Diary of a dying man

The broken heart

When I arrived in Valle de la Pascua, I took a bus to Guarico, arriving a few hours later. I had an unpleasant feeling, an uncomfortable sensation that I could not explain, almost as if I was anticipating something that was not going to go well... but I decided to ignore it, just hoping that everything was nothing more than an alarmist idea. I stayed in room 509 at the Hotel San Marco. I took a shower, tried to sleep for an hour or so, calculating the time in which, as far as I knew, Genesis would arrive home from the university to talk to her alone, but I couldn't fall asleep, so I ate something light and left the hotel, heading for Genesis' house. On the way I stopped and bought her a bouquet of roses, with the intention of surprising her... however, I was the one who was surprised.

When I got to the street where his house was, I stopped at a corner when I saw a rather luxurious car enter that street, perhaps much more than usual in that part of Venezuela. A guy of about 30 something, with an impeccable suit, got out of the car and approached the other door to open the door for his companion... then my blood froze... from the passenger seat, my girlfriend got out.... Genesis... smiling like a quinceañera, dressed in a black dress with a flowered blouse that I had given her for her birthday... The guy grabbed her around the waist and kissed her, almost lifting her off the floor. I was in one piece in the same place, as if Mike Tyson had given me a tremendous forehand in the face.... Everything was spinning around me, and I couldn't speak or move.

I suppose that a wounded man would have launched an attack and would have beaten the guy to a pulp, starting a fight with the enemy, claiming her for his betrayal... however I could not... I could not move, I could not even think clearly. I stood there for almost 10 minutes, even after Genesis went into her house and the guy left. I think she got to see me as she quickly went into her house and never came out again. I was in shock and headed to her house, I needed to get answers, I deserved to get answers... I knocked on the door and nothing... I knocked again and nothing... I tried a third time... and this time her mother came out, throwing water from a pitcher in my face and loudly demanding that I leave her daughter alone, spitting at me that she wouldn't come out because she had nothing to talk to me about. She never let me speak, nor did she give me time to speak... I just understood that I had to leave.

I started to walk without direction for a while, away from her house. I wanted to cry, but the tears would not come... I only felt a huge emptiness in my chest, in the place where she had been, only a bleeding wound remained... about 20 or 25 minutes would have passed, until a familiar voice gave me the scope. As I turned around and saw who it was, I ran into Maria Gabriela, sister of Genesis who until then had viscerally detested me. I didn't expect to see her (being completely honest) I thought she was there to mock me. However she looked at me almost as if regretting what she was going to do and handed me a marriage license, while saying, "Even you don't deserve this after coming all this way," then turned back the way she had come. I watched her leave and felt the marriage license get heavier in my hand. My fingers were trembling, I don't know if from anger or sadness, and I turned it over to see the name.... On it, it said the name of who I thought was my girlfriend, with a guy I didn't know. I guess the guy in the car

I felt the same blow I had felt before, apparently Tyson was not happy and had returned to give me the second blow and throw me to the canvas. The impact of the invitation, setting the date and time for the civil and religious marriage for two days later, was devastating. I walked without realizing it to my hotel.... I don't remember if I talked to anyone or not, but I do remember that the receptionist and one of the guys helping with the luggage asked me if I was okay. I guess my "I just got shit on" face said it all... those days I did not leave my room, I wanted to break everything, I wanted to scream, cry, get indignant, my logic told me to leave that place and never come back to Venezuela again, while what was left of my heart, demanded me to make one last effort.

I didn't leave the room for a day and a half, I didn't even ask for food. I just slept and paced around the room without being able to think about the fact that I had to talk to Genesis. On the day of the wedding, I shaved and dressed in a black jean and a white shirt that I really liked, as well as grooming myself as best I could. I ate a light breakfast and embarked on my way to the church where Genesis was getting married, I knew that if I showed up at the civil wedding, I could be legally arrested because I would be breaking into a municipal place... but in a church things changed. I hid in a confessional because Genesis and her family had not yet arrived. I saw the guy who was marrying my girlfriend and I had to restrain myself not to go out and beat him up, I even had time to confess to a priest who thought I was just another parishioner waiting for confession... everything served to make time for a dramatic entrance, typical of a soap opera, but it was so real, that every face, every reaction, every voice, every sound and every moment in my memory is engraved in my mind.

I waited for the moment when the priest asked if anyone objected and with all the strength that my shattered pride gave me I shouted: "I object"... the expression of bewilderment of the guy was worth every penny and every second. I was approaching the couple while some looked at me puzzled and Genesis' family was between throwing themselves on me to kill me or avoid the scandal in the best way. When I was close to them, the guy asked me who I was and Genesis replied, "He's nobody, don't mind him can we take him out so the ceremony can continue?" That made my blood boil and staring at her I shouted, "Why don't you tell him the truth!!! Why don't you tell him that I am your boyfriend and that we had plans to get married before you came to Venezuela? Why don't you tell him who gave you the dress you went out with 2 days ago? Why don't you tell him that you simply did as if I didn't exist without even giving me an explanation?"

My rage and my pain came hand in hand, my face was matching what I felt and my voice became more powerful... but his answer silenced all my questioning in one stroke, as if it were the blade of a guillotine cutting a neck: "What did you want? That I should marry you? Do you think I could live with a starving actor like you? You will never be even half the man I deserve! Please, get this Peruvian out of our wedding!"... At that moment... Tyson came back for the third punch determined to knock me out... and boy did he hit me... I was totally disoriented, Genesis' voice echoing in my head, as two guys, I don't know who they were grabbed me by the arms and dragged me out of the church. As they pulled me out, one of them threw me down the front steps and I rolled into the street, hitting the steps and crashing into a parked car. A lady passing by on the street was shocked to see me on the floor and helped me to get up, I don't remember her face and I'm sorry I don't, I only remember she asked me: "Chamo, are you okay?" to which I responded with a dry "No".

I started to walk aimlessly, until I arrived at Laguna el Pueblo, I don't know at what point in the road, I bought two bottles of rum, frankly I don't remember... but I do know that I sat on the shore and started to drink without stopping... I wanted to drown all the voices that resounded in my head, I wanted to disappear that emptiness in my chest and I thought my mind was a blackboard while alcohol was the eraser that would disappear everything... but I was wrong. The more I got drunk, the more I thought about Genesis, until I couldn't contain myself and started crying. I felt the rage overflowing in my chest and felt the burning of the wounds that were now in the place where she had been..... I felt humiliated, shattered, beaten, beaten to a pulp... and I resolved that it was not worth continuing. I broke one of the bottles I had already emptied and opened my wrists as deeply as I could, I didn't care that there were people watching me (it was about I think 7 o'clock at night) I just did it... then I tried to enter the water so there would be no return, but someone grabbed me by the torso. I struggled to get free and when I elbowed someone, I managed to enter the water that was turning reddish as my blood was spurting from my arms... my strength was going with each drop until I lost consciousness.

The next thing I remember was waking up in Israel Ranuarez Balza Hospital, my wrists stitched, my belongings on the table next to me and a bag of blood. I didn't want to ask any more questions...the tears ran from my face again and I silently ate my bitterness. I had to deal with questions from a kind nurse whose name I did not memorize, who all the time seemed to sympathize with me and treated me very warmly. When I was discharged, I went back to the hotel and paid the fine I had accrued for leaving the room as it was not her responsibility for what had happened. I took what was left of my luggage and returned to Lima, knowing that something inside me had died.

At home, my family didn't ask any questions, although they did notice the change in my look. The only one who more or less asked something was my first cousin, who told me: "Something is missing... I mean you are you, but you are no longer the Oscar I know. You look more like a dead man than a live one", after that we drifted apart and didn't speak to each other again for 3 years. In the meantime, I tried to go back to my normal life and I half succeeded... I finished my career and got my degree, however I couldn't feel happy... I was proud of myself, yes... but I didn't feel any happiness at all. Then came that call...

CONTINUES IN THE NEXT CHAPTER