it’s a thin line between love and vomit…

courtesy of open.spotify.com

courtesy of open.spotify.com

Vomit. Wrote a blog about it. Like to hear it? Here it go.

Yes, I did deliberately mess around with the opening lines of the En Vogue song, “Free Your Mind.” I couldn’t help myself. I have been listening to their album Funky Divas the past week as I have been formulating this blog post. It was inevitable that the two ideas would collide. Hopefully in a good way, like chocolate and peanut butter 🙂

And as I really love music and can pinpoint exact songs for each year, each relationship, each significant event in my life; it was also inevitable that the title for this blog would be a play on the old Persuaders song, “It’s a thin line between love and hate.” Because really that’s what this blog post is about – love and hate. And when do we cross that line.? For me, it was one fateful night in December 2010 and the vomit just took me over the edge.

I had been living in Mexico for two weeks. My first boyfriend in Mexico at the time (the betrayer – see blog post Smoke and Mirrors) and I were having problems. Let’s call him Tabasco from the state in Mexico. Our relationship had been fun and exciting for the first eight months. Granted, it had also been long distance. But I had felt that the amount of time we had taken to get to know each other during those eight months – hundreds of conversations, trips to see each other, even a vacation to Mexico City – had solidified our bond. Boy was I wrong.!

We were great at a long distance relationship.! Sweet reunions, beach days, day trips, and late night parties made our relationship seem exciting.! Later on, I would just use the word fake to describe it. However, up close and personal, our relationship was horrible.! We didn’t know how to do an everyday relationship.! So we fought…a lot. And we were disappointed…a lot. I kept thinking, how could I have been so wrong. I must have reread dozens of messages looking for the hidden clues I had somehow missed. Alas, whatever signs existed, they were smaller than breadcrumbs. So I decided in the meantime, I would focus on myself, find a job since my first one fell through, and make new friends.

getting ready to go out

getting ready to go out

But, on this fateful day, Tabasco called me because he wanted to hang out with me and some of our friends. I quickly agreed because I was excited at the prospect of resurrecting our relationship by recreating an event we were good at – hanging out.! However, I noted at the time of the phone call and subsequent text messages that Tabasco had already started drinking. By the time, he arrived with some of our friends to my apartment. He was definitely drunk.! And I was sober. Not a good combination. So I had a beer or two.

While we were waiting for two other friends to arrive, Tabasco decided he wanted to talk to me out on my balcony. He told me how much he loved me and wanted our relationship to work. I explained to him the reasons why the relationship wasn’t working for me. Trust. My old faithful servant – my trusty sidekick – the monkey on my back. And I will never forget the words he said to me that night. Because even to this day they make me laugh hysterically and the bile rises in my throat. Tabasco looked at me intently and said, “Rosa, you’re in Mexico now. Leave your trust issues at the border. You don’t need them here.” hahahahahahahahahahhahaha…..ok wait I need a minute to stop laughing and to get a kleenex to stop from puking….
…………………………………………………………………………………

Ok….I’m back now. Really.? So in that moment, I decided to believe him. And in due time, we made our way to the ‘all you can eat meat place’ on 10 Avenida y 26 Calle. Unfortunately, the restaurant is no longer there. I’m assuming at 110 pesos per meal (about $9), playenses ate them out of pork chop and drumstick.! On the way to the restaurant, Tabasco held my hand and the whole group was laughing and talking. It reminded me of the good times I had remembered prior to my move. During that walk, one of my friends called me from the states and we spoke briefly. During the call, she told me how sad everyone at home was without me and that Tabasco and all of Mexico should realize how lucky they were to have me. I can’t help thinking in retrospect that I had needed to hear those encouraging words.!

At the restaurant, we chowed down on every meat dish imaginable and washed it down with micheladas.!! It was an amazing evening. It was so wonderful that we decided to continue the party back at my place. So all of us strolled, laughed, and joked all the way back to my place. After maybe thirty minutes of drinking, talking, and listening to music, Tabasco decided he needed to lie down because he wasn’t feeling well. So I walked with him to my room, made sure he made it into bed and left him there to sleep it off.

friends hanging out at my place

friends hanging out at my place

I went back to attend to the rest of my guests who were having an amazing time. One of our friend’s had their sister in town and she didn’t speak English. At the time, my Spanish was terrible. But no matter, she and I quickly bonded and started speaking broken Spanish and English to each other. Then it became a free for all with so many mixed messages, double entendres, and just plain confusion. Sometime during this insanity, we heard Tabasco shout out something. So I went to check in on him. As I entered the room, the worst smell imaginable assailed my nostrils.

I cannot even begin to describe to you what half a dozen different types of meat mixed with unquantifiable amounts of liquor smells nor looks like when it is regurgitated.! What I do remember is that with the lights off, it appeared that a small animal was laying across my white comforter and making it’s way off the bed to the floor. So I naturally screamed as I flicked the light on to get a better look at the predator.! With the lights on, I realized it wasn’t an animal, but some type of liquid/solid that looked like the color of blood.! So my inital reaction was one of concern which may be the reason, I didn’t throw up myself. Because as you know dear reader, I am sensitive to puking.!

my bedroom and my lovely comforter

my bedroom and my lovely comforter

After that, all hell broke loose. Tabasco was still drunk and after puking all he wanted to do was leave. Leave.?! Are you frickin’ kidding me.! His friends tried to convince him to stay. No one felt like he was in any condition to be going anywhere. But he would not be swayed nor stopped. And so he left, with only his boxers and undershirt on. He didn’t even get dressed.!! Two of his friends ran after him carrying his clothes. The sister left after them. However, two of Tabasco’s friends stayed behind to make sure I was ok. I wasn’t ok. But I had not tried to stop him because I was finished. I told them both that I was ok. And I locked the door behind me.

Then I layed down on my tiled floor and cried. and cried. I don’t remember how long I cried. But it lasted for at least a half hour before I picked myself up off the floor. And then I started cleaning. I was cleaning not just my home, but every last vestige of what he and I had together. I cleaned the dining room. I cleaned the living room. I cleaned the kitchen. And then I made my way to the bedroom and started that horrendous process. Once it was over, I went to sleep.

In the morning, I called my best friend M. to tell her the story. She was dumbfounded as was I. I explained to her why I was finished with him. I didn’t want a man who drank that much that he embarrassed himself in front of his friends. I didn’t want a man who drank that much that he puked all over his girlfriend’s bed and never offered to help clean up or pay for the cleaning bill on the comforter. Nor did I want a man who didn’t know how to apologize. I never got an apology for that mishap. Wow.! Eventually, I found out, he had another girlfriend who acted more like his wife. So you can see why his earlier words left such a bitter aftertaste. But no matter…

By the end of the conversation with M., we were laughing hysterically because I had to go to the laundry and explain in Spanish, “Can you please clean the vomit off my comforter?” or “Puede usted por favor limpiar el vĂłmito de mi colcha?” That sentence became my first foray into seriously learning the Spanish language. And my first statement of independence living in a foreign country. Life only got better after that incident. And my time in Mexico is no longer tied with that man. Sometimes actually, it’s as if he never existed because so many other wonderful people stepped into my life and filled my existence with happiness. Therefore, never underestimate the power of vomit to change your life.! On that note, I leave you with this lovely song….

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