Janis kissed me.

After months ignoring me, when we finally met again, she simply walked up to me, pushed me against a wall and kissed me.

At the backyard of a nightclub, in a warm October night, I watched Janis walk away and found myself unable to call out to her.

I began to cry.

---

I knew Janis liked me.

Honestly, that was rather obvious. She did try to kiss me once before, that night when we went up to the roof together to look for stars. I remember her bringing her face so close to mine that our lips were almost touching. I might have had doubts about her feelings for me before then, but there was no denying what that was.

The “me” of a couple of years ago would have kissed Janis that night. Really. I did want to kiss her. I mean, Janis was fun, witty, kind, and she seemed to be the kind of person I could have deep, meaningful conversations with. Those were all things I valued in potential partners. And let’s be fair, she was a beauty too. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to her. But still, when she tried to kiss me that night, I was frightened and I walked away.

I’ve dated a few people in the past. Not one of those relationships survived more than a few months. The thing is that Zoe, Sophie and I were never in one place for too long. And whenever we move, those people stay behind.

Zoe, Sophie and I.

Family.

A few years ago it used to be just us two, my sister and I. For several years, since we left our hometown, we’d been looking for another place we could call home. Such a place, so far, we hadn’t found: once we’d stayed somewhere for a while, the heart grew restless and filled with longing and we found ourselves needing to move away, to push back those feelings. It’s not that we liked to move. Most of the time it was a bother. Traveling was something we needed, rather than wanted.

We’ve lived at all sorts of places. The decision to move always came somewhat of the blue, when an opportunity showed up. For that reason, we kept our luggage to a minimum. Back then, we’d rarely stay in a single place for more than two years.

At some point during our travels, Zoe got pregnant. Soon afterward, Sophie was born and the little devil turned out to be the most lovely addition to our little family I could have wished for. She had never known home, like we did. Several times I’ve wished we could settle down somewhere, raise the girl properly, let her have a normal childhood and a home.

And that applies to me too. Though I was not a child anymore, it would be good to have a home, to form long-lasting bonds with people, not having to leave them behind.

That is to say, I didn’t want to keep having my heart broken, like I had with Juan and Lucia.

Juan was my first love. I met him some time after we moved to Montevideo. Zoe and I had just left home and we arrived at that city not really expecting we’d have to move again. So I got careless. He was sweet and I let myself get carried away in those feelings.

Eventually, though, we did feel the need to move, Zoe and I.

I was devastated. At that time it really felt as if the world had come to an end. For me, at least. I was torn, for even though I could not bear to stay, it still hurt to go. Fortunately (maybe?), my grieving was short-lived, as a few weeks later I found out through the internet that he’d been cheating on me with other girls. Boy, was I mad.

But that was many years ago, we were pretty much children. Nowadays I just laugh when thinking of it.

Lucia was a different matter.

We met when I was arriving at Salvador. I fell head-over-heels for the girl. Everything just felt right. We cared deeply for each other. And for a while, as I lived there, it really felt as if I’d found a place to belong.

Then one day, several months later, something serious happened. I got involved in a fight, someone died. It was a very disturbing night. After that, I slowly began to realize how much I had been deceiving myself. Salvador was nothing like home to me, it hadn’t felt like that from the very beginning. The only thing that kept me there was my love for Lucia, nothing more. As time passed, the feeling of displacement became unbearable.

I told Lucia that.

She didn’t understand at first. We got into a bit of an argument and our relationship was strained. Eventually, when Zoe also began to talk about moving, I managed to make Lucia understand.

She cried.

I cried.

Our last night together was bittersweet. She didn’t come meet me at the bus terminal. I understood. She couldn’t bear to see me leave. Maybe it was for the best. Had she been there, I might have stopped myself from going and that was something I just couldn’t do. It would hurt me to stay.

That's when we moved to Rio. Not too long after that, I met Janis.

My heart, at that point, was in a complete disarray. I still loved Lucia. I don’t think I’ll ever forget her completely. And as so, I knew I’d be a mistake to just go and fall in love again. In my head, I went after Janis because I thought she was an interesting girl and I wanted to have her as a friend. Dating… I’d rather avoid it. But then that night happened and we began to develop feelings for each other. And suddenly, it was like Lucia all over again. I couldn’t go through that. Not again. I still wasn’t over the pain of our separation.

I thought it would be better if I stopped those feeling before they began to blossom. If I did that, then maybe Janis and I could actually be friends.

I messed up.

I indulged myself in Janis’ company and maybe even took advantage of those growing feelings. I felt so comfortable around her. She helped fill the gap in me that Lucia had left. At some point, though I did not realize it, her feelings had already bloomed. Our relationship was like glass. When I tried to take those romantic feelings out of it, the glass broke.

Still, I was naïve and thought that I could mend it. I should have known better. It’s no wonder she never replied to my letters. For her, there was no going back. We could not go back to being just friends. It hurt her.

Truth is, I had only been thinking about my own needs and feelings.

That’s why she kissed me so forcefully at the party. Her feelings had been crushed by rejection. My presence there only brought all of that back to hurt her.

Sitting alone at the rooftop of my building, the same place we’d spent our first night together, I began to cry.

“God, what have I done?”

I should have told her.

I should have told Janis I too have feelings for her.

It was too late now.

---

The next few days were hard for me. It took me a lot of effort to actually smile at my presentations. To perform the dances we’d planned without breaking down and crying. I still managed to do it, despite my heart. I guess at some point during my traveling, I’d managed to grow up and learned to separate work from my personal matters.

Sophie was improving too. She had already enough skill as a child to match myself as a teenager. Dancing came naturally to her. In that respect, she was the opposite of me. Though I liked to think of dancing as my private world, the truth is that I struggled to go through the routine without making mistakes. For that reason, I could never feel completely at ease dancing.

I felt at ease with Janis, once. I miss her. I wish I had done things differently. Sure, it would hurt when we had to part, but that didn’t mean I had to run away from love every time. And if that day ever came, when I needed to move away and leave her behind, well, we’d deal with it once it did. I knew that now.

On a Wednesday morning, a little over two weeks after the party, someone knocked at my door.

I opened. There was a girl on the other side.

"You are?" I asked.

"I'm Catherine. Is Janis here?" §