My Corazón in Arequipa

Alternate Title: ¡Qué Pena! My Querer Hates Me

My last girlfriend in AQP, ‘Milagros’, has learned about this blog and hates me. Not only did I document every step of the way in our mostly sexual relationship, but I also cheated on her from the start. She knows everything and isn’t answering my emails.

This is horrible because I really liked her.

My Swiss roommate Nicolas had seen me with the other girls and noticed a difference with this one. He asked early on, “You like this one, don’t you?” It was obvious. With the others, I’d try to get them out of the house soon after waking up or whatever. With Milagros, I’d try to get her to stay. I had fun hanging out in bed.

The older I get, the less I believe in real love, soul mates, and that Hollywood nonsense. Milagros and I spent days in bed. Days. That’s love. That’s how babies get made. We’d only leave my bedroom for pollo a la brasa when we had to eat.

Milagros didn’t have the brichera issues. A gringo and Peruvian girl get stared at in the streets of Arequipa. Sometimes guys yell insults. I sensed from the other two girlfriends that, even if negative, they enjoyed the attention. Women’s vanity. Milagros, on the other hand, hated it. She was noticeably uncomfortable. She didn’t want to stand out. She’d have been happy to stay alone in bed forever.

Milagros’ genes would be an ideal match. I have height but, unfortunately, I don’t have good genetics for muscularity. I have to work hard and keep a strict diet to stay fine. She, on the other hand, doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her body. She’s super-skinny and strong as shit. A body full of fast-twitch muscle fiber that burns everything she eats. My height and her genes would produce excellent athletes.

How do I know she was so strong, besides the time she slapped the shit out of me? From her hugs. I miss how much she worshiped me. She would spontaneously grab a hold of me and hug as tight as she could. With other girls, I can wriggle out of that easily. With her, I’d have to peel her off by her hands. One day I was eating pollo a la brasa when she wrapped her arms around me like that. I’ll never forget the contrast of how tight she held me and the softest, most delicate, wet kiss she planted on my cheek.

She would stare into my eyes with such intensity during sex, never looking at anything else (unless the position didn’t allow it). Her stare was piercing. The sex was amazing. It seemed every time I’d be getting close, she’d get one first and we’d change positions. So I’d have to start all over. That’s how we’d carry on forever and it was great. I’d be exhausted afterwards.

And afterwards, she’d give me backrubs. Long backrubs that I enjoyed very much. The only thing I didn’t like is when she found a pimple on my back, she’d squeeze it. I scolded her every time but she’d always do it anyway. I always thought this was weird so I never told anybody. In the States, an old gringo I know told me how much he liked Latina women, and how a Panamanian girlfriend of his did that. He considered it her caring for him in every way possible. So I mentioned it to another gringo down here, who confirmed that he’d had Latinas do that also. I guess it’s a good thing – a good thing you won’t find American or European women do. That’s in addition to cleaning your room and folding laundry.

I told Milagros the fact that we had sex the first night we met didn’t matter. However, no guy can eliminate that from his evaluation of a girl’s long-term prospects. I also told her that her age (20 to my 29 at the time) didn’t matter, but it certainly did. 20 year-olds get attached easily.

One night we threw a party and Milagros tried to make me jealous by talking to a German guy for a long time at the end of the night. I was drunk and apparently her plan succeeded. In the morning, she wouldn’t shut the fuck up teasing me: “Tú estabas celoso, tú me quieres mucho.” I wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior if it continued.

Another limiting issue was Milagros’ not being rich. After living down here for a while, a gringo realizes he has access to the upper crust of society. Milagros was the daughter of a Peruvian cop, and she was studying to become a nurse. When you’re all liberalized / first-world / Americanized, you think that stuff doesn’t matter. But after acclimating to Latin America you think, “How could I go out like that?” A daughter of a cop?

So those were the pros and cons. My target age for marriage and family is 35. I told Milagros when I left that at 35 I might come back for her, and I meant every word of it. Have a quick marriage and pump her full of kids. Why not? Well, that option’s off the table. She hates me.


This is us:

This is the song I listened to for hours on repeat while getting drunk after realizing she’d read the blog:

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  1. “I turned it out, tossed it up, and put it on the wall.”

    “Anal sex on the first night I met you…”

    Not the kind of stuff you wanna blog if you’re thinking long term.

    I wonder what Google translate does with “I turned it out, tossed it up, and put it on the wall” in Spanish? Probably gibberish.


  2. I sort of wondered about this in your posts, but never really thought it through. I surprised she hasn’t put a contract out on you Colin. 🙂

    I wouldn’t have thought you were a Nina Simone fan based on some of your references to music in your posts. She did some really good stuff.



  3. @ Johnny – I felt that way when I wrote that. But I liked her more and more as time went on. This post sets the record straight. I definitely liked her a lot more than I let on in this blog.

    @ Mike – Re: Nina – YES! Although I’m not such a fan of her civil rights songs like Mississippi Goddam. Back then I’m sure they were cool, but less relevant for my generation and beyond. Another artist I’m a big fan of: EDITH PIAF. My favorite song of all time is Autumn Leaves, which I could’ve just as easily listened to all night while drinking and thinking about my precious Arequipeña.


  4. Hey, sorry I missed you when I was in Bogota, I had meetings stacked up back to back all week, and then dinners with clients every night.

    As far as your situation, live and learn bro. You’re experiencing stuff and growing. I bet you don’t publicize your next conquest. Or maybe disguise it well enough that nobody could tell who you’re talking about.


  5. Well, looks like your juuuust starting to realize the ramifications of being such a selfish jackass adolescent. I think you should let your thoughtful (if abrasive) side have a little more elbow room and see how you like it. Which includes maybe not using drinking as an excuse to act like an idiot. I mean, sure, I and many guys see things similarly as you do, and enjoy similar exploits (I AM here in latin america) but the difference is most adults know when bragging about and acting out childish exploits will hurt them, and eventually learn to keep them private.

    In the meantime, I’m enjoying reading your blog.


  6. ok, so arequipa learned that gringo frio isn’t just an expression–more interesting question is, what have you gotten outta this experience? far as i can see, not much, so allow me to put a fine, drunken point on the issue:

    i think what i like most about you, colin, is that even though you’re straight, you’re just as much a narcissistic, self-centered arrested-development case as me or any other faggot i’ve ever met–i.e., you couldn’t appreciate [much less reciprocate] true love if it held you in a death-grip from which you had to peel yourself free. good luck with happiness in your future life.

    [at some point i’ll get around to commenting on the “limpiezas” post, if i ever manage to summon the words]


  7. I gonna say just two things that are true… “entre cielo y tierra no hay nada oculto” and “una mujer perdona, pero no olvida”


  8. Another great post – from the heart, and brutally honest.

    This chick sounds amazing. I’m vicariously crushed that she found your dirty little secret (blog) and that it ruined everything.
    “Not an ounce of fat on her”?? Damn.. so refreshingly different from all those latinas with beer bellies. What’s up wit dat, anyway?

    I laughed when I read the part about how she likes to pick your zits. Nearly all of my girlfriends, latinas and americanas alike, have done that to me. It can be annoying, but I find it’s a nice bit of intimacy.

    Finally, I empathize with you about being “found out”. One of the paranoid conspiracy theorists in Vilcabamba Ecuador that I wrote about on my blog just discovered it, and now he’s harassing me to no end. Hell hath no fury like a lunatic conspiracy theorist!


  9. “…If you took all the girls I knew
    When I was single
    And brought them all together for one night
    I know they’d never match
    my sweet imagination
    everything looks WORSE in black and white…”


  10. Col. I think your writing is excellent, mate. I think you’re honest, true and raw. And that’s what people REALLY want to read.

    But I haven’t read all of your posts. And I can see now that sometimes you might have perhaps been TOO raw. I think some things you just need to keep to yourself. I tell the world about plenty of my shenanigans too, but as honest and as raw as I am, I do my best to try and not be disrespectful.

    I feel for you though man. I completely understand what happened here and I believe you truly liked the girl, but the consequences are your own fault. Don’t let this ruin you though. USE it….to help you become wiser and even better in the future.


  11. Once upon a time, I was a famous blogger. I had thousands of readers and would get hundreds of comments. Sometimes I did controversial stuff, sometimes I did creative writing. Women flocked to me because they were my target demographic and because I am smart as fuck on how to accomplish that. Some were really wonderful, some were HOT…

    I hooked up with more chicks because of that than I can admit publicly. I had girls fly here from Florida and Texas to come see me and do me. I had a girl drive from L.A. twice to see me. I did a bit of traveling myself. These were HOT girls who thought I was pretty damn magical…

    but as you can imagine, they were all on the same forum, MY blog, my street-corner… and It created a lot of difficulty. I wrote personal shit a lot and frankly, its tough for a girl to date a guy who blogs openly like that. It’s even worse in your circumstance, getting found out after saying things that were not for her eyes.

    In the end, it cost me dearly, and caused significant pain. I could not be as blatant as you when it comes to ‘bangin whores’ and such, but it basically works out that you have to be more discreet with your blogs, either in its content, or in its exposure, lest your “sins find you out” so to speak.

    As far as being cynical about human fidelity, I am cynical as well. It is WAY too easy to get a woman to step out on her boyfriend or husband (sometimes the married girls are easiest of all) and it has been said that some 20% of kids are being raised by a man who everyone THINKS is the father, when, in fact, he is not. Mom knows. Fuck that, man. I’m supposed to pledge forevers to crazy unstable non-character-having bitches??

    I think that your softer side becomes you, and works well in your blogs. I wouldn’t have you change a thing and FUCK your dumbass haters… but I wouldn’t mind getting a closer look at that side of things- what its like to feel emotions for these Latinas, what emotions they set off and how… what its like with the different backgrounds… as well as the challenge of not letting them get too close and the fallout when they do anyway.

    I know this will be a relevant issue for me to address when I come to live in Colombia as well.

    Good post here, man.

    oh, and Nina rules.


  12. “That’s love. That’s how babies get made.”

    I love this part. Hint: babies get made by putting sperm into a vagina which is not the same thing as love. Reading you write about love keeps reminding me of this scene in Anchorman:

    Brian Fantana: I think I was in love once.
    Ron Burgundy: Really? What was her name?
    Brian Fantana: I don’t remember.
    Ron Burgundy: That’s not a good start, but keep going…
    Brian Fantana: She was Brazilian, or Chinese, or something weird. I met her in the bathroom of a K-Mart and we made out for hours. Then we parted ways, never to see each other again.
    Ron Burgundy: I’m pretty sure that’s not love.
    Brian Fantana: Damn it.

    Your idea of love is a woman who will worship you, give you backrubs, do your laundry, and produce athletic children. Oh, and not talk too much, I guess, since you “rarely find [yourself] at all interested in women’s ideas or opinions.” Oh, and if you cheat on her and she finds out, it will be bad not because she’s heartbroken but because you really liked her and now she won’t worship you anymore.

    The cognitive dissonance involved in maintaining this level of narcissism and misogyny with your self-conception as a “romantic” is truly impressive.


  13. This post brings back painful memories of a girl who I broke her heart and ended up regretting it.

    It hurts bro, and the pain is real. There’s no way around it or easy way out.

    Just keep drinking and banging chicks. Oh wait…


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