My ego, my heart


he tells me he doesn’t ever wanna be friends

seven years earlier I lose my virginity

the first time my heart stung

I only remember because of someone’s birthday on Facebook

I think about cosmic significance

I think about how important the universe must think I am

I wonder if people do things out of control

Or out of love.

Is he right?

I reckon there are two kinds of people

I choose the latter.

I let go

to the universe

to love.

My ego, my heart

So long celibacy

“Literally, you could just walk up to any guy and say ‘Do you wanna have sex?’ and he’d do it.”

He passes me a piece of chocolate, while the singer screams in the background.

“No! That can’t work! Really?” I ask.

“Yes. One hundred percent, it will work. Any random guy, any time.”

“Even at the gym? Like after I go for a run? I could just ask the first guy I see if he’d wanna do it in the racquetball court and he’d say yes?”


“I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna try it!” I shout right as the music unexpectedly stops.

“No you won’t,” he says.

“No I won’t. But maybe…no I won’t.”

“No you won’t.”

“But maybe?”

“I doubt it,” he says. “You’re just not a casual hookup person.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so.”

The next night, I try it out. Not exactly a random person per-say but he was right. It worked. And now I’m left with this question of what to do next, and I just don’t really feel like answering.

My ego, my heart

Cliche Writing

My writing may be cliche, but here’s what I have now:

  • A paid fellowship, with free room and board in Sacramento, California
  • $0 worth of student loans
  • Complete financial independence
  • Really amazing female friends and role models
  • Creative outlets and hobbies
  • Published works and research experience
  • A heart full of positivism and hope
  • An open future

I am allowed to feel and express my grief and still remember how privileged I am. I am allowed to be a cliche girl sad about a boy. I am allowed to express it however I want while I’m still young and able to get away with it.

Does my sassiness upset you?


My ego, my heart


He walks into the lobby, beard perfectly trimmed, hair intact, well-dressed. He comes up to me before everyone else and says, “Hey Natalia, how are you?” Flustered as always I awkwardly reply with the usual, “Good. And you?” And he smiles and says, “Really good thanks. A little nervous about the speech.” I respond back, “I’m sure you’ll do great.” And I really was so sure he would. He greets the others around us, smiling and genuine.

I have known him for three years now, and every time I see him, he always makes sure to say hello. My ex does the same thing; I am drawn to people like them because I feel as though they are safe to be around, that if other people like them then they must be good people. And people only say hi to people they actually like, right? (turns out this may actually just be me). But this boy is different from my ex when he walks into a space, his energy is warmer. He illuminates a space without even saying anything at all.

He goes up to the microphone and starts strong. In the midst of his speech, however, he pauses and breaks out of the lines he probably carefully composed, improvising from his heart instead. The whole lobby feels this shift and swoons. He talks about how his project has driven him to be a better person, that it gives him purpose, that anyone who gets involved is changed forever. I hold on to his every word, believing and feeling what he is saying. There is no doubt in my mind. And that’s when I think Wow, I kinda dig this guy. 

I am delighted at the thought and the possibility of spending a day holding his hand and talking about poetry and music and animals. I think about what it would be like to walk to the lake and jump in with him. I think about what it would be like to sit on his lap in the library while we both read our favorite books to each other.

When I catch myself in this fantasy I can’t help but smile because of the sheer impossibility of it. I can never have this person and this is the first time that this has really ever happened to me. He has a girlfriend, a long-term, long distance girlfriend he has been dating since high school. I would never even try and attempt to sabotage something like that (especially given that I’m moving across the country in two months).

But god, it feels good to have a crush again. Ever since I started “seriously” dating at the ripe age of 15, I have found myself adapting to boys who showed interest in me rather than the other way around. We would date and I would grow to love them (and I mean really really love them), but it is nice to imagine what it would be like if I had the choice first. If I decided that I was “sure” of someone before committing to them, if I maybe liked them first.

If there’s anything the last few months have taught me, it’s that I’m a die hard romantic. I want to go to new places, watch weird tv shows, eat spicy foods (if you know me, you know that I have a low tolerance for spicy food because I’m super super white so this is real dedication), and read books in bed with a really awesome and caring partner. And while I know that there are practical aspects of love (like even though falling in love may not be a choice, loving someone for a longer period of time definitely is), I don’t think it is something that should be quantifiable or always rational or perfect. I do not think there is a “right” way to love or to receive love.

And if one really cute guy got me to realize all of this in a matter of seconds just with his smile, then maybe that’s all I really need from him.

My ego, my heart

Moving on from him to me

I wrote a lot of good angry poems, frustrated poems, destructive poems, but never anything sweet and lovely. I thought something was wrong with me for a while, but the truth is he’s just not the kind of guy you can write love poems about. He is stagnant in time, takes pride that he is the same person he was when he graduated high school (what feels like a million years ago to me). He has neither evolved nor changed. He has never endured or had to fight for what he loved. He has never let strong emotions take him over. He has never shone.

Everything about him and the things he does is superficial. It works for him, it keeps him safe, it allows him to say things like, “I don’t feel things like that. I don’t let my emotions do that.” But boys like that don’t get beautiful words written about them, and maybe they don’t care anyway. Where is the social capital in that? How does that affect their image?

They are safe with their mediocre loves, their shallow connections. They don’t see the value in intertwining with another person, in knowing their soul, in feeling their essence.

And now I have a better idea of what to look for. And now I know that my next love will be spectacular, because I was always the one that had the fire, the drive, the romanticism. He wanted me to be practical, to think like him, but I am not destined for mediocrity, for just moving step by step, for doing things the “right” way. I am destined for great things; I always have been.

My ego, my heart

Thanks Adele

Have you ever listened to “Not Like the Movies” by Katy Perry?  Adele, the master of breakup art, puts it on her list of favorite breakup songs. All my feelings the past year suddenly seemed a little more clear after I heard it.

I’ve moved on. I have been moving on from him for a long time.

He did indeed change me: I outgrew him.