1/1/26

I would not say that 2025 was an easy year.

But I am truly, deeply grateful for everything that happened during it.

On New Year’s Eve, and on the first day of the new year, I was not happy.

On the night of December 31, I planned to go to Copacabana to celebrate by the sea with Lucy and her friends. It took me a long time to get a car.

The driver seemed unstable, mentally very chaotic. There was a kind of hatred in his eyes that frightened me. He kept talking to himself, swearing, and several times almost crashed into other cars.

I could feel that it was intentional. I even felt that he did not want to live anymore.

I wanted to get out of the car.

But I did not know whether getting out would be even more dangerous.

So I could only hold tightly onto the seatbelt, my whole body tense.

Terrified, I finally arrived at Lucy’s place.

We walked together toward Copacabana.

It was far. We walked fast.

There were many people.

I felt extremely vulnerable.

Low energy.

When we reached the beach, there were even more people.

Lucy reunited with her friends.

I had no desire to connect or socialize.

After talking with Lucy for a while, I stood alone by the sea, watching the waves roll in again and again.

When the fireworks began, everyone around me was happy. People jumped into the ocean, took photos, hugged, screamed.

I offered flowers to the sea, made seven wishes, and jumped over seven waves.

In that moment, I felt calm.

My wishes were:

Physical and mental health.

Inner peace.

Love. To perceive love, to create love, to receive love. To love the people and things around me, and to keep learning how to love myself more gently and more honestly.

To continue exploring the world, and to continue exploring myself.

To create, and to build projects that truly belong to me.

To learn not to force things to happen. To trust time. To trust the flow. To let what is meant to come, come.

Later, my night started to turn awful.

There was a man I had met a few times before, the one we shared the hiking trip. He was kind, interesting, sincere.

I told him early on that I was in a healing phase after a breakup.

He respected my rhythm and where I was.

He was nearby by the beach and invited me over.

I originally planned to go home, but when I checked the address, it was very close.

I told myself I would just go over to say Happy New Year.

On the way to Ipanema Arpoador, I felt calm.

At least at that moment, I was calm.

These days, whenever my body and mind sense that romance is approaching, I feel extremely uncomfortable.

I want to cry.

I think of Beans.

I think of his love, and of the way I loved him.

I have never been like this before.

After breaking up with Johann, I almost immediately allowed myself to enter intimacy again, and I met Jonny.

After breaking up with Kostya, I traveled alone for over a month, and on the road I met Clement.

After breaking up with Gonza, I traveled through Bolivia, Chile, Uruguay, and Ecuador, then went to Antarctica. In a constantly moving body, romance found me again. After returning to BA, there was chungo.

After breaking up with Fede, I did not close the door either, and Lucas walked in.

The people I became physically intimate with were not just random men. They were people who cared about me, who were attentive, who approached me sincerely.

And I responded to them honestly.

But it has been two months since I broke up with Beans.

This time, I still cannot allow new romance.

Speaking of Beans.

Two days ago, we had a phone call that lasted about three hours.

We talked openly about many things.

I was deeply moved that we could do that.

I truly hope we can still exist in each other’s lives in some way. After all, there was so much love between us.

That makes me happy. I also feel that we are both continuing to grow, with more closure and more clarity.

I know that I gave him a great deal of love.

I think I still love him now.

This is truly cruel. To starve and kill the love inside your own heart with your own hands.

But I am also very clear that if it continues, the pain will return.

I do not yet know how to find that balance. I am also not sure whether he is looking for that balance.

Back to New Year’s Eve.

When I walked up to that man, we realized that neither of us had followed tradition. We were both wearing casual clothes, and both in blue.

We smiled in surprise, wished each other a happy new year, and shared a kiss.

In that moment, I suddenly felt happy. A thought flashed through my mind. Am I really able to move on? Can I allow someone else into my life?

We had a drink. I wanted popcorn. The popcorn here even had bacon or condensed milk added. I was genuinely shocked.

We talked about many interesting things.

Until we took a few light puffs together. After the third one, I suddenly became very high. My body slowed down. I closed my eyes.

At first, I was calm.

I was enjoying it.

But I could feel him starting to worry. He went to buy water and kept asking me, Shikin, are you okay?

Suddenly, I became very uncomfortable.

I did not want to be with him.

I just wanted to go home. Alone.

I could feel his nervousness. I could feel his insecurity. I could feel his fear. I could feel his expectations. I could feel everything, all at once. Suddenly, it became unbearable.

He asked if we should take a walk.

I said no, I wanted to go home.

He said okay, his car was nearby.

As we walked, he carefully supported me, constantly checking if I was okay.

But I truly felt repelled. I did not want to be with him for even one more minute.

I thought of Beans.

I thought of that time in Cali when he was high and I took care of him.

I thought of the sense of safety I felt with him, and of my instinct to care for him.

I thought of our mushroom journey in San Jose del Pacifico.

I thought of the way we looked at each other. That certainty. That calm. That feeling of he is my love, my partner, my home.

On the way home, I was extremely sensitive, extremely paranoid. He was driving at 70 miles per hour on the highway, and I felt afraid. I could feel his tension, which made me even more tense.

I asked him if he was okay.

He said he regretted handing me the joint. He said he had expectations for the time we spent together. He knew I was only passing through, and he knew I was still grieving my previous relationship. But even in these brief moments, he saw many possibilities. He liked me and wanted to get to know me.

And now, the situation made him feel conflicted. He was processing his own emotions.

I told him thank you for sharing his feelings. But that I did not have the capacity for a deep conversation at that moment. We could talk after I was sober.

I also told him a few things very clearly. Please do not blame yourself. I am an adult, and I chose to take the joint myself. I hope what you want to get to know is the whole, real me, not a beautified version.

My feelings for my ex are still very strong, and you know that. I do not want to build any false fantasies anymore. The happy Shikin and the painful Shikin are both me. This applies whether it is me toward you, or you toward me.

Please do not overthink. Everything will pass. Thank you for taking me home. Please drive safely and let me know when you get home.

After I got home, I removed my makeup, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and collapsed onto the bed. I listened to my heartbeat, fast.

I missed Beans so much. For the past three months, I have missed him in different ways.

I opened a voice message he once sent me and listened to it over and over. Crying in the dark. Crying. Crying.

I do not know how much time passed before I called Mike.

I said happy new year, Mike. I am really grateful to have you in my life.

He wished me well and asked how my New Year’s Eve was. I broke down and said that deep inside, I seemed to be afraid of men. I did not want to be with anyone. I did not want anyone. I only wanted my Beans.

My rationality loosened. My defenses collapsed. My emotions stopped lining up.

At that moment, I was not analyzing relationships. I was not reviewing gains and losses. I was not reminding myself to love myself.

At that moment, I was simply, primitively missing him.

Missing his scent. Missing his presence. Missing the person who once came close to my body and my life.

It was a kind of longing that bypassed morality, bypassed growth, bypassed the idea of I already understand.

It was raw. Direct. Undignified. And very real.

And I know that the existence of this longing does not erase the pain I endured, nor does it deny how I once lost myself.

It only means that after stripping away all narratives, my body still remembers him.

I told Mike that I still love Beans.

I miss the person who made me feel immense love.

I miss the person who made me want to get married and have children.

I asked him not to talk to me about logic.

I just wanted to be told that I am beautiful, strong, and loved.

I wanted to be told that this pain would pass.

This is truly the most painful breakup of my life, but I will be okay.

I cried until I could not speak.

He stayed with me gently and sincerely.

Later, he said he needed to go train, Shikin, go to sleep, and that we would talk again tomorrow.

After hanging up, I looked through photos of Beans. His smile. His clumsiness. His shyness. His sincerity. His cuteness. His humor. I saw us dancing. I saw him after diving, clinging to my neck like a cat, saying "she’s so cool".

I miss the version of me who loved him.

I also miss the version of me who was loved by him.

I think of his wounded self, his angry self, his sad self.

I wish I could hold that version of him too.

But I also know that the wounded me needs me. The sad me needs me. The angry me also needs me.

What I can do is take care of myself first.

This is not the first time I have experienced a flood of memories. Over the past two months, I have been filled with memories, analysis, reflection.

But in an altered state, there was only one thing left in my mind. I miss him.

I realized that regardless of the problems, the trauma, or our individual lessons, I still love him.

And loving him, in itself, is something natural, and something beautiful.

I am writing this not because I am obsessed with our intimate relationship. I am not.

I am simply, truly heartbroken.

And when I sit down to write all of this, I suddenly feel safe.

Later, I had dinner with my roommate. Fish with rice, and reheated vegetable soup I made last night.

I saw a new leaf unfurling on the Monstera on the balcony. I gently touched it. In that moment, I suddenly felt happy. As if some kind of magic briefly visited my heart.

I do not know how to navigate my relationship with Beans in the future. I only know that I miss him.

But I also know that I need to keep taking care of myself. If the traits of his that hurt me have not changed, then I must take responsibility on my side to protect myself and love myself.

I allow myself to miss him, to remember his goodness, to acknowledge the tenderness, connection, and love that truly existed.

But this does not mean that I have forgotten how much pain I was in.

It does not mean that I was unaware of how I slowly lost myself in that relationship.

It does not mean that I did not notice how that love made me dislike the version of myself who was loving.

And it does not mean that I did not know that at that time, I was not loving myself well.

I can miss him and remain clear.

I can look back with feeling, without returning there.

Today, I spoke on the phone with three men.

My father. Mike. Kostya.

The call with my father started with New Year’s wishes. We confirmed my flight time, and then I told him that I was still sad. I said I hoped he could care for me, maybe by asking me questions.

So he did, very seriously.

Little one, do you think this person is kind?

I said yes. He is beautiful, kind, and interesting.

My little friend, what do you think you learned from this relationship?

I said I experienced this level of love for the first time. We had many beautiful and profound memories.

I saw how much I was able to give, and how much the other person gave as well. We both tried so hard to understand ourselves and to heal.

I had my first real experience of what it means to create a home with a man.

I learned let them be. Things cannot be forced.

I learned that heartbreak can hurt this deeply.

I feel that I am strong, that I have a lot of love, and that I still have many things to work on.

My little friend, do you think the gap between you two was cultural, or individual?

I said I do not think it was cultural. We are both very international and do not truly belong to one place. I think it was personality.

For him, expressing negative emotions is difficult. For me, when I am hurt, my emotions explode.

My little friend, do you hate him?

I said not at all.

Eventually, he ran out of questions.

I said Dad, I just want to cry right now.

He said then cry. Dad will stay with you.

So I cried on video for a long time, while he awkwardly comforted me.

I said Dad, I know this is hard for you, but thank you for trying.

I love you.

On the call with Mike, I could barely say a few words before breaking down again.

I asked if it would ever end. I thought my worst phase had passed. Why were my emotions still so intense?

I said I really missed Beans. I even wanted to go to SP to see him immediately.

He asked whether I missed him as a person, or the feelings he gave me, or the version of Shikin who was once happy.

I said probably all of it. I miss him, and I miss the state we were in when we loved each other.

To be honest, I do not remember much of what he said after that. I only remember crying.

He said let it out, Shikin. Let it out.

The call with Kostya was like usual. We talk about twice a year, sharing updates.

We talked about 2025, 2026, New Year’s, family, friends, and then about my breakup.

He asked if I was okay.

I said I was in the healing process, and this time it hurt a lot.

He said that in Brazil, there must be many interesting new romances.

I said I could not. The romantic and passionate Shikin seemed to be gone, offline now.

He said wow, this deep?

I said yes. Our love was not long, but it was very deep.

He said sorry, but is your ex-boyfriend bald? I think I saw him in your IG story.

I froze, then suddenly laughed. Yes, it’s him. But what kind of response is that?

He said sorry, but at least your sadness turned into laughter, right?

The presence of Mike and Kostya in my life gives me hope regarding my relationship with Beans.

I also hope that one day, Beans and I can find a new balance. Let go of some of the past, and if both sides are willing, continue loving each other in a new way.

I hope this experience will be a low start and a high rise for my 2026.

I hope this paranoid pain brings the parts I have not fully processed to the surface, allowing me to heal this breakup more completely and prepare for the lessons of 2026.