October 20, 2015

I woke up on time and sat with Juan after our connecting train. He had gotten off work early on Friday and completely forgot. We exchanged phone numbers so it won’t be a problem again. It was good to talk to him again.

I had a really good day at school. It was the kind of day that made my lips smile and eyes sparkle on my walk from school to the train station. The earlier train was running late and I managed to get to the connecting station earlier than I thought I would. I made the conscious decision to skip the first connecting train so I could get on the train with Juan. I wondered at my decision, but decided not to over-analyze it too much. He’s my friend and I haven’t had a chance to hang out with him in almost a week.

When we sat down, he managed to find a set of three empty seats. He went all the way on the inside and I sat on the outside, keeping a seat between us. He was trying to show me a video about repairing a hot water heater. I had no interest in the video. It was in Spanish and I couldn’t hear it. He seemed to have great interest in showing it to me, however, so I leaned over and watched. After a few minutes, he invited me to sit in the empty seat between us. I complied. When the video was there, I stayed there. We talked some more. He complained that he thinks too much and it gives him a headache. I told him I think too much too. I think that’s what I like most about hanging out with him. It’s not just learning Spanish, but it’s the fact that he speaks in ideas rather than things. He asked what I think about. I told him I think about all the things that I have to get done. I tried to say them all in Spanish: the work I have to do, how I have more things to do than time, etc. I mentioned needing to clean my apartment, but I used the wrong word. I used the word llavar which apparently means to bathe (to clean myself) rather than limpio which means to clean inanimate objects. He asked in Spanish if he could come over and help. Then I realized that I was using the wrong word and that he was flirting with me.

I thought “why not”? I had already told him that his being married prevented me from doing anything with him. He said he only had one woman, his wife. He asked if I had any men between now and when my husband and I split up. I told him I had three boyfriends. I couldn’t interpret the look on his face, but it seemed surprised and incredulous, so I qualified it by saying I didn’t have them at the same time. He asked if I wanted a man. I said I wanted one, but I didn’t need one. Then he started with the heavy duty flirting by telling me that he was a man and he needed a woman. I told him he has a wife. It went on from there. I think I blushed throughout the entire conversation. I wonder what he thought about that. I imagine darker skinned women from his country blush, but it probably looks different than the brilliant red that I imagined my face was. He said his wife was returning to the country they came from for a month and asked if I wanted to come over to his house and I said sure, but reiterated the fact that we were friends. He spent a lot of the rest of the ride trying to convince me. Ugh, I really wanted to, but my moral compass wouldn’t allow it.


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