05 I Blamed Myself
Back in the house that night, explosions started, we went to our spaces right away. We sat on the bathroom floor again and I completely broke down and started crying. It felt as if all the responsibilities that I’ve ever had in my life were suddenly inconsequential. All that work to be done, bills to be paid, the chores of the house, absolutely none of that was important anymore. My responsibility right now was to keep me and my wife alive. I never felt such a weight on my shoulders. I was also in a country where I don’t speak the language, I don’t have a way to ask for help, to look for options and alternatives. I was completely dependent on Rita for most of the complex things. I felt like a child. Like a child with the responsibility of an adult in a war zone. I felt incompetent and severely unprepared. I blamed myself for all of that.
All these feelings of inadequacy were probably lingering inside for days, maybe even weeks, and it was hard to snap out of that state. I knew I had to stop feeling sorry for myself, but it was way too hard.
I thought of my aunt Graciela and my uncle Carlos in Mexico, who recently died from COVID. They were two of my closest relatives, I grew up with both of them after my mom died. Graciela was like a mother to me, Carlos was the fun uncle, who in 1994 took me to my first live concert, the Rolling Stones. I talked on the phone with both regularly, they always tried to look after me and make sure I stayed out of trouble. I felt oddly glad that they were not alive to know what was going on right now, I knew they would’ve lost all sleep.
And then I thought of my dad. He was probably losing all his sleep. I thought that I didn’t want to give him the burden of losing a son and a daughter-in-law. I also thought of my sister, Rita’s parents, my grandma, everyone who is still alive and who are probably having a hard time knowing that we’re here, even though they don’t know the full extent of the situation, even if I’ve told them many times that they shouldn’t worry and things are ok.
Explosions started being more frequent, now every 30-50 minutes. I couldn’t tell if they were closer or not, but the sounds started to get overwhelming. After 9pm we had something like 2 hours without bombs. This is when Rita told me that she was tired of waiting, because she, like me, felt like we were waiting for nothing, waiting to get killed. We decided then that we had to get out and we started drafting a plan.