As the water began to bowl, I
opened the pasta packet and dropped it all inside. I was eating alone, but I
felt hungry and also felt like not having to excuse myself if I wanted to eat a
bit more than usual. I turned to the fridge and grabbed my favorite pasta
sauce. I would mix it with vegetables and cheese, in order to turn my meal into
a needed relaxing time. I really needed to stop thinking about all the things
around me and just, for once, enjoy myself having a nice plate of hot and
hearty food.
The pasta softened fast and my
sauce started boiling in no time as well. I had chopped onions, peppers,
carrots and mushrooms, as well as a big eggplant that I had found in my fridge
and didn’t remember buying at the store. It all went into the sauce and I decided
to wait for everything to be just perfect. I grabbed my phone, and browsed
through happy pictures of people, some traveling and some others with their
children and getting married or celebrating something with, apparently,
thousands of people somewhere nice.
I rarely had any time to go on
holidays, so I always wondered how the hell they did it, how was it that they
earned a very decent living and, at the same time, had so much time to do
nothing. Getting a job had taken me forever and it was not now that I would
attempt to lose it only to go frolicking in the waves of some beach in an Asian
country. I sure was jealous of what they had, but not at every single moment of
my life. It was just when I browsed those stupid pictures and also when I felt
not so high on myself.
The pasta had to be ready then. I
grabbed my plastic strainer and took all the water out from it. When it was
good and dry, I put it back into the pot. No moment left to think, I grabbed
the other pot with the sauce and pour it all over my pasta. Looking at those
delicious chunks of deliciousness was enough to make me feel very happy again.
I forgot about the stupid pictures I had seen and decided to only dedicate the
rest of that day to the delicious food I was making and also going to eat.
I stir it all good and even put
on some butter on it, in order for the pasta not to stick to anything too much.
As I moved my food around, the smell of it all reminded me of better times or
at least easier ones. I remembered the food that was served to me in the
cafeteria, at school. I especially remembered taco day. The tacos were not even
that good but the rush of having such an uncommon food in school was enough to
make me feel happy. It even made the food taste so much better. I would ask the
lady for more and more, until she had to tell me that others also wanted to eat
tacos.
Fat was something I never really
was but I did get a bit chunky in high school. I think it was because I would
rather completely avoid any physical exercise. I ate like any kid does at that
age, tacos were an exception. What I really hated was physical education and
how the teachers were always so happy and positive in those courses. It was
really unnerving how fucking happy they were to play anything or to make us run
around the whole school. It was almost like some sort of boot camp, at least in
their minds.
As I served myself a big bowl of
pasta, I realized I was smiling from ear to ear. Apparently, remembering school
was causing me some kind of pleasure, which was very strange because I didn’t
really have any nice memories from that time in my life. I was a very average
student, I even had to do one year all over again. Making friends seemed like
the world’s hardest task and I also felt it was just futile because I kept
failing horribly when trying to get to know people, and kids are tough as nails
when they want to be.
I smiled though. I sat down on my
two-seat dinner table and turned on the TV in order to feel some company in the
apartment. It was one of those things most lonely people do in order not to
feel they are going completely insane. I left it on some animal channel, were
dogs seemed to be misbehaving and a man was trying to get them to be nicer. I
didn’t pay much attention to it, preferring to get back to my teenage years and
explain to myself why I had been smiling before. The answer was pretty simple.
As strange as it may be, I
realized I really liked myself back then. What I mean is that I love how I did
some things in that time. Sometimes we recall are youth and have second
thoughts about everything, but I had just realized I didn’t or at least not
about that whole segment in my life. I loved that I had the balls to just not
go to some of my PE classes, I’m glad I stood my ground and just pretended to
go to the bathroom and instead sitting down on the library in order to enjoy
myself in a more personal way.
Yes, the teachers caught a couple
of times and I got in trouble with my parents because of that but it was worth
it. Because I was building myself, I was building this man and everything could
have been different if I had forced myself to do the things I didn’t want to
do. Some people don’t understand that doing things that you don’t like is only
good when it makes sense and not when the only thinks that it causes is that
just start disappearing, you stop being yourself and instead you become this
copy, a bad one probably, of some else who’s not even that interesting to begin
with.
The dog show has ended and now
it’s a cat show. Every single piece of vegetable in the sauce is just right,
beautifully seasoned and with a taste that would make any Italian mother and
grandmother proud. It fills my heart and my soul that I had the good idea to
make something that delicious in a moment when I really needed to feel
comforted. It cannot be all about responsibilities in life; we have to learn
how to have fun and how to make ourselves feel good when we need to. That’s the
only way we can survive.
The only really bad thing about
those times and my life in general, is that I never really had what it took to
make friends or get to know people properly. Sure, I did call some people
friends during high school and also in college. Even now, I call some of the
people I work with “friends”. But I know the word is probably too big for our
relationships. I know that friendships are built of much stronger materials and
that they should at least last for a couple of years in order to be considered
real friendships.
So, in that sense, the amount of
friends I have is alarmingly low. And again, I put the blame on me. I lack what
it takes to be a really good friend and I have to confess I don’t really know
what it is that makes you that. Even in high school, I failed horribly at
trying to make connections with people. Sure, I had “friends” but once we
parted ways after college started, people disappeared in seconds because we
stopped having something in common. Only being in school made us feel similar
and much more is needed.
I think that is my only regret,
not trying hard enough to be a better friend or just trying to figure out what
people look for when they are looking for a friend. Well, for starters I guess
people don’t really “look for” friends, they just happen to get some as any
normal human being. Damn, I guess most people don’t put so much pressure on the
whole business to start with. But, again, if I didn’t think too much about
things, I just wouldn’t be me. And what would be the point then, if it’s not
the real me looking for those friends?
The past filled my soul and body.
I learned the recipe from my mom and I thanked her for that later that day. But
after eating, I sat there at the dinner table, thinking about my memories from
school. The people I had hated for being so easy going, the likely friendships
lost because of that.
I grabbed my cellphone and look
around some of the apps. I finally found the name I was looking for and started
texting with him. After a few minutes, I asked if he could come by my house or
if he wanted to have a drink. No idea if a friendship is possible there but at
least I’m willing to try.
