Sasha Merci

5 days 4 nights

A story about a jaded serial dater.

Have I grown jaded to the idea of love? Yes, I guess, but let’s be honest, not everyone is lucky to find someone they could be miserable with for the rest of their lives. My aunt and uncle met years before I was born, and til this day I see how unfortunate they are. I’m joking they’re happy as fuck, but the way I was conceived far from a fairytale. In fact, my birth mother and my biological father were having an affair with one another. I don’t know if it was love at first sight, but they met at the corner store bodega where my dad worked as a clerk. I guess they liked each other because they kept seeing one another until I was the sperm that beat all the other sperm. Yay me.

My mother was 3month pregnant when she found out that breast cancer had spread throughout her entire body. Doctors gave her an option to get an abortion & go through chemo or just give birth and increase the chance of her death. My mother lived till I was three months and from there on out, I was bounced from home to home.  My grandparents raised me till I was 6, I then lived with my Father and stepmother till I was 12, then moved to who became my parents, my Aunt and Uncle until I was 18. If you are a social worker and are reading this, you’re thinking, this is the textbook definition of abandonment issues & you’re right. I’m not telling you this to turn on waterworks, but this is the antecedent that molded my thought process.

If every latina in my teenage years had a list, it would say
1. Keep Your Virginity for your husband.
2. Learn how to cook or clean for your husband.
3. Go to school graduate.
4. Have a career.
5. Make sure to keep your virginity for your husband

I was never boy crazy, so when I liked a boy, I’ll kick them in the balls and run. It was my token of appreciation for making me feel this pain in my stomach people call “butterflies.” Even though I was not boy crazy, I was obsessed with Disney movies. My favorite movie was the little mermaid. I would force my older brothers to draw random mermaids for me.

I fucking hated my virginity, because why is my value being measured by what’s between my legs. When I lost my virginity, it was more of a fuck you to society, even though I did wait, a little. I lost my virginity at the age of 17. One, It felt like it was a huge burden to carry into my 20’s & two I ended up falling for this pretty charming guy that lived in the projects.

Before losing my virginity, I had a couple of awkward make-out sessions with guys that were in their late teens to early 20’s. My first kiss was in the building staircase, I was 13, and he was 20. It was awkward because I was pushed up against the wall while he was shoving his tongue in my mouth. I remember he had me sit on his lap, he smacked my butt then said: “You’d look better with red hair and green contacts.”  At that point, I knew it wasn’t going to work out because green contacts and red hair were for “putas” like my stepmom used to say.

The first guy who’s parents I met was this 18-year-old boy I kept seeing, and I was 14. I think he was my boyfriend because he said I was his girlfriend, but I never said I was his girlfriend so yeah. He was super cute green eyes, caramel skin. One day he came to surprise me by picking me up after school. I noticed there were a couple of girls looking out the window gushing over some guy, again I was not boy crazy. I get downstairs to see that he was waiting for me at the bus stop. Most people would think that was nice of him, but I thought he was it pretty fucking annoying. I walked up to him, and he said something like “surprise baby.” I could hear the girls gushing over him; I looked back to see the disappointment on their faces when they realized he came to pick me,  up. I then turned to him and said: “Don’t you ever pick me up again.” I ended up breaking up with him when he made poems about taking my virginity. “I want to deflower you like the flower that you are.” At the time, I did not know what that meant, & I still don’t know what that means because it makes no sense.

After him, I ended up developing a major crush on a guy that always ignored me. I was in a relationship with him in my head for like three years. Okay well, not an actual relationship but I liked him. He was my cousin’s friend. I remember I would write him through aim and the most I would get from him was a “hi.” I remember I would change my screen names to something cooler, just to write him. Classic little Mermaid shit, change who you are for him to notice you. When I would write him through these different screen names the most, I would get from him was “Who Dis” I’d say “Sasha” and he’ll respond by going on idle. Keep this guy in mind he also appears, later on, can’t wait to tell you how I fucked this up.

I ended up forgetting about boys all together. It was not till I was 17 on my senior year, that I fell for this High School dropout from the projects, with a charming smile. What initially attracted me to him was his sense of humor and his want for more in life. You know me, always wanting more. When I lost my virginity to him was kind of cute because we were losing it together, but there was nothing sweet about getting your hymen broken. That shit hurt. Anyways, like every puppy love story it starts off exciting, then it’s to gets annoying with a whole bunch of demands. I asked for things in which he could not deliver. I do not remember what led to our breakup at the time, but it was my first heartbreak. Later on, I realized that heartbreak was due to my expectations of him.
Also, Keep my first in mind because he will appear again in this story.

I was always kind of mysterious and to myself, and it was because all I cared about was drawing, writing and singing. People thought I was mysterious, but the only thing mysterious about me was that I was still watching sponge bob marathons til I was 18.

I was like the Dark Knight with the pussy though, if things were getting too serious I would dip.  

That was because part of me felt like I was doing them a favor. I didn’t want to stick around long enough til things got boring. My motto was “Don’t be sad that it’s over, Be happy that it happened.”

I don’t process my emotion like ordinary people. What should make me happy pisses me off, and what makes me sad motivates me? I guess it comes from a part of me where I believe that happiness and emotions are fleeting, so why give it too much importance. (I’m a positive person I promise.) 

I moved to Atlanta and met a guy. He was one of those Puerto Ricans that didn’t speak Spanish. On our first date, he did a doughnut in the rain, and the car swerved to the point it almost hit a tree. While the car spun in circles I stood utterly frozen, I thought I was going to die and weirdly so I accepted my death. As the car swerved on to the grass, he was able to break a couple of feet away from the tree. He nervously laughed and looked at me; I could tell he was more scared than anything else. “We almost died!” he said to me as I stood completely still and just manage to nod. This goes to show you my average taste in guys. I even kept seeing him because I was young and dumb & loved to make my life more difficult. We stop seeing each other because he wouldn’t stop mentioning his Ex-girlfriend. I honestly did not care when he would talk about her; after a while, I scolded him for letting her go.

Anyways when I came back to New York & met the guy, I was going to be with for the next five years of my life. I’ll call him Heroin, some might think it’s too crazy for a comparison, but I believe it compares just right. “Heroin! Really?” Yes! The love made me feel invincible, safe, tranquil at all the same time. I was very much in love with him, but my family was not too fond of him. I’m a real believer that people can see what you can not. They did not hate him, but they knew we weren’t a match. I was 19, and he was 28, I thought he was the smartest and the most well-spoken person I’ve ever met. He captivated me with his humor and his youthfulness. We bonded over music and how similar we saw the entertainment world. Anytime he spoke I would listen, and his opinions became my truth. It wasn’t till I started forming my views that thing started to cause friction. I wasn’t understood, and then I picked up this bad habit of not speaking and leaving every time we had problems. I became weary of the relationship because we were maintaining instead of repairing. He intended to protect me, by teaching me the way he learned things in his life, which put a strain in our dynamic. I started to see him as a parental figure. At one point we were arguing so much that part of me felt guilty as if I was holding him back from being with a better partner. Like a coward, I never expressed that to him. When it was over, I felt like we were both lost so much time trying to keep up with the idea of “love.”

“Imagine the story being like this.  A girl that lived in the highest tower, which let’s just say is where I hide my all of my emotions. Someone took interest and had the patience to wait for me to let my hair down. When I did finally did invite this person in, I was a complete mess. Naturally, he tried to help me become someone the best way he knew how. He wanted to build me, but unfortunately, it is my job to create myself. ”

TO BE CONTINUE 

Fuck the FUNK LA

I feel like a fish out of water out here in LA. They told me it was not going to be easy to adjust. I didn’t believe them because I’m from NEW YORK and we’re “straight hustlers.” That means nothing when you have severe writer’s block and can’t create SHIT. My depression has crippled me for a whole week. I mean I laid my head to rest on Monday and woke up on Sunday, not realizing an entire week has gone by. I’ve been asking myself if I made the right choice in moving out here. I have amazing friends but its hard to adjust when you’ve already established yourself outside of LA. I honestly don’t feel as funny as I used too; I don’t have a car, so I’m more like a hamster in a cage trying to find humor while turning the same wheel. I understand it’s a new beginning & I should trust the journey, but it doesn’t make it less scary.  I can’t just rely on my family or friends because they’re so far away, it almost feels like everything I am is back home. What pushes me is that I love what I do because it somehow brings joy and laughter to peoples lives. My favorite thing about laughter is that it reminds us we’re alive even during the shittest times. So the friendships I’ve made so far in my life are my core, and my core people will roast me during the shittest times. Not so long ago I had my hair butchered off and decided to own it like “The New Me”. I got a couple of calls and text from my friends back home like “Sup Richard Simmons you look beautiful.” Even though I felt like shit with this haircut that text had me laughing for days. Out here I find myself trying to communicate my issues and it’ll be brushed it off like “Girl you fine!” Am I fine? Growing up I never felt good enough, so being thrown in this “world” where people say “you’re great” I don’t believe them. That becomes an internal struggle at times that keeps me from seeing the bigger picture. So when I meet people they probably think I’m a bitch I don’t socialize much because my humor might be too self-deprecating for some. In conclusion, I’m more of an ambivert but 3 shots of Vodka I’m either doing a split or blackout from doing the split because I’m not a gymnast. I like making genuine connections with people, but it’s hard when it’s all business out here. My friends that are out here have jobs so when I’m not filming or doing something productive I just watch porn until I fall asleep (which is ruining my dating life). Hopefully for those who are going through a Funk today feel better. Remember to keep your eye on the prize.

My biggest fear life is forgetting my memories.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Everything is changing, and I feel like the time is now or never. As I start to pack my bags, I begin to read my old poems and stories. With my open luggage on the ground and my empty closet, this moment is starting to make sense. Subconsciously I’ve been preparing myself for this moment. Looking through my notebooks and loose sheets of writing I scrummage through to find the old me. I must have always been a hopeless romantic because I’ve written all these stories about love and how it turns you into a better person. I could honestly laugh at the 14 years old me. The funny thing is I don’t think I was aware of what I was writing, I just wrote what I saw on tv. 

Now I’m moving to LA from my favorite city in the world, and I do not know what to expect. I’m excited that I have friends that are willing to have my back and believe in me this much. This makes me feel like I have no other choice but to believe in myself and that is something I am grateful for. I’ve been working in a hotel for 7 years, that was my institution. I’m leaving my friends and family behind so you just imagine how I feel, mixed emotions of excitement and sadness.  

In Dec 2016 I met someone who inspired me to travel, he bought my ticket to Bali. It was the first time in my life I’ve ever flown 22 hours away from home, it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done yet it was worth it. It put things in perspective for me, I’m working and being miserable in a hotel because I choose too. Financially I’ve been feeling trapped, but that trip made me realize that I wasn’t trapped in life. It encouraged me to see the world at a lot larger than what I think it is, and so are the possibilities. 

I don't think if I wouldn’t have taken that trip to Bali, I don't think I’d have the courage to do this move. Just like Bali it was now or never if I wouldn’t have gone and seen how beautiful and different the other side of the world could be, then when would I’ve ever taken the chance to do it. The older you get you start to get used to whats around you, and you begin to develop phobias, it becomes harder to take risks and chances. 

As I look through my old writings to find the old me, I realized she’s been writing about the Me that I am today. I have goals and dreams I need to accomplish I have people that believe in me and support me. This move isn’t for me, its also for everyone the supports me.