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In wonderland

“I'd rather not”

Tag Archives: personal

February 15, 2013 One year later, I haven’t changed my opinion about this

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Last year I wrote this:

It was Valentine’s Day today, and I didn’t celebrate it!

I didn’t celebrate it because I didn’t want to.

Well, well, before jumping at my throat accusing me of  fake indifference and of staying home and crying with my imaginary cat on my lap, you have to know I have a boyfriend I didn’t even see today. We haven’t talked much either. We didn’t want to meet today. Yes, on purpose. I just met a friend instead, and he went snowboarding.

I didn’t offer myself a box of chocolates or a greeting card, I didn’t receive balloons from myself and I definitely haven’t been in a flower shop today.

Because every day, I love. Today, not so much.

If I feel like buying him chocolate, I will, even if  it’s not a special day for love. If I feel like making love with candles and wine, I will, any day of the year. If I feel like  telling him the three special words, I don’t need a special day but to be ready and to mean it.

I don’t like today because I see couples everywhere; the girls have flowers in their hands, they hold hands and kiss every two meters. They don’t care anymore (because today is a BIG day), that yesterday he insulted her and she acted like a total crazy person.  They don’t care that a week ago he flirted with her best friend, and that she got drunk at that party 3 days ago and offered many horny teenagers a show they won’t quickly forget : striptease.

It’s a bit like every couple’s problems take a break:” Today it’s Valentine’s Day.  Let’s act all lovely and sweet with each other; from tomorrow on though, you’re dead to me!… Oh, and you better buy a nice present this year!”

Maybe I’m exaggerating.  It’s been known for this to happen. But even though my examples are very rough, at their core, they’re true.

What were my reasons for not celebrating?  

1. In my country it’s an imported holiday, meaning that we just took it because we liked it; oh, and because businesses flourish in this period.

2. I’m stubborn; Just because I don’t want to celebrate love when EVERYBODY else does it, I might just make a nice card or buy him a chocolate tomorrow. Tomorrow everybody will have forgotten about Valentine’s Day, “so it’s just our day for love, honey”.

3. It’s so commercial. AT LEAST if lovers around the world would just give handmade things. Something you put thought and work in values way more than some roses which will die in 2 days. (He came at me on Saturday; I made him muffins. He loved them). But only when I see how today, the flower shop on my street remained open till 22… When usually closes at 20.

Money, money, money. And I’m sorry, but money can ruin even the most romantic day.

 

Today, he stood in the kitchen and I in the living room. He studied, I did several things. Alone. This is no way of spending ANY day, either.

 

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November 26, 2012 Confusing dreams and confusing encounters

 

I’m confused. But that’s nothing new, is it?

Saturday we went to our hometown. Each of us at his home. We wanted to go out, and he came and took me from home, like in the old days. And then I was mocking him and flirting with him, and everything was like before. The butterflies, the feelings…

That sort of happiness I used to get from being with him, from looking at his smile.

And then, at night, sleeping alone in my bed from home, a bigger bed than ours, and more spacious for sure, since I was sleeping alone, who have I dreamed of?

G. A year later, a year after our last conversation, a year after being happy with E., I was kissing G. in my dream. And let me tell you, I haven’t had even the …you know, respect, to wake up from such a “cheat dream”. NO. I enjoyed it so much that my parents had to wake me up, because I’ve slept for 10 hours.

I was confused. Thoughts I haven’t had for a year came up to me then. And then, going out for a tea with two of my friends, who have I seen on the other side of the road?

G. I was sure it wasn’t him, but I was staring at him. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and I had to stare, to be sure.

You know, if he wouldn’t have also stared at me, that guy, it would have been okay. But we were both going, in contra-sense, 10 meters distance, with our heads turned to each other.

And if he wasn’t G., why was he staring at me?

My friends were walking normally next to me, when I really had to stop this staring and said “what the fuck?!”. They had no idea. They wanted to follow him, (like we used to do as children, probably), but the rational part of me realized that if that guy was G. :

1) He would have yelled/waved/said something

2) I would have hugged him and cried, in the state I was in, so better not

And, I have realized I have chosen E. rationally.

So,

3) There’s no point in digging up the past; not when you know you have taken the best decision there were.

I’m still nostalgic, though…

 

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November 23, 2012 One year later

 

This is what I have written exactly one year ago : I have some explaining to do to my little blog, from my heart and brain, with love

Isn’t it ironic, me throwing with words like “he’s not right for me” and one year later we’re still and not only together, but also moved together and cooking soup, hugging in bed and tickling each other?

I guess he was “righter” for me than I thought.

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November 10, 2012 It’s difficult to be happy/ Adulthood and shortcomings, here I come.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I had managed to keep my imagination from running, with E., in our relationship, for almost a year now, until now. But is it my imagination, or I’m seeing things clearly?

It’s difficult to be happy.

What if chance/life never lets us get a grip? What if when we receive/get/acquire something, life pushes other things at us? What if life gives us something while taking something?

E. seems to me, and I said SEEMS, until I have proof it’s not my imagination, distant and keeping thoughts/things from me. Important thoughts, important things.

Yesterday I had some friends over + my sister, we fed them (haha) and made them drink mulled wine. It feels so natural for me to play the host’s role.

And after that, we went to the market and bought some food. Then we wanted to take a walk, we’re close to the train station, and after it there’s the Olympic ice rank. :) Skating will always be, in my opinion, a symbol of us. How he forced me to skate, how I listened all winter to Joni Mitchell’s River, how I knew all along that if I fell he would catch me… and how I didn’t want to let him go.

With aprox. 4 euros in my pocket, the last money I had, we read the prices: we were short of 4 euros.

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November 9, 2012 The first thoughts this first week

 

He has access now to my blog, if he wants it. That would mean, it’s true, that he wouldn’t really respect my privacy. But my laptop is here on the table all the time, and the blog is not well-hidden. Oh well.

I expected us to grow apart since we moved together. I expected us to get tired of being together, but I go around the house and sometimes I smell his clothes just because I like his smell, I wait for him to come home.

I love him more now. Some sort of love I never experienced before, a “my man” love. I look at him and try to hide what I believe to be a spark in my eyes, when I look at him.

I thought I would have a hard time sharing the money,  buying food from my money, and so on. It seems I’m less individualistic than I thought, because I have no problem with these…

He fought with his parents Sunday, before coming here. Before moving with me. Because his parents disagreed with this step, his father got drunk and his mother was crying.  As a consequence, he doesn’t want to visit him too soon.

I look at him and see something’s broken inside of him, and feel like telling him how sorry I am I ever brought this over him. Like I was the only one wanting it… but he wanted it too, at least this is what he told me.  But I feel sorry for him. In the same time I’m sure we’ve done the right thing.

Because for me, everything seems right.

Yesterday we fought for the first time. I asked him why was he less sweet to me than before. He said he’s individualistic. That I, for instance, have lived at the hostel too, in a room with other 3 people, but he never did. Never in his adult life anyway.

I don’t know.

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