8 Dark Days with Daniel Castillo

Prologue
Daniel Castillo was Guatemalan, 23, and had rock hard abs. He played professional soccer in his home country at the age of seventeen, and I often wondered why he would give that up for a job in framing at a company where his uncle could keep him under the table.
His mother had had five children by the time she was 26 and had raised them all as a single parent after Daniel's father passed way. The youngest of the five hadn't even been a year old when two preists sat Daniel and his brother Luis down at their tiny church on a school day and informed them that their father had been shot in the back. Luis had reacted angrily, and was still angry to date. Daniel had been tender hearted and had taken over as consoler, joke teller, and focused hard worker.
Daniel showed up in the US with Luis when he was only 18 years old. They stayed with an uncle until they found their own apartment. Younger sister and brother Marisol and Javier were sent from Guatemala to attend high school, and when I met Daniel they were all living in a two bedroom apartment that always smelled like warm tortillas.
I respected him and his value system. He made me want to be a better person.

The First Dark Day.
1) I was sitting in front of the computer at work logging dates into the system and texting Daniel back and forth. He was excited that we had gotten together and said he liked kissing me. Or at least thats what he meant.
"Your lips so nice. Tu eres muy hermosa, mi princessita bella."
Suddenly a text came in from a new number.
"Hey girl whats up?"
I looked twice at it, startled, because I didn't just give my number out to everybody.
"Who is this?"
I kept up a tennis game of text with Daniel, then finally,
"You met me at the salsa club. This is Carlos. You don't remember?"
We texted back and forth. I was perplexed at not remembering this Carlos person. I was also amazed that he clearly spoke better English than Daniel. As Daniel continued to text me at the same time as Carlos the Mysterious, I began to smell a rat.
"I have a boyfriend. Please leave me alone," I texted to Carlos.
"Oh, Daniel?"
I put the phone down on my desktop. Then I picked it back up.
"Who the fuck are you. Why do you keep texting me if you know I have a boyfriend. Especially if you know its Daniel. What the hell is this? Some kind of test?"
Immediately I got: "I care a lot about my cousin. I needed to make sure you were good for him."
Never mind the fact that five months later I learned Carlos, whose real name was Enrique, had cheated on his girlfriend of 4 years more than a few times.
After this exchange I was satisfied, at least for the time being, that I was good for Daniel. I was satisfied that I had passed the test. I was satisfied that he knew what kind of girl I was.

I Should Have Known From That "Test," Huh.
2) On maybe our second or third date, I was driving down Blackman, winding around curves when my phone started ringing in my lap. Daniel and I had just come from eating at a resturant and are filled with new-relationship glee. I pressed the "Answer" button with my thumb, and suddenly realized it was my ex-boyfriend who was scum, but who was moving to North Carolina in another week. I jumped at the realization that I answered his call, then pressed the "End Call" button quickly, and worked to try to turn the volume on the phone toward silent.
Daniel, however, had already sensed the change in my behavior.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"Nobody. Its just somebody who needs to learn I don't want to talk to them."
"Oh."
He stared out the window all the way home. At my apartment, I turned on the tv and crashed myself next to him. He looked blankly at the screen, a dead look in his eyes.
"What is it?"
"I know that's some boy."
"Who? Where?" I was perplexed.
"On your phone. He is your ex-boyfriend?"
"Well... yes. But, I broke up with him. He's moving soon. He won't call me after that."
"You love him?"
"No. Why would you ask that? I'm here with you!"
"I don't know." He folded his arms. "Maybe you have feeling for somebody other."
"I hate his guts, Daniel. I really do. I don't like him at all. If I "had feeling" for him I would be with him. He wants me bad enough or something. But he's a jackass so I'm not gonna go there. I'm a lot smarter than that. He's moving." I said. It was final. "I'm GLAD that he's moving."
"How you feel if I'm with you and some girl is call my phone? How you feel?"
"Fine. I guess. You're with me. I don't care."
"No. No, no no, I don't think so."
"Seriously, Daniel. Its not a big deal."
But it was.
I changed my phone number a week later at his request. Nobody knew about the new number but my best friend Shana, and my family.

Isolation Is Eminent
3) It was 11:30pm, and I had already texted Daniel goodnight. I had been watching late night cable tv and reruns of 16 and Pregnant. I was startled when I heard the phone vibrate. It was a text message from Daniel.
"Why, Barbie? Why you do this things? Why you lie and hide things? Maybe I can't be with you.."
What is it, now? I thought to myself, and texted back:
"What happened? What do you mean? I don't hide anything. I don't understand."
"I know now! I see your pictures!"
Pictures? Great.
"My pictures? Please call me and talk to me about this. I can't text you about something important." I called him. He didn't pick up. I called again. No answer. While I was calling, all these texts started pouring in.
"You have other boys. I know. I see in your pictures. This hurts me. I am feel bad, really bad. Se siente mal, y no entiendo la raison por este juego con mi corazon..."
I texted back. "I'm not playing games! What are you talking about!? Just tell me what you're talking about. Is it my facebook? What is it?!"
"See, even you know, Barbie. Even you know what is bad and still you do."
"Just answer my call. I don't know why you can't answer my call."
"I am very bad. Mucho lloras."
"I don't care! Answer the phone, Daniel."
There was a pause. I called two more times. No answer.
"Barbie why you doing that? Why you wanna hurt me? You have my heart, but you playing with my corazon. You don't care!"
I called five more times in a row. I was really upset then. He finally answered.
"What you doing with these boys?" His voice was low and I knew he was probably standing outside his apartment trying to be quiet.
I thought back. What pictures did I even have on there? I had pictures of my high school boyfriend from like 5 years ago. I had pictures of myself and a guy friend at a formal. It was insane how outdated my pictures were.
"Did you see the dates, Daniel? Did you even look at them? These things were from a long time ago. I don't even talk to these people now."
"You have the picture for you and they, Barbie. Why you have if you don't care."
"I don't... I don't know. I'll take it off. I'll take my whole page down. I don't need it anyway."
"Just I want you and me and nobody other. I don't know what you doing en pasado, Barbie, but you have these things because you thinking good in they. I know--" His voice cracked. He really was crying. "I know you are love somebody before me, but we can start a new life. We need forget all these things."
"I know."

Because I'm Good In Everything!
4) We went through a drive thru to get some barbecue to take back to my mom's house for a family get-together. I hand over my money, almost dropping some. Daniel is in the passenger seat.
The guy behind the window takes my money, and glances past me at the book I have on my center console. Its The Giver by Lois Lowry.
"What you reading there? Is that The Giver?"
"Yes," I say, "I have to teach it this coming week."
"So you're a... ninth grade teacher?"
"Seventh."
"Man, that was a good book." He rakes one hand through his disheveled brown hair. He's sweaty. Its hot outside.
"Yeah. It is a good book."
He shuts the window for a few seconds. I wait patiently, putting my wallet back into my purse. Daniel grabs the book next to me and starts examining the back of it. I wonder how much of it he can read.
"You teach over here at Murray?" the window boy is back with two bags.
"No, I teach at Page Middle."
"Cool." He hands me the bags. "Well, have a good day."
"You too."
I drive off around the corner toward my mom's house. I look at Daniel, because I can feel the discomfort radiating off of him for some reason. He's still analyzing the back of my paperback.
"Why you talking with these people?"
"Huh?"
"Why you say these things? I think this is not normal, Barbie."
"Well. I don't know. He asked about the book. I told him.""--But you don't have to say all these things about your job. I know you are good in everything. You can talk with whoever you want. But maybe you don't know how you look. You talking some guy and he think 'wow, she is so pretty, and so nice, and smart' and because you talking him he thinks, 'yes, i know, she like me.'"
"Come on, Daniel! Its not that way!"
"No. Don't say you don't know this, because I see in your face when you talking these people. You are so happy to talk with they. You like this. I don't know why you can't be normal."
"I AM normal, Daniel! I don't live under a rock!"
"No, its not about this. I don't see why need everybody looking you. You are beautiful and I tell you this. You know this. Why you need everybody tell you this too?"
I swallow my anger. It bulges in my neck like a bone. Is part of him right? Why can't I just shut up sometimes, if it will make him feel better?
"I'm sorry, Daniel. Being able to talk to people is something I got from my mom. You see how good she is with people? She's good with you, too! Even from the beginning. Maybe I'm this way because of her. But..." I swallow again. "I will try to think more about what is best for our relationship."

I Can SHOW You
5) It is Sunday afternoon and I am pulling out a pair of gym shorts from my dresser to change into after church. Daniel has come home with me and we are about to go to his cousin's house to watch the Barcelona v Real Madrid game. I am pumped. I am starting to love soccer for the same reason's I was always told I'd love it. A) your man loves it, and B) the players are hot. As I turn around from pulling out the shorts, I find Daniel right behind me. He looks me right in the eye and then jumps onto my bed, landing face first into a pillow.
"What is it?" I know him too well. "What did I do?"
"You... you still have some things."
"What?"
"That picture. In your clothes." His voice is muffled from being facedown in the pillow.
I pause, and stiffen. In my rush to hide all the things in my apartment that were "pasado" related, I had stuffed a lot of things into my sock and pajama drawer. There was a huge package of pictures of Miguel Morales and I, a homecoming picture with my first boyfriend when I was fourteen, and a rather large picture of myself and Russ Walker after prom my junior year of high school. Please bear in mind, my twenty four year old self was now standing in front of Daniel and I felt BAD about having these pictures.
"I just haven't had time to give it to my mom."
"You want to keep this picture?"
"Well... its a good picture.""I know this! I always know this! I feel it in my body, maybe God tell me, I don't know. But I always feel this that you have feeling for other boy. Now I know! You lie to me, Barbie. You told me you are finish with this pasado, but now I see. Now I see!"
Thats when the rage came."God damn you! You don't know who I am by now?! You think I hold back?! I changed my phone number for you! I deleted my facebook for you! I do all these things for you and just because you find some picture from TEN YEARS AGO in my sock drawer you think our relationship is a lie?!" I was seething. I picked up the picture, swiping my hand so that a pink pair of shorts covered up the walgreens envelope containing Miguel's pictures.
"Why you so angry? Don't shout. I do not shout. Why you crazy like this every time."
"Because you don't understand! I can't make you understand! I don't know what I have to do to show you!?"
"Just be with me!"
"I AM with you!"
"And don't lie! Don't hide secrets! Sin secretas nuestro amor es perfecta." He sat on edge of the bed. "Tu eres el amor de mi vida!"
"Y tu eres el amor de mi vida tambien, pero, Daniel, necessitas tengo confianza en mi. Please please trust me."
"I trust you, Barbie, but you always doing these things. Always you hide some little things. Why you hide from me if you don't care for him. Look now! You hiding him with your clothes! Why? So you can get him out and look and think 'oooh, he so nice...'"
"No! No, no no!!!" I picked up the picture, frame and all. I walked with it into the living room. "I don't care about this! I don't give a shit about him! I can show you! I can SHOW you!"
Daniel had followed me. He watched, flinching, as I brought my hands up, fingers gripping the bottom of the silver frame, and slammed it glass side down, onto the edge of my kitchen table.
The sound of the glass shattering into a thousand tiny shards on my carpet was the only thing that shocked me out of my rage.

Stupid Frozen Pizza
6) It had snowed all night. It was still snowing that afternoon. Daniel had been caught at his apartment. I was snowed in at mine. Southern snow is different from northern snow. Ice generally coats the road underneath southern snow so that driving can become nearly impossible, even when salt trucks run on the hour.
I was watching Judge Judy chew out a guy with too many piercings when I decided I should go to the store to buy some snowed-in food. I was particularly in the mood for freezer pizza. A cripsy crusted totino's pepperoni sounded mouthwatering. The grocery store was right across the street. It would be a quick and beautiful walk.
Daniel had been texting me off and on all day, pausing to tell me what he was doing. "What are you doing?" He texted.
"Cleaning my apartment," I texted back.
I would buy some more Lysol at the store as well. I had run out, and my bathroom was disgusting. Most significant was the fact that apparently Daniel, and all males really, couldn't keep his pee in the toilet. I had disgusted myself by many an unwiped gift in the past week and had decided a deep clean was necessary.
Something in the back of my mind told me not to let Daniel know I was walking to the store. I wasn't consciously lying to him about it. There were just some things he didn't need to know. He was the worst kind of worrier. He worried in ways that made me feel bad instead of loved.
By the time I got across the street and picked up a basket at the market I was covered in wet snow. I loved it. I picked up some Lysol, some pizzas, some freezer mozzarella sticks, a candle, some cereal, and a carton of milk. I was looking at some granola bars when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Thinking nothing of it, I opened the phone.
"Hey!" I was sunshine.
"Hola Barbie hermosa, what you doing?"
"I'm..." Suddenly I remembered I hadn't told him I was at the store. Play cool, I said to myself. "I went across the street to get some cleaning stuff. I ran out."
"In the snow? Its cold, Barbie."
"Yeah, I'm wearing two coats. Its really pretty out."
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned quickly to see a man wearing a cap and a big black puffy coat. He looked like he'd walked to the store, too.
"Where did you get those frozen pizzas?" He asked, gesturing to my basket.
I pressed the phone into my shoulder. "Oh, uh, they're in the middle. Two aisles over."
"They look really good. Pizza sounds great with all this snow, huh."
"Yeah, these are my favorite," I said.
"Thanks," he said, and walked off.
I put the phone back to my ear.
"Hey! Hey, who was that?" There was concern in Daniel's voice.
"I don't know. Some guy looking for pizza."
"Where are you? What you doing? You said before you were cleaning, why you always lie!?"
And he hung up.
"Shit." I said, and I put all my things down. I called him back. Once, twice, three times.
Texts started pouring in again.
"Why you lie so much, Barbie. Why you hurt me? You say you cleaning your apartment, now you out with boys. What is this love if you lie to me. You break my heart. I can't be with you no more. You BREAK my heart."
"I'm at the freakin store Daniel," I started texting as fast as my frozen fingers could go.
"You say you in you apartment. Pero todo es mentira. Eres una mentirosa, la verdad. Porque tu me penas???"
"I know you worry about me! I didn't want you to worry!"
"No mas, Barbie. This is goodbye, la verdad, no mas for us. I hope you find a good life with these boy."
"Damn it! Why you do this? Todo tiempo you think I lie. I'm not a mentirosa! I tell you the truth! I'm at the store! You can't trust me?!"
I called then, probably five times. I picked up my stuff and carried it to the check out. I called him all the way through the line and walked outside with three big bags of stuff I had no desire to use.
He had turned off his phone.

Flirting With My Eyes
7) On the way back from a beach vacation we stop at a Cracker Barrel. Its my favorite long-trip food and it always makes me think of speech and debate, where we used to stop at Cracker Barrels on the way too and from tournaments because they were generally easy to access from the road.
"Here is your macaroni. Double order." The waiter puts down our food with a scrape, makes sure we're set, and then heads to a table two rows behind us.
"Yummy yum yum!!!" I squeak before picking up my fork.
Daniel smiles. "You like macaroni."
"Yep!" I dig in. "You like chicken fried chicken."
While we eat, and I re-enact part of Bill Murrays dinner from What About Bob, I listen to the conversation going on just behind Daniel. A guy with a crew cut is discussing his leave from Iraq with the waiter. Its interesting to hear him talk about it. He mentions that he's on his way home from the base right now. The white haired old lady seated opposite him beams with pride. I wonder why no one else came to get him.
In the car, Daniel is silent for a long time. I think nothing of it. I'm just as ready to be home as he is. We drag our things into my apartment from the car and I flop down on my bed, glad to be back.
"What happened at the Cracker Barrel today?"
"I ate macaroni, and it was awesome. Did you like your chicken? I noticed you didn't eat much of it."
"It was good."
"Oh my god, are you feeling sick? I've seen resturants undercook their stuff before. Do you feel all right?"
"I'm fine," he says. He comes and sits on the bed with me. "What ELSE happened at the Cracker Barrel."
I sit up, and turn to face him. What, now?
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't worry about it."
Daniel went home. He said he didn't feel so good after all. He had a headache. He was really sick.
Two hours after he leaves, I'm watching tv and my phone starts vibrating.
"I saw you today. I know what you did."
"What?"
"I saw you looking at him."
Immediately I feel caught, but I have no idea what in.
"Him? Him who? What are you talking about. Just tell me." I place the phone on my lap and stare at it, waiting for him to respond.
"I saw you looking at the man with food. You flirting with him. With your eyes. I know you are good in all these things, Barbie, you are very pretty. But please. Only I say do not do these things in front to me. That is make me very sad. That hurt me."
"What? No no no. You are being stupid. I don't understand why you no trust me."
"This is not no trust. This is what I see. I know this because I see.""What did you see?"
"You looking him, he looking you, then you look away, he look back. Its like flirt, Barbie. Its bad in front to me. Now I know I really lose you!"

Torres, Ramos, Hernandez, Ochoa, Castillo...
8) Spain was playing Germany for a place in the World Cup finals. I was stoked. I loved Spain for Barcelona and Real Madrid. I loved Fernando Torres. I loved Sergio Ramos. Besides, all the German players were ugly. I was sitting with Daniel and his mother and sister. His mother had been visiting from Guatemala. We sat on the floor leaned up against the couches that were so dirty they creeped me out. Daniel sat behind me on the couch, flipping through a booklet of starred world cup players.
"You like Torres?" Marisol asked. She was sixteen and very quiet, but she had opened up a little more lately.
"Yes, isn't he cute!?" I pointed to him on the tv screen in front of us. "Doesn't he have nice freckles? Like Daniel!" I reached up and squeezed Daniel's leg beside me.
"She likes Chicharito, too." Daniel said. I nodded.
"I do." Marisol and Mrs. Castillo widened their eyes and smiled in approval. "And Ochoa."
They laughed.
"You know what it is? These players are like Daniel. They have long noses, and dark hair, and dark skin. That's what I like. Mmm." Marisol looked at Daniel and then back at the commercial of Guillermo Ochoa blocking kick after kick after kick.
"I see what you mean. The nose." She said, and giggled with me.
Outside after the game, Daniel was especially quiet.
"You know about the dark skin and nose like you say?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Middle East mans and Arabs have this. They are everywhere here. Latin people. I think you don't need me very long."
"Oh god, Daniel. Come on. I was just talking about the soccer players. I said they look like you!"
"But..." He kicked some rocks on the gravel drive. "I am not beautiful like those people. And I know what you like. And you are good in all these things. You talking good with everybody."
"I am so fucking SICK of this!"
"Why you angry? Why you being so loud. The people, Barbie, they can hear." He gestured to some kids playing two houses down.
"I'm mad because we talk about the same things over and over and you never change anything."
"Its because I see! I know what you want!"
"I WANT you to trust me! I want you to know that I want only you!"
"I trust you. I know this. But I don't know for future, maybe you change your mind."
"THEN YOU DON'T TRUST ME! Don't you see? Don't you even KNOW what TRUST is?"
He was silent, putting a finger to his mouth and shushing me again. "I can't talk to you like this. Every time, you get crazy. You can't talk about nothing."
I checked myself. "Okay. I can talk."
He looked back at me, and put his hands by his sides.
"What about your aunt and uncle. They have trust. They are married. They are in love. She doesn't have to go to every single soccer game like she's attached to his hip. They are married, they KNOW they will always be together."
"Yeah that's what I want."
"THAT is trust, and you don't trust me."
"No, I think what you are call trust, nobody can have. Nobody can say, 'oh, okay, you can go with your friends, i don't care.' My aunt don't go out with friends at night and leave my uncle."
"Did I say I wanted to do that?" He shook his head.

Epilogue
We chased our tails. It had been ten months. By the time it was over, I had self sabotaged and hurt myself terrifically. It was an internal ache of being told you're not good enough by someone who clearly wanted more than anything to love you. It just wasn't going to work out. I kept thinking, I adjust this, I tweak that. But none of it was good enough.
Those dark days with Daniel Castillo were a life lesson that was extremely hard-learned.
Don't fall in love with someone who doesn't love themself.
Duh.