A few of my dear friends, primarily Priscila and Desiree, use a term to describe what I like to refer to as my “Mexi Moments.”
Now these Mexi moments are always triggered by a dear Puerto Rican friend and often take place after I have just listened to some good ol’ Vicente Fernandez, or Ramon Ayala on the VERY Mexican nights. What leads to those musical choices? Love.
Nothing more. Nothing less. Have I been in love multiple times? Nope. Just once. Yet, I still feel the urge to blame that four letter word for my need to run to mi esquina. I blame this on being Mexican. We are emotional and we know it. Whether it be pure joy after a promotion at work or pure misery after a break up…we are emotional. What better emotion to shoulder the tears rolling down my cheeks (I’ve learned to invest in the best waterproof eyeliner) than love? Everyone claims to have felt it at one time or another, so I believe it is completely relate-able…and people tend to slip sympathy my way instead of just plain dirty comments about being Mexican
Do I mind being told, “Ash, you’re acting Mexi again” when I get those sad eyes when I let my mind wander to a distant memory of that one guy, or many guys, I let get away? Do I mind glares from best friends as I play Vicente Fernandez’s “Volver, Volver” on our way out to latin night at our favorite spots? No. Why? ‘Cause I’ve found myself more times in mi esquina than wandering around outside of it.
Oh, and the origin of esquina? One night, after some help from a dear Puerto Rican friend, I was separated myself from the group and sat out on the steps of an apartment building around 3 am. After being coerced back into the apartment, I was sent to the kitchen…a corner of the kitchen to be exact. That was my first night in mi esquina.
Y volver, volver, volver a tus brazos otra vez,
Llegare hasta donde estes
Yo se perder, yo se perder, quiero volver, volver,