As I write this, I see the grey sky. Which is perfect.
You know how some things in life are a grey area? I’d say grey is my least favorite color, dull and boring. I’d much rather choose white or black, or better yet, all the rainbow colors.
But some things are just too intricate to be labeled as one or the other.
I may not know much about it, but let’s look at the definition of ‘gender’ nowadays. It sure has changed from the time I was a little girl myself. Some of us just don’t belong, or belong to all, and can’t be labeled as ‘a man’ or ‘a woman’. Call it what you wish, but that’s a reality. By the time my daughter is old enough to talk about this (she may already be, actually, as she is very curious and we try to talk about everything openly) I hope to be able to explain things better to her, instead of just saying that it’s a little bit of a grey area these days.
It’s kinda the same when you have a thousand questions and the only person capable of giving you the answers is not here. You can make up the answers yourself. And you can make yourself believe those answers, be it good or bad, because there is nobody else to prove you otherwise.
Or simply don’t question it. Let it rest in peace. What I learned is that when you ask a question, you have to be ready for an answer, which may not necessarily be the answer you wanna hear. And if you are not ready, it’s best not to ask.
Which brings me to the following questions:
- Do I really do myself bad if I refuse to believe something? If I bury it as deep inside as I can, because it hurts to think about it, do I do myself a favor?
- How do I know what is the truth and what is the lie? We can only be sure of our own actions and our own words. What’s inside anybody else’s head, your guess is as good as mine. Only you know what’s in your head, why you said this or did that. And whatever comes out of your mouth is not always the truth. But who’s truth? Mine or yours?
I had always wondered why people believed in something/someone. And in the recent years I came to realize that we believe in something because it makes us feel better.
My life in PG with Beno was full of surprises. The biggest one happened one Sunday. As I had mentioned previously, the house of Beno was always full of people. Most of the time it was filled with the blaring sound of the R&B music. There was always loud talk and laughter, it rarely was a silent place.
On that particular Sunday one of local lads stopped by. The house was full of young men and somehow the talk turned to God. The man who came started reading the Bible. And then suddenly the house turned extremely quiet. The only noise was the voice reading. I was mesmerized. I had not seen all of the youngsters grow quiet so suddenly and so completely. They were paying full attention, they were listening to every word. They believed in God.
And I believe in whatever makes me feel better. Can you blame me?
My three or so months without Beno were not easy. I was missing him very much. At the same time I had a little girl growing inside of me and being surrounded by my family felt so very special.
Beno was back in Mexico. We kept in touch as much as we could (not enough for me, never enough).
In reality, our time apart is a grey area. It used to be black or white, depending on how I looked at it. But then one day it became the story of ‘he said, she said’, and the person who could tell the truth is not here. But who’s truth, mine or yours?
I painted this chapter a thousand shades of grey and I continue to believe in whatever keeps me at peace. As I write this, the sun is out and the sky is blue. Which is perfect.
