Archive for April, 2011

Brazilian Girl – Part III


I’m typing from my small, New York apartment once again. Brazil had it’s ups and downs this time around. Last year I was there as a man with a mission for bedding as many brown skinned portuguese-speaking women as I could. This year I was there to visit a girl that I had fallen in lust for who I’d met in Central Park just 3 short months earlier.

( Read Part IIRead Part I )

My trip to visit Cyndy was preempted by agoniziing Skype calls nearly every night, for an hour or more, painfully enduring through the drama of a woman who isn’t getting what she wants and a man (myself) not communicating effectively. It was tough to take, and the only reason I did so was because I had my plane tickets booked. We were bickering over me not telling her ahead of time that we wouldn’t talk, and such. I couldn’t stand the “big brother is watching” feeling that was creeping into what was supposed to be an enjoyable relationsihp.

So I left New York, left my family and friends behind, and took to the skies. I had a slightly sinking feeling that if this didn’t go well it might be a big mistake, seeing as I planned to be gone for ten weeks total. I didn’t have the same solo-traveler spirit that I had the year before. I wanted to hang out with Cyndy, see the beaches, travel with her, and just have an awesome time, period.

The results were mixed. We had a great first few weeks; everything was new and beautiful and exciting. I was speaking portuguese with her neighbors, her mother, her cousins, and I was eating acai and coconut water again. I was pretty jazzed about being back in Brazil. But drama was slowly creeping. I wasn’t being ‘romantic’ enough. I was spending too much time on my laptop. I was being selfish. Now granted, some of this was deserved, but I felt she should have been a bit more welcoming and glad I hauled ass over a thousand miles to be with her.

The real near-crumbling point came when we were discussing New York and she mentioned a fiancee visa. I told her that would be an easy solution if I was ready to be married, which I’m not. This became a stressful issue of – ‘Why don’t you love me enough to consider marrying me? You just want to pump and dump.’ (She didn’t actually use pump and dump, I just like the term.)

I continued feeling the pressure from her mother, from her cousins, from her neighbors, from her friends, basically from everyone. It’s a cultural difference. I started feeling like a black sheep. Like I’d made a mistake, and now everyone thought that I was the gringo prince charming coming to Brazil to sweep her away and marry her, and live happily forever in my white castle in the USA. Of course this wasn’t anywhere near the truth of the matter, and I started feeling trapped and uncomfortable about the situation I’d gotten myself into. But did these panicky feelings signify that the relationship should end? I was at odds with myself, and on-and-off for the last 6 weeks, I battled these feelings and deflected constant questions about our future together with answers like ‘We’ll see what happens.’

Well, fast forward to present time. We still keep in touch over Skype, though it’s more manageable this time around, largely due to my smart phone that I have now. I can just e-mail her or text her on the fly now. Now what we discuss is the possibility of her moving to New York and living together. At first, I did not feel comfortable with this idea. I can just imagine her living with me in my tiny apartment without a social circle, without a job, without anything really, but me, and that is a horrifying nightmare of a situation. I know we wouldn’t work out. The other possibility is that she somehow gets into school here or can manage to find herself a job like she had before, which would leave us evenings and weekends. That would be fine with me, as long as I could still ditch her when I needed to hang out with my friends.

The other issue is that if she moves here, she has either a 6 month, 1 year, or 2 year window of time in the USA. Meaning, if I am not ready to get married before those points in time, we’re cooked. And that’s my biggest issue right now. I don’t feel ready to be married. I’m not sure I feel ready to have one-vagina-itis. I’m still reasonably young and living in New York f’n City. I don’t have my life in order yet, and I don’t know if I’m ready to take on such a responsibility of taking a girl away from her mother and her social circle in Brazil.

It’s no fun feeling so in-limbo like I am right now. There’s a chance that her visa gets denied when she applies in a couple of months. There’s a chance she takes a job on a ship and I never see her for another year or so. There’s a chance she moves in with me and we break up.

Bottom line though is at this point I’m trying not to get myself too crazy over the whole thing, and I’m still going out enjoying the company of my friends. We’ll see what happens.