Back when I was younger, I often thought how cool it would be if I could just take a peek at my life in 15/20 years time. What would I see? Would I have changed much or not at all? Would I have a girlfriend, would I be married, would I have any kids?

Going forward 15/20 years in time, 16 year old me would be pretty fucking surprised if he would have a sneak peek at our life today.

Let’s say he would inhabit my body at this very moment: he’d see he was on his way to some place. Business or pleasure? He’d know its pleasure, the vibe doesn’t let you guess wrong.

He’d look over and see a woman. I say woman but she still keeps her girlish ways. She turns her face towards us. “Oh, shit, after all these years?!”, he would probably think. Well, kind of.

She has this olive shade kind of skin. Not a brunette but not really a pale skin either. She wears blond like a hand wears a glove: a tight fit. She smiles at me, at us. The phone in her hand seems a extension of her, that’s how much she keeps staring at it.

“What you listening to right now?” She asks. Present time-me would say the truth but 16 year old me is too embarrassed to say that, right now, there is a sort of pop-ish sound blasting in my earphones. “Deftones”, my current body tenant replies. Trying to be cool, are we?

“Woah, throwback bro!” She replies. My 16 year old self is taken aback. “Bro? Did she “bro-d” me just now?!”. That’s right, let that sink in.

My hands feel like a foreign object: were they always this big?, 16 year old me wonders. There is also a ring. “Married?” Yes, I’m married. Shock, I know.

He takes a peak at her hands: a few rings but none looks like a wedding ring. Yeah, dodged that bullet, buddy.

Teenage-me feels a bit disappointed by my wearing Levi’s and not Carhartt’s. “So tight!”. No, my young and baggy pants wearing self. Comfort and durability at this age.

I inadvertently take my hands to my face, as if Ive lost my sight and am trying to guess who I am. Weird, but I’ll let slide. My young self is perplexed. “No piercings?” He goes for the earlobes. “No earrings too?” Well, we outgrew that phase. “Damn it, i always thought I’d have my piercings forever.” That thought didn’t age well.

I feel my upper body. I flex my arm. “Am I a gym rat now?” We are getting back to it, but yes, we sort of are.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection on the window. “Shit, shit! Is my beard gray? Am I that old?” We’re older, sure. Count your blessings, you’re aging as you should. Maybe just cherish your hairline while you can.

I don’t know if 16 year old me would like me right now. I don’t remember what I envisioned for me then but all in all, we got it good.

Love and be loved, young self. And take your time.

Santiago Roque

It’s been three years.

I wonder if in whatever realm you may find yourself do you think about me? Do I hold a special place within you?
I miss you.
Just like a flower missing the sun, this existence is lacking in many ways.

It’s been three years.
I wonder, am I the one that hurts the most or is anyone else just better at hiding it?
Do you miss me?

It’s been three years.
I wish I could see you just once more and tell you that I love you.
That I apologize for never being the best version of myself.
Would you love me just the same?

It’s been three years.
There is nothing better than dreaming about you.
It is also the saddest feeling waking up after.
There is this hole in my chest that I can’t seem to make whole again.

It’s been three years.
And it feels like it was only yesterday.

I ache for you.
I miss you.

Who am I? Someone that’s afraid to let go.

I love you.


Yesterday I died but came alive today. Thankfully. I got drunk off my mind, unexpectedly. I got home about 5-ish pretty cheerful. I had a family event of some sorts and drank the night away. I also met my father’s new girlfriend (ladyfriend, he insists) which was meh. I have no opinion although she tried to charm her way to me. She told me I looked a lot like my father, I replied that was because she’d never met my mother. Obviously, given the circumstances.

It was supposed to be just dinner and maybe a glass or so. I hadn’t seen my brother for a week, we hadn’t talked either so as I was about to leave he asked me to stick around. I said I wasn’t feeling it but then my wife told me that he might want to talk about something so I should consider staying a bit longer. I did. Turns out he just needed a drinking buddy. And drinking we did!

We drank a bit there but then just before things got blurry, we chose to go somewhere else. Sober-me usually says more inappropriate things than appropriate things. Drunk-me is just savage and unapologetic. I didn’t want to share the same space with my father and his new friend (?) just in case I couldn’t shut up. My brother as well so we left.

Also, drunk-me doesn’t send the best texts either. So, I just decided not to text. At all. Again, I say shit that sets out a very awkward atmosphere when drunk (mostly when drunk but sober-me is pretty good at it too) so, in order to save face the next day, I laid the phone aside and just enjoyed the flow of alcohol. I did warn my texts recipient before, I hate being the type of person that just ignores someone else by not replying. Ironically, I was ignored. Not a first a time either, so I’m getting used to it.

But waking up today was a bitch. I remember everything otherwise I would have thought someone had beat the shit out of me. No bruises though. I feel like my man Jesus, it takes me a full three days to show myself again. I’m still trying to learn that whole “turning water into wine” party trick. That would be mighty fine. And cheaper too.

Anyway, liquids are my best friends right now. Alcohol-free, however. I had my fair share yesterday.

Santiago Roque

Don’t run away from me ever
Is all I ask
Hard to find and impossible to resist
A sweet clumsiness and tender laugh
You keep me at bay
Afraid to allow for even a tinge of yourself to be shared
Promise that you will never hurt me
That the poison won’t find its victim
Only to fear the day that I become
Too much to handle or too little to care
Fear of love in this lust
Paving the way for regret and remorse
And the realization of feeling unwanted
The dark hour that no one should crave.

Santiago Roque

If only.

She asked me if it was sincere. If what I said was truthful. I lied and said yes. This is what I want, I lied again. She replayed our time back to me like I wasn’t aware of any of it. As if I wasn’t a key part of the complete mess that was happening to us. How I used to gently touch her arm or her lower back when we were nothing but acquaintances. My sublime way of looking straight at her, targeting her and as soon as our eyes met, a small grin just to pull her a little bit more. She wondered if this approach worked with everyone or was just with her. That first kiss. Did I know how long she wanted that first kiss? Was I aware of her state everytime we met casually? I couldn’t really answer. I was never one the focus on anyone else but me. How long did I want that kiss? Forever! How did I feel every time we met? It was like any moment that we weren’t in each other’s arms, that we weren’t whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, was a complete waste of time. That was the truth but I wasn’t able to say it. I just looked at her and kept silent. She wasn’t happy but she wasn’t sad either. She looked like she was expecting this somehow. “I thought I was the one that was going to ruin you, but you outplayed me. It was always going to be like this,” she told me. She was wrong. She had ruined me. I wasn’t myself anymore. She had given me a glimpse of love, of affection and it was just too much for me to handle. Unattached was my way of life, a way to never lose. But she had ruined it for me. She slowly crept into my core, stuck herself deep and gradually started to make me come alive. And it was too much.

“This is over. I am being sincere. I am sorry but I just don’t feel the same.”

If only you knew. If only I could just say everything that I was holding back. If only…

Santiago Roque

Day 33.

He’s sitting across from me. If we were to have a place, this would be it. I’ve lost count how many times we’ve met here. I wonder, is this where he fell in love with me? I can’t recall ever being here without him in the picture. I mean, I’ve been here many times by myself but I don’t really know anymore what it is coming here without him. I guess he’s mad at something. He’s not his usual silly self. We say hi awkwardly but then again, is it ever not awkward? In all honesty, it pains me to see him like this but then it actually kind of amuses me. Don’t get me wrong, I take no joy in seeing him like this but I guess it’s sort of liberating seeing him struggle too. We try small talk but it doesn’t cut it. Not today. He asks me point blank, ”what now?” I have no idea. Silence.

Most times, he does the talking and I just sort of reply as the conversation flows but today he doesn’t seem quite himself. Are we breaking up? Can we break up? He did text me saying that maybe distance would be a good thing. The idiot! I am mad at him for that.

I have this playful thing that I do where I just stare at something and then as our eyes cross each others, I’ll just go ”yes?” waiting for him to say something. That usually gets the conversation flowing but not this time.

Finally, he starts talking. I say talking but I’m being too optimistic. He mumbles. He stops. No, he continues. It looks like he lost the ability to phrase things. Someone woke up on the retarded side of the bed today! He’s kinda cute though. Like, hella cute!

I hate that I like him. More than he deserves. I think I could just go back to what we were if he wanted. Maybe we will. He tells me I should be more selfish in some ways. Well, I don’t have it in me! I’m starting to dislike him just because.

As the food arrives, he looks over and tells me I’m being too ambitious if I think I can finish this plate. As if?! I’ll have you know I’ve eaten this before and finished it! But I don’t this time and now I have to endure his smugness. Oh, why? I hate him!

We talk for a while and I suppose we get on the same page. It looks like we do at least. As we go our separate ways, I fist bump him. He hates it but I do it nonetheless. You see, we’re not touchy at all. ”No?”, I ask. Reluctantly, he gives in. I go left, he goes right. I hide in my jacket as I walk to my car. I want to look back but I don’t. If I did, I would have seen him looking at me, just staring as I walked away.

He texted me halfway through the afternoon.

”So, still like me?”

Oh God, make me good but just not yet!

Santiago Roque


  • a person or thing whose presence or behavior is likely to put one at a disadvantage.

If I had a superpower, I’d probably be a liability enabler. Just roaming around, looking for people to put at a disadvantage. That’s me. I think.
Then people would be just fine pointing their finger at me, just like: “hey, it’s on him, that fucker enabled me!”. And it would be all fine. They could just lose it for a while with none of the guilt that comes with the experience of being a wild spirit. You know, just middle finger-ing life like we should, now and then.

I might be a bad influence. Perhaps. I can admit that. It’s actually kind of fun. People become more interesting this way. We all need that person that gives that last push for people to misbehave slightly and just act crazy if only just for a short while.

I rarely doubt myself. Even if I’m wrong or especially when I’m wrong. If it goes well, great if not, well, next time then. I feel others should think the same too. I mean, it’s all right playing it safe but do you really want to go through life like that? Life can be pretty exciting if you dare.

I’ve read this book about the antidote for chaos. I know, it doesn’t suit me, I enjoy organized chaos, but it is a surprisingly enjoyable read. I could quote most of the book as it is very good but I particularly enjoyed this one bit:

“You’re going to pay a price for everything you do and everything you don’t do. You don’t get to choose to not pay a price. You get to choose which poison you’re going to take. That’s it.”

That’s very accurate, I think. The price is set if you do or if you don’t do. You get to choose what you can live with. It’s almost poetic. These philosophers nowadays, they know their shit!

Along the way, you’ll meet people that will surprise you. But good surprise you. And then, you’ll have those that disappoint you. And for those, you’ll be nothing but a toy that they enjoy. For a while. But who cares?

Santiago Roque