I kind of feel stupid for my last post. Of course it won’t happen ever again. I don’t know why I kept thinking the possibility was still there. I don’t think I know him anymore. Over that month he went from big youngster to a real twentysomething adult. He’s not the guy I knew anymore. That first last hug was still him, but after that the version I knew disappeared. I hope he finds balance in between, I hope he doesn’t just lose himself in the change. Deep down I don’t think he will. Anyhow. Here’s for change.

Bye, cute sunrise guy. You were nice dating to. Let’s see if I meet you in the future all over again. Maybe I’ll like your new version as a friend. Maybe I won’t and I’ll dig you down. Any way or another, thanks for these years.

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I do think you will never loose the feeling like home to me. It hurts so much to think I’ll never get to your version of my home back. But I also know, you better never come back to try to love me again. As Alex learnt with Izzie, you’ve showed me that I deserve that much better. SO-MUCH-BETTER. I also think one gets a quorum of times a guy gets to break one’s heart. You’ve definitely filled yours. So please, even if you only do it for respect to the stuff I’ve had to put up with this last five years, don’t ever play with me again. You’ve made clear how little you care to have me in your life. Don’t think you can make that unclear to me ever in the future. The fuckery has been made. I wish to believe I’m not so stupid to go through you again. Even if my idiotic heart thinks the risk cost was definitely worth, my feelings can’t go through you breaking me again. I don’t think I will ever deserve to go through the punch in the heart by the person I’ve loved the most a third time. I expected so much more of you, dude. So much more. The least, some caring. I guess one just can’t trust on care, can she.

On reading myself back.

Today I found a journal I used July 2014 as a diary. I kind of wrote myself letters and wrote a quote and stuff. And even though things have changed, I find it so amazing to come back to myself. Seriously awesome. I am a cool writer sometimes. I wish to still write to myself every once in a while.

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NOTE TO SELF: NUNCA jamás en tu vida vuelvas con P. Le importas una puta mierda y lo ha dejado todo lo claro que lo podía dejar. NUNCA JAMÁS CAMILA, NUNCA JAMÁS.

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On breakup #2 (with the same guy)

Yeah, you hear right. Over whatsapp. Last breakup was Nov 2013. Jeez. So. It hurts LIKE HELL. Like seriously. My feelings. My 5-years-long feelings. But I’m pretty sure it’s over for good. Which HUGELY sucks. Because it was fun. And it was pretty rad. And I loved spending time w him. And kissing him. And sex. And stuff. BUT ANYHOW. As I was saying. Pretty sure it’s over for good. My heart is so not ready for that. Like seriously I have no clue how I’m going to get over it. Seriously. 100% no clue. And if only I could have painless version, you know? [EDIT: Definitely doesn’t suck that it’s over. Made zero fucking sense. He feels nothing and cares even less. So my heart is perfectly fine(despite the hurting, that has seen itself diminished after realizing that).]

BUT.

My self-care was DYING for love and attention. Seriously. I can’t say that enough. I’ve never been very good at self care. I’m prone to depression-ish episodes and I’m full of fear and insecurities and shit. So let’s say I’ve never really had a good tranquile relationship with myself. However I definitely need to change that, basically, ASAP. I’m turning 20 (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) in like less than a year and that’s like an involuntary HUGE deal for me. So I’m going to try and make this processing as joyous as I possibly can, respecting the ebbs and the flows of course but yep. I need to explore. But yeah. J-O-Y. And most probably, a bit further on, start doing stupid things I’ve never done. But for the moment hellooooooo me, let’s try to be as full of joy as possible, kay?

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as days go by, I keep coming back to the same conclusion: photographs are aaaall about the wait, the breathing, the avid, the story, the feeling and the light. and there’s definitely no space for rushes or just for smiley posed photography. nooooope.

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On fear.

Here’s an honest post. I don’t think I had ever been this aware of how full of fear I am as I am right now. I am a human FULL of fear. And it sucks. It does. It really does, because I really wasn’t this aware before. And now I just keep seeing my fear in my thoughts over and over. I’m afraid to get myself out there and showing my work (even if I try to do it anyways). I’m afraid to offer photographic sessions, even though I know I’m a great storyteller. I’m afraid while actually thinking about a session itself. I’m afraid about really being capable, about being mediocre, about getting blocked. But not only about that. I’m afraid to talk honestly with close people. I’m afraid of sending letters I’ve wrote from the inside to one that was once my best confident. I’m afraid to give my true opinion often, because people don’t want to hear it. I’m afraid of raising my voice and letting truths out. I’m afraid of wearing clothes that could make me, well, visible; any kind of clothes that are out of my comfort, plain ones. I’m afraid of getting outside of emails, of facing face-to-face situations, of talking on the phone. I’m afraid in meetings, so I often act shy and that makes me seem like a boring, not prepared person. I’m afraid of looking for a side job even if I need the job because it will involve asking and human interaction. I’m afraid of asking for help. I’m afraid of being honest. I’m afraid of creating opportunities for myself because of what it involves. I’m afraid of being weak, or worse, of looking weak. I’m actually afraid of publishing this post. BUT.

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EDIT: I just keep running into more fear wisdom:

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(side note: I should probably take this course)