I had been trying to understand for some time why Americans were so interested when they started going out with me and after a short time they ended up pulling away, without any apparent justification. I discussed this a lot with a friend and I had already concluded that their fear is precisely the fact that liking someone represents a serious risk of not realizing the life plans they have had since they were born: graduating from high school, getting into a good college, get a job that pays well, buy a nice house, travel, enjoy life and then after 30, if they\’ve enjoyed it enough, if they\’ve already reached the so-called financial stability, a marriage, a child and a dog can begin to be part of their plans. The fear is so great that the prerequisite NO DRAMA on dating sites can be seen in most of the profiles. be emotional, talking about your feelings with someone you\’re seeing is a pain in the ass if you want to keep seeing the creature. But, despite these two years collecting practical data (and put some practice on this lol), some conversations with Americans on the subject and having in my heart the certainty that this was what made the gringos run away from my intense Brazilianness , none of them has ever convincingly justified their escape, until today… Today I had confirmation of my thesis. Today I finally managed to get an American I dated a few times to tell me that he was too focused on his goals to invest in a romance. This after having already invested a lot to go out with me and even having a little jealousy crisis that was completely unreasonable. It is the height of contradiction. Liking someone and not wanting to be with them. It is a great representation of the fear generated by individualism and rationalism without size. However, I was not angry, after all I already knew. I was actually quite relieved, for all the others before this one. And happy, because at least one of them managed to justify himself, even if he was unaware of his own feelings, which I made a point of pointing out before wishing him to do what he thought would be best for his life. And I warned, of course, not to hurt your soul while pursuing your goals. I spoke with authority. I know what that is, I\’ve been there. I made concrete and ambitious plans, I went after and got almost everything I wanted, I had an individualism and an ego the size of the planet, but I was unaware of my most intimate desires, my deepest needs, causing my soul to walk alone, crippling, falling and trying to get up, while I was lost in a relationship extremely isolated from the world for not knowing myself. And that\’s exactly how we get sick. That\’s exactly how I spent six years taking prescription medication, and that\’s exactly why this American society, which Brazilians look up to so much, has been getting sick. Diabetes, alcohol and drug addiction, depression, suicide, the statistics are terrifying here. And everything indicates that we Brazilians are heading towards the same abyss. All to avoid the \”drama\”. Everything so you don\’t feel, don\’t get frustrated, don\’t get disappointed, break your face and learn to deal with that feeling. Feeling pain is healthy, it\’s a body alert, but it won\’t hurt forever, as soon as it\’s healed, it passes. As my wise mother says, you don\’t have to do anything with what you feel, just feel it, let it pass. But no, at the first frustration we already make the queue move, at the first sadness we already resort to a tranquilizer so as not to feel it. We seek practical solutions for what is far from objective: feelings. We don\’t let the heart calm down, heal. We run out, because we don\’t want to walk, we\’re in a hurry not to feel it and there goes our soul, dragging after us, trying to keep up and shouting wait, fuck, you don\’t need to run like that, what are you running away from?. The worst thing is that we are running away from ourselves. Yeah, I definitely came to America not only to discover myself, but also to learn how to deal with my feelings. My huge São Paulo with all its hustle and bustle, full of individualistic people, it still doesn\’t reach the feet of the coldness that Americans here have to relate to. And maybe I needed that to know what it was like to be me, what it was like to feel, what it was like to let myself be carried away by life and let the wounds heal by themselves. The other day I saw Mr. French on the train, the one from the text Letter of Terminus. The only one I really fell in love with here on this earth. The curious thing is that the day before I had passed very close to his house and it made me want to write a letter to say everything I never had the chance to say, everything I felt and couldn\’t express. There are no coincidences, right? When I got home from work that night I knew I had to write. I spent almost two hours typing little more than a page. The problem was not the language, but realizing the feelings that were still inside me and expressing them. I cried and took deep breaths a few times while writing. Strangely, when I finished I felt relieved and released from everything that still held me to him. There was no more anger, no more longing. I can even say that I had a feeling of pity, without explanation. But above all, there was no longer any need to say anything else. When I let myself feel, it finally passed. I don\’t know if one day I\’ll even deliver this letter. It was written much more for me than for him. I\’ve been learning that not everything I try to understand or solve has an explanation or solution. And if you don\’t have it, it\’s because it\’s not supposed to have it, it\’s solved. Life is much more interesting and beautiful when we let it be, when we are not trying to control what we feel. If I knew that it was just admitting to myself everything I felt!