We Can "Agree to Disagree"... Kinda...

not that it matters
my bridges have all been burnt
you're still in my heart

I would like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to have these conversations with you. Rarely am I afforded the chance to have cultural discussions with a PhD candidate in linguistic anthropology. You asked can't we "agree to disagree" and I said no because I felt that it would invalidate my argument and that it would allow you to view me in a way contrary to myself and not fully accept who I am.

Can we "agree to disagree"? The answer is kinda, but in reality, it's more than likely past that point.

I had a conversation with Principio before Ralphie bogarted my phone, and in this discussion we touched upon a very important factor that I failed to realise -- the fact that both arguments we each hold dearly are valid arguments in their own field of academia.

While you come at me from the position of linguistic anthropology and I respond as a sociologist, our answers will conflict, but be valid points in our respective areas of study. I have, from the get, given you that your point was valid and could see your opinion. When you asked to "agree to disagree", you never acknowledged that my point of view could also be correct, rather you found it problematic at best. I took that to heart, that you couldn't accept me for the person that I am.

I'm still bruised and broken over what has happened. I think I fell in love with the image of what you represented.

It started with a thought provoking email that progressed into heated debates over telephone. We would watch each other just doing nothing via webcam, yet feel connected and in the same place. You shared yourself with me and I with you. We spoke of visiting each other and who would sleep on the couch. It all made sense in my mind. I was beyond comfortable with you -- before we even met I felt like we would get along fine. Was I wrong? I'll never know.

Is this an apology? Of sorts. When our conversation ended the night before last, I was defeated, broken and in tears -- over a person I had never even seen in real life. You represented everything that I wanted/needed in my life -- that fact that you were Puerto Rican had nothing to do with it. It was your intelligence, charm and character that drew me to you, the way you hid your face under the hood on your hoodie during the cold Chicago nights, the text message conversations we had before sleep. It was all a fantasy created in my mind that felt like reality, and for that, I'm sorry. I built you up to be something that could never disappoint, however clearly I was once again mistaken.

Antes de conocerte el mundo era plano... y me canse de besar ranas en vano...