Ximena Restrepo

Jaime

I've had you on my mind a lot. 

 I'm going through this horrible break up and my colombian-ness, and all these immigration things are coming up for me. Even though I live in Medellin by choice, I feel stuck here as all my friends leave, my boyfriend and I break up from across the world, and I'm still here, my day still looks the same.

I don't know why, but your name keeps coming up in my head. We've never met. I don't know your favorite color or your second apellido.

Part of me thinks maybe I should just sign up for school and go live in the States, that it would solve my problems. Or that maybe my passport means I'm not supposed to succeed in life, that I'm less than, that I'm young, that I'm naïve. 

Another part says that I'm exactly where I should be, that this is where I thrive, that I'm so lucky, that it's just a break up. But it's not. This man had a ring with my name on it (so to speak). He planned a life for us. He just forgot to tell me about it until I couldn't take long distance anymore.

Perhaps I should stop dating foreign men, men whose freedom and privilege make me feel like a charity case. They don't feel foreign. They're the ones I connect to, who my identity say "he's like you." Maybe I need men who can move away with me, men who want me for me. Men who want me. Men who want for me.

I am still very much in love with this person, even though he didn't choose me when the time was right. I still wish things would just happen for us. While we spoke on the phone and he offered me everything, I had yes on the tip of my tongue, my eye on my suitcase, my mind on my bank account. 

Can I leave tomorrow? I thought.

If I book a flight, can I leave tomorrow?

No.

I need a visa. Will I get a visa? I don't know. I've asked for two this year to go see this man. Will Taiwan take me back as eagerly as David will?

Deff No.

You reached out to me- a stranger- in a moment of need, months ago, a moment of fear and uncertainty over your immigration status, concerned over whether to return to Medellin or stay put and I was in Taiwan then.

I figured I'd do the same.  Hello stranger.

I'm concerned over my status. I'm scared about what this all means. I'm afraid about what it says about me, the fact that it reaffirms my instagram handle : Miss Havisham, a Dickens' enigma of love undone, forever in a wedding dress alone.

I feel unwanted and it hurts me. I feel like I don't know what's next. Worst of all, I know it was all my choice. Why does my mind bring up your face? 

Your friend in uncertainty,

Miss Havisham