Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro: 26 °C, hot and sunny.
It is Sunday, and the second half of this toxic weekend. I had a misunderstanding with Yasmin yesterday, and today, the second part of the weekend will be with her mother; however, I did not know this yet.
The morning began well; I exercised early at the end of Leme. Afterwards, I went to the street fair around Sezerdelo Correia Square in the heart of Copacabana to buy lettuce, arugula, tomatoes, and fruit to prepare a salad for the rest of the week. I then stopped by the supermarket to restock on olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and other home necessities.
Everything was going well until about 10 am when I received a voice message from Yasmin’s mother, Nalva. First, I would need to explain the situation to you. I have lived at this address in Copacabana for the last two years.
The owner is a friend and ex-pupil of mine from when I had the school. She had offered me this flat to rent more than two years ago, and I turned her down; however, the second time, it was a better deal with better conditions, so we agreed.
The cosy one-bedroom flat has an additional maid’s bedroom that I converted into Yasmin’s private space. The main living room boasts an enormous window which allows natural light to flood in and provides an uninterrupted view of the adjacent street, along with a partial view of Copacabana beach and the sea.
The living room and bedroom receive morning sun, so the flat gets quite hot early in the summer. I have to turn on the air conditioner, but it is enjoyable for the rest of the year. The flat also has a nice, pleasant vibe, nothing sophisticated or flashy, just a calming energy that most people say they feel when they visit me.
The landlady has informed us that, after two years, she will need her flat back this month, as she will be leaving the flat she rents to move into her own flat in Copacabana that she has bought.
She will need the flat that I am living in for either her mother or her daughter. Of course, it is her flat, and she can do whatever she wants. Besides, I do not want to inconvenience anyone, so I must get out as soon as possible.
At that time, we had arranged for me to leave in either March or April. March has passed, and we are already in April. This was in November of last year, and over the previous 3 or 4 months, my mother had been calling me every week to talk about her will and when I could go to England to sign some papers. I have a brother, and, like most families, we have problems, confusion, differences, etc. But this is another story.
This year, 2023, I will have to go to England for 2 or 3 months to sort out some family matters. It is also an opportunity to catch up with friends and family and reminisce by visiting places I used to visit as a child. It is also essential for me to go through a detox period outside of Brazil.
It would be good to have some time out of Brazil, far from the confusion. It has been 24 years since I last went to England so that I may need some recovery time. So, I must get out and go to England.
My credit card and documents could be better and healthier, so I need time to prepare for England. It would be difficult to rent another flat now and then shortly after going to England for a few months.
I had the brilliant idea that even before talking to my ex-wife, it was causing me concern and insomnia. The plan was to live with Yasmin and my ex-wife for 3 or 4 months before going to England.
Nalva, my second ex-wife, is a short woman with short black hair and, nowadays, a little plump but with an attractive face.
When I met her more than 20 years ago, she was slim, attractive, and soft-spoken. My 12 years living with Nalva were exceedingly difficult; when Yasmin was a baby, she gave up her job to look after her until she was five.
I had to pay 100% for everything then, and I still do. What hurts me most is that I do not mind paying, as it is for my daughter and the well-being of everyone. What I do mind is Nalva’s ungratefulness during our time together.
Besides her ingratitude, her arrogance on all levels regarding her position and mine regarding Yasmin was highly toxic and hurtful to Yasmin and me. The fact is, I will have to go back and live with this person for a brief period, which worries me a little.
So, returning to Sunday morning, the intention was to move into Nalva’s flat in mid-April. In the back of my mind, I wanted to delay this. As I said, I am not looking forward to the next few months.
So, this morning, I received a voice message from Nalva telling me to move in as soon as possible, as she has a lot of financial debt and would prefer I move in quickly to help her out.
When I received this message, I automatically flipped and panicked at the same time. I messaged her back, saying I did not want to move into an unstable situation, as I was trying to save money and resolve many things I would have to do before going to England.
As soon as she had received my message, she promptly sent me back a ton of abusive messages telling me how wrong I was and that she was doing me a favour. When she is angry, she is the kind of person who is furious because of one point, but uses this one point to allow herself to bring up a whole load of other issues, both past and present, to reinforce her point, but underneath, it is a way to abuse and hurt that person.
The only thing that I can remember after receiving her second message was all the toxicity I had contact with for so many years in the past, and then suddenly, it was all there again, in my face and under my skin.
I did not feel well for the rest of the day. I lay around and tried to watch a film, but concentrating wasn’t easy. I went to bed, knowing that tomorrow would be better after a good night’s sleep.
In bed by 10 pm.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading my blog. Check out my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments.
Richard
