The bittersweet “I told you so” moment

“I told you so” is never a good thing. You knew, deep down, that things were going to go to hell. You had no proof, not really, but you knew. You could see it coming. So you voiced your opinion, loudly. And, of course, you were ignored. No one wants a know-it-all. No one wants advice. Not really. Not unless that advice reaffirms what they wanted to do in the first place.

But hey, you thought, it’s my job to at least state the obvious. What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t? So you go right ahead and say it. “THIS HAS TRAINWRECK WRITTEN ALL OVER IT.” or “This can ONLY end badly”. It was your duty. You still believe friends are there to do more than go to lunch together every two weeks or discuss things like nail polish and how that new haircut would look on me. You’re quite sure friendship is meant to be something more. So, you say it.

Your friends don’t agree. In fact, your friends may push you away. It’s okay, you tell yourself. You did what you had to do. You’re not about to compromise who you are just to keep a friend. If they don’t like you the way you are, so be it. It’s best to find out sooner, rather than later.

And, then …it comes. Whatever you warned your friend about actually happens. There is a big (metaphorical) crash. Few survivors. Lots and lots of tears.  

Now, there are two options here. Either your friend comes back to you crying, miserable, asking for forgiveness because, well, you did warn them, and now they’re heartbroken, and so on, in which case, you can’t really bring out the “I told you so”. It would be too cruel. You don’t want to rub salt on the wound, and…well, being right does you no good. You didn’t want to be right; you wanted to AVOID this situation.

Or, of course, your friend….well, that person who was once your friend …never comes back. You hear about what happened from someone else. You feel a little bad, because, YOU DID WARN THEM, but you never get a chance to say it in person. You’re not friends anymore, you see. Just because you were right, and you were brave enough to actually …eh, say it. 

“I told you so” is just one of those phrases writers use. One of those that you only get to use when it doesn’t count, when your sister ate too much candy and then feels sick and, of course, you have to make fun of her. Or when you wear very high heels and then your feet are killing you at the end of the night and your boyfriend is looking at you like, well, you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?

It’s one of those things you never really get to say. Not when it counts. It stays, hidden, inside you, even though you really, really wanted to bring it out. So, you write about it. Sing about it. Blog about it. That’s just the way it is. 

You never really get to say it. Except here: 

“I TOLD YOU SO.”

Feliz día, brujitas

Hay brujas, brujitas, brujildas. Hay algunas brujas buenas, como Glenda, en el Mago de Oz, la que todas queríamos ser. Hay brujas “malas” (y algunas misunderstood). Hay brujas que para que te cuento, son como para salir corriendo. No tienen verruga, ni escoba (bueno, al menos, si la tienen, está BIEN, pero BIEN escondida), pero dan miedo. Que te digo miedo. Hacen brujerías. Ya saben el tipo. De esas que te encuentras en la vida real, todos los días de la vida. (No mencionaré nombres, pero do me a favor, cerremos todos los ojos e imaginémonos a una. You can do it. Come oooon. I know you want to)

Pero, esas no importan. Esas son brujas hoy, claro, pero seguirán siendo brujas mañana. Así que no gastaré más espacio en ellas. No, hoy estoy aquí para hablar del otro tipo de brujas. ­­­Esas que conoces en la escuela, cuando estas chiquita. Las que comparten contigo clases, galletas de sándwich, soda de fresa y pastillas de limón.

Esas que pasan un mes contigo en el servicio social. Y esas que ni la distancia te hace olvidar.

Las que te acompañan cuando pasas a otra etapa de tu vida. Las que vas encontrando en el camino. Las que nunca se van. Las que te encuentras en otros países. Las que se quedan no importa donde estés. Las que comparten contigo lágrimas, decepciones, felicidad, amor, libros, películas.

Las que llevas contigo siempre, en el corazón.

Hoy es el día de las brujas. Pero no de todas. No de aquellas (porque hay muchas), que se desviven por escupir veneno. N­­­­o de las que viven de la envidia y del arruinarle la vida a otras mujeres. No, hoy es el día de esas brujas que comparten pastillas, sonrisas, libros, almuerzos, paseos. Aquellas que, un día, se sientan por la noche a contemplar un canal en Venecia, con una cerveza en la mano y un pedazo de pizza y pueden pasarse horas discutiendo la vida

Esas que, con un almuerzo, una jarra de sangría y uno que otro libro, arreglan una semana. 

Las que pueden quedarse cinco días seguidos en un sofá comiendo porquerías y viendo películas y pasar la mejor semana de sus vidas. Esas que se vuelven tu familia. 

Feliz día a esas brujas, mis amigas. ¡Que gusto que, en un día como hoy, seamos el club de las brujas! Como las quiero.