A letter to my ex’s current boyfriend

Do you know you shouldn’t tickle her because they hurt her? Do you know the difference between their sarcastic and happy smiles? Do you know that you shouldn’t give an opinion about your family, or speak ill of your former boyfriends? only me i know. I don’t think you have any idea what it’s like to sleep with her. Sleep, not fuck. Fuck, too. But sleep. Sleep and wake up next to her. Her life is crooked. Do not forget that. She always wakes up sleepy, but at almost two in the morning, she is tossing and turning in bed chasing the sleep she lost in the morning.

For her, everything has a name of “thing”. The remote control is a “thing”. The bag is a “thing”. Cutlery is a “thing”. Even the dog is a “thing”. She once said I-I-I-feel-something-strange. For me, it was a bad feeling. Or hunger. Or colic. I do not know. It was love. Love-thing, she said.

She loved me, man.

She’s all signs. She cuts her hair when she wants to change her life. More than five centimeters is because she wants to revolutionize the world. Be careful in these moments. The colors of nails and lingerie determine her libido. When she puts on lipstick, she thinks about kissing. Lip glosses, too. Know this, man.

But she, too, knows how to fake it. She will pretend not to care, be strong, be wise or smart. You’ll even pretend she doesn’t need you, even when she’s over thirty with a fever and breaking records for sneezes per second. Do not mind. It’s because she doesn’t want you to find her with a red nose and a bad cough and a sore throat. Even without her leaving, go visit her and take care of her. For me and for you.

She smokes when she gets angry or when she drinks. She drinks whenever she wants, without special occasions. One day, she woke up one Sunday drinking vodka for breakfast. But she knows how to enjoy a nice chocolatey, too. She’s going to look tough every now and then. But she’s a little girl, she goes for me. Caress the cheek. She won’t resist.

She won’t mind splitting the bill. If you propose to pay everything, she won’t let her, but she’ll still be happy with your attitude. And in time, she’ll pay the bill, too. Most likely, on some Wednesday, he will call you in the middle of work just to give you good news and say he wants to celebrate at her favorite restaurant: the Japanese restaurant on the corner of her house. You’ll be amazed at how much she can eat per second. She likes teriyaki sauce and sashimi. And I don’t know if she’s learned to eat with chopsticks yet. I think not. Offer help.

She is as much a man as all men. She likes thighs, butt, belly and crotch. When she goes to the beach, she usually notices the volume of other people’s swim trunks and comments with friends. But she really falls in love with mouths. Lips, smiles, nibbles and words.

Almost always, she falls in love with human men. She loves hearing about psychology, politics, literature and pop culture. But she don’t talk like a fool. Learn to listen, too. If you’re not already in love with her, you’ll be delighted when she starts talking about her poetry, Rimbaud, Manoel de Barros and her desire to understand each other. She lives in an eternal questioning about herself. She messes up and soon regrets it. But she believes that every mistake is for learning. Don’t judge her for that. Don’t even try to understand it.

Finally, just understand and learn that without her, you will be like me: an eternal prisoner of memories.

EOH