not thick, that were different from spanish men, usually with more round and focused eyes. And cheekbones are more fronted.
He told me he was very interested in knowing a Chinese, even becoming one’s boyfriend. Back in his country, there were a lot of chinese immigrants. We exchanged the areas where we live and he would love to see me soon. All those commen chitchat, were like a fire, lighting up all my possiblities with this sexy creature.
He told me he is from Venezuela, which confirmed my theory. And the memories of my bad histories with venezuelans flashed through my mind for a second.
How they disappeared or never showed up on an arranged date.
How they started to ask for things right after the 1st date or hookup.
How they lied and manipulated, in the most obvious ways possible, yet well disgused in their latin warmth.
How unreliable they have been in general.
We shared contacts quickly. He had few posts in his Instagram, just 5 pictures of himself in Madrid while he had more than 1000 followers. I assumed he was that good-looking and popular.
We decided to meet on the next Wednesday. I was pretty excited about the encounter with him since he agreed to meet so quickly. I guess his attraction to me, ticked over the balance of my other rational thinking. I mean how good-looking he was, and how accelerating the thoughts of having him as my treat were.
I did a very rough and quick calculus of risk control of meeting him, this another venezuelan, on the possible damages to my money and health, completely neglecting the emotion parts.
I thought I had this under control and was well ready. Yet, I was just being naive again.
