Un hombre alto, indio, de ojos negros

I believe in the wisdom inherited from my abuelas. I believe in santería, Belié Belcan who's San Miguel, his wife Anaisa, ruler of women, passion and love. I believe in Yemayá, ruler of the sea, another compassionate lover of women. 

I believe in the cosmic forces that keep me bound to this universe. I believe in the little things like making a wish on every 11:11 I can lay my eyes on. I believe in magic and in making wishes on shouting stars. Even after being in love so many fucking times, I don't believe in true love, mostly because I do not know how true love is supposed to feel like, once it finally arrives to my life. In case it ever does. 

 I remember the first time a woman tried to predict my future, ''la' baraja''' they call it. Among all the things the woman claimed to see, she mentioned ''a tall light skinned man, indio'' / ''un hombre claro alto y delgado'' who was supposed to be the love of my life, a wealthy man who would make me his wife (LOL!). Almost ten years after that, I went back again, to see my future, and at this point I was already cursing the fact that there were no black queer women in this business, because to be honest, I was getting tired of straight people knowing about my business. This time, this one says: ''that white, fat woman with big boobs who undresses you with her eyes, she's not loyal, but she desires you.''

It would have been easier to know which one she was referring to, but I guess these are the type of dilemmas slutty women like me are bound to deal with. After all, I had a penchant for white, thick women with short hair. Yet, amid these revelations, this woman also mentioned the tall, light skinned man in my future. Mind you that by this time, I'm as gay as they come with absolutely no sight of dick in a good 100 miles away. 

Last month, I went one last time. This woman had never seen me in my life, but she claimed to have seen things I had never said to anyone. She said that, that new man (by this time, I've gotten used to substitute the word man for wo-man), would be the love of my life and not to worry because it will all be good. To take my time and dive in this love. Sadly, when people have been fucked up over and over again, its kinda hard to go on a dive as risky as the one she was suggesting me. 

I don't know how to love anymore. I mean, I do, I just don't believe it can be anything that resembles true love. I know of settling, I know of the fear of being lonely, I know of feeling so loved, by  the wrong people, that you don't even want to go away; but, I don't know of true love. Eleven years after the first premonition, still no sight of the tall, light skinned man. I hope he never shows up. I wouldn't know what to do with him.