Waiting. Again.

This time is different.
Scratch that.
Always is different.
Now is ... different.
Yes, I daydream. And I'm making some sort of scenarios in my head.
But I'm really trying not to.
Not to think too much of him.
Not to expect something.
Although ...
Although we finished each other sentences.
Although we knew exactly how the other feels.
What he means, how does it feel like, what the meaning is.
We both have scars and luggage. 
And are fully aware of it.
For now, there is no us.
It's me and him.
And tea.
And talk.
And I'm trying not to sleep through the day waiting for his text if we will meet today.
I'm so trying to go on with my life that I'm left paralyzed.
Frankly, there is nothing much going on in my life.
A lot of waiting, hoping, wishing, procrastinating, blaming, feeling bad and sorry.
The same old depression wagon. 
Not that I'm depressed. At least not so much as I used to be.
Nevermind.
I am fully aware he will not save me. This is up to me.
I am fully aware that he is not an answer to my prayers.
He is a man, with his charms and faults. He is who he is. 
And, the thing that scares me ... so far I really like him the way he is. 
And, the thing that scares me even more ... I like that I am me around him. 
I put my glasses away and look him straight into the eyes.
No more masks.
And now ... waiting. 

The pledge

You said you've got my back.
You said we are close.
You promised.
You pledged.
I relied onto you.
Waited for you.
Been there for you.
You said you haven't had such a great birthday for the last couple of years.
You said you haven't felt loved until now.
You said a lot of things.
And I ... I believed you.
I believed everything you said to me.
I believed you.
I truly believed you.
Nevertheless I knew you were not the golden boy you didn't want to be but gladly took the part of it.
Nevertheless I knew you were a manipulative liar.
I believed you.
That's why I resent you so much for forgeting about me.
For forgetting about everything you said.
For those faked smiles and pretended care.
For all those manipulative moments when you tried to get back on my good side.
For all those moments you tried to influence me with your blueish eyes.
I resent that.
You made me believe I mean so much to you.
You made me believe I count.
You made me believe I'm smart and beautiful.
And then you just forgot about me.
That hurts.
A lot. 

Under influence, yet again

I had some alcohol.
It is, what it is.
Had a great night with friends.
Talks, laughter, alcohol.
Feelings.
About myself, for a change.
Then, I came home.
And saw pictures of cute pandas.
And remember. 
And felt anger.
Just this - you could have had it all with me.
But.
I couldn't have had it all with you.
Simple as that.
You are not enough for me.
Simple as that.
I smile.
I smile.
And I'm fine.

Still ...

Still not OK.
Getting on my nerves.
Why still lingering on?
Came across some photos ... 
But, it's my pain. My mind. My feelings. 
You are done with me. You are with her.
I am not her.
Will never be.
And you ... you will never be with me.
So simple.
So why ... why still this pain.
Those photos ...
Made me realise ... 
Move on girl, it's your last call ....
Move on ...

Missing.

The talks we had.
The thoughts we shared.
Our secrets.
The touches.
The time.
Being close.
I miss that.
Knowing, you're a complete idiot and a fool, doesn't help at the moment.
Realising, you're not the one, either.
Maybe, because I'm lonely.
Maybe, because I'm letting the last atoms of you out of me. 
It feels sad. 

Waiting for the click

So here I am again, waiting.
The click.
The famous click.
The click, after which nothing will be the same.
All will be different.
All will be good.
All will be forgiven, forgotten, let go.
I will be a whole new person.
Stronger, more confident. 
High self-esteem.
More beautiful.
The click.
In the meanwhile, I do nothing, of course, but waiting.
I stopped with the meditation.
I stopped with running.
I just manage through the day.
I did a lot of shopping lately.
Emptiness.
Pure emptiness.
Void.
Waiting.
When will the click come.

Drunken thoughts

After a looong time had a glass of wine. Or two.
I have really big glasses for wine. Really big. Because, you know, I'm a big girl and stuff like that.
Actually, he gave me those glasses. 
Appropriate.
Just a few days ago I finally gave in and went for a drink and lunch with him.
Innevitable question, what happened, why did I ignore him all these past couple of months.
Simple truth.
He just wasn't there for me. 
I needed him. 
He wasn't there.
Yes, he fell madly in love (this too shall pass).
But ... he just wasn't there.
And when he was, this one or maybe two times ... he just wanted to make sure that I'm OK about him and him being in love.
Yes, I am OK about him.
No, I was not OK about me then.
To short things up, he said he was sorry.
Like so many times before.
Middle-age crisis is a bitch. 
No fast car, no younger girlfriend, no dancing course can give you back what you have lost for good.
I have stepped back.
My work here is done.

Not angry anymore.

Today is sort of Alanis Morissette day. Have her Best Of album on repeat.
Still, You Oughta Know is my favourite song.
The lyrics.
The line:"Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity?" is lately a lot on my mind.
It's not like we have been together, had a (love) relationship or something like that.
But you did called me a friend, a close friend.
And then, puff, it was all gone.
You just weren't there. 
Still expected of me to behave the same, to fall at your wink, to always be there for you.
As I was there for you throughout the summer. And fall. And winter. All the times you felt lonely.
I'm not bitter anymore because you moved on, found love and you're happy.
It's just ... you weren't there ... you are not here ... and you still think everything is OK.
You still expect me to feel highly of you. To "worship" you as I did before.
Think again.

Obsessions.

Figuring it out.
Changing one obsession with another.
Changing obsession with him for another.
I can perfectly see how I'm slipping into it.
I see it. Clearly.
Nevertheless, I'm slipping into it.
Starting to drown.
You know, when you need to stop it, but you still doing it.
All the fantasies, all the thoughts.
You say, stop it. Stop it right now, it does you no good.
You stop. For a minute. For couple of hours.
But then, he says he's trying to emotionaly blackmail you. Like, in a joke.
And then you say, fuck it.
You want emotional blackmail? I'll give you one. It will eat you up alive.
Subtle. Over time.
Don't play with me boy. You did me too much harm already.
I let you do this to me. 
But, here's the line. 
You shouldn't have tried it. 
Really, you shouldn't have.
I planted a seed. It will take some time to grow it. 
And when you realise it ... I will be gone.
I will no longer be even slightly involved in your life.
Not even to see it how it hits you.
You just weren't there for me. Not when I needed you the most.
Playing with my emotions. Manipulating. 
So not right.
It's not getting even. Or mad. 
It's just letting something happen.
Obsession.
You will feel what I mean.

Fitting in.

I miss writting. And I miss me.
Still tired, still overwhelmed with stuff going on inside my head.
Gained weight. Feeling sorry for myself.
Got a new loan. Paid some dues back.
He is utterly happy in his private life. Miserable at work. 
I am miserable privately and at work.
You can't really tell. I do smile a lot. And make fun. And make silly faces.
But I started to cry a lot, at home, in the silence of my flat.
Realised, the cool kids are cruel. And I just don't belong there.
Realised, I don't have much time left for the things I really need to do and change.
The pain in my chest is increasing. 
I get dizzy a lot.
A pile of worries gets over me.
One day I'm totally focused and disciplined.
One day I'm just a lazyass. Not moving a thing about myself and my life.
The breaking point is coming.
It started with a movie. Now with the book upon which said movie was made.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I totally get it. I totally feel it. 
It scares me.
And it comforts me. I am not alone with this thoughts. These mind games.
Still refusing to make important changes. Still making excuses.
And still dreaming about a better life.
Well, better life will happen when the changes will be made. 
So.
I need to finish this book. And get some sleep. 
Tomorrow is the final day of my meditation class. I will get a certificate.
And I will start the lessons over again. 
Because I have skipped them too many. 
And in this class, the class of Life, skipping doesn't really pay up. 

Edge.

Have new haircut. 
It's a girls thing. Something goes wrong, you have all these feelings, emotions, ups and downs, and suddenly you have a new haircut and everything is OK, world peace is finally here and unicorns are dashing through the sky. 
Not quite.
I would really love to see unicorns dashing through the sky, really.
Still, what's here is my new haircut. Short. Very short. Blond. Edgy. Totally edgy.
It's just a mask, honestly. 
A mask to hide my vulnerability at the moment. 
Yes, I'm working on my feelings and fears and my emotions, handling the situations and myself.
But still, I need some protection, feeling too fragile right now.
And feeling fragile while coping with stressful work and people is just wrong combination.
Hence the mask.
The hair. The darker lipstick. The high heels. 
The indifferent attitude.
The "I'm quite bored right now" expression on my face.
This gets me through the working day.
Then ... I start to fall apart ... no more energy to keep the mask on.
So I become distracted. Tired. Not sociable. 
I get irritated over little things. Dramatizing. 
Confused. Not quite here/there. 
It may look like I'm in my zen place, but actually I'm in my utter chaos.
Nevertheless, things are looking up.
The sun is back. The cold is gone.
There are certain dreams I'm having, certain signs I'm getting.
Things are looking up to be great again.

No more steaks. (it's not about the meat)

So, yeah. He's in love. 
Great way of finding out that your intuition and clairvoyance has finally kicked in.
Well, at least I know now that I'm gifted.
And that is something.
I guess this means less and less hanging out.
Even now he totally neglected me. 
I am angry. And sad.
Angry because how dares he neglect me. All the things we were supposed to do together ... he better not doing them with her.
Sad because ... well, although it's perfectly clear to me, we are not meant for each other ... the tiny tiny hope was there. And because I was hoping to meet someone special before him.
It just doesn't seem fair to me, that's all.
I deserve love and happiness too, so why ... why am I still in this painful period of ups and downs and pain and thinking and ... why ...
It doesn't seem fair to lose him.
And no, I'm not being overly dramatic. I will lose him. It was, after all, also a part of my decision, to let go of him, for my own good.
But in my mind, letting go would mean I meet someone else and he fades away.
I should be the one to be back on my feet first, not him.
Yes, I will lose him. 
Even the friendship. We were friends. Close friends. His own words.
Also the talks, the hanging out. Him taking me to great meals. Ohhh, all the steaks. And wine. And the talks. And me flirting with the food and with him. 
I feel like all this is taken away from me and it's not making me quite happy. 
But I guess ... I guess there's something better prepared for me, right?
Someone ... better ...
(steak is optional ... red wine too ... just ... just meet me ... and be here for me .... )

Being ... me ...

I'm almost sure, he has found me here.
Almost sure both of them did find me here.
They're both a bit stalker-ish. 
So, well, yes, this does explain something.
Nevertheless.
I have managed, in my best effort to be cool and collected and not pushy, to leave the impression of being too cold.
I may have said something that might be understood as if I'm not that interested anymore.
I am interested as far there is interest on the other side.
It's just me being me.
Over-trying to hush my enthusiasm and excitement.
Over-trying to look casual and busy and as if I'm not that involved.
Just to make sure I don't push people to run away.
Well, I might have done that nevertheless.
(here comes the part of mentioning coitus sideways and something about a chainsaw)
Oh, the games people play and then I feel I need to play them to although that's just not me and I really don't like these games and I like honesty and because of that I turn out to be just too naive and think that if I feel like this and people tell me they feel like this it's all set and done and we have a deal.
*breathe out*
Well, usually that's just not the case.
Yes, I'm naive. I believe what people tell me. I see no reason why would they lie to me, considering the situation. 
I guess I need to sleep this one through, right.
It's just ... I really like being me, now.
(Making sense: none)

Not there yet.

Well, taking it really slow.
Maybe not taking it at all.
Maybe ... maybe, yet again, I got carried away.
All excited and happy and everything, but ... nothing happened since.
Next week. Next week, for sure.
I know, it is OK this way.
Everything is just the way it's supposed to be.
Just my fragile heart wishes things to be different.
Wishes kisses and hugs and sweet little nonsenses being whispered in my ear.
I have made a decision.
I have made my call.
Just getting there ... takes time and effort.
And maybe, most likely, as it looks now, he is not in the picture.
And maybe, for sure, I am here on my own. 
And will be on my own for some time.
Just to figure myself out.
I made a promise to myself. 
For once ... for once I need this for myself.
Just not there yet.

How slow is slow?

So this thing that somehow, hm, started?
And we agreed to taking it slow?
Yeah, it is slow.
Slooow.
But, I have realised it's better for me to stop complaining.
After all, I have made one tiny decision and this involves, hm, quite some restraining from my side.
From his also, but he doesn't know it yet.
So, taking it slow is just fine with me.
Just need to pass the memo to my heart and imagination.
They're really hard to reach lately.
I wonder why.

The voice. The pain.

I was just minding my own business, watching the Grammys.
Then Alicia Keys came and started singing.
And it struck me.
Struck me harder than hard.
When in a split second, a tone in her voice brought me back.
Back to my old apartment, to the nights when I was waiting for him.
That tone in her voice, that tone.
It reminded me of all the emotions. Of all the pain. 
It reminded me of my madness and infatuation.
Nevertheless how well I am right now in regardst to him, the pain struck me.
The tone, the voice, rounded all that year, all that what was and wasn't between us.
The night. The smell of his skin. His kisses.
My nails in his back. 
My screaming.
His leaving. 
Another lonely night waiting.
And him leaving.
Words stuck in the air or in my heart.
And Alicia Keys playing in the background.
Well, I guess I won't be listening to her anytime soon.

Confused.

It is all OK.
Just got a message. Clear message. Not conventional though.
And I'm not quite sure how I feel about it.
Of course I did quite a share of over-thinking, over-analysing, over-dramatising. 
Over-everything.
I even had a minor breakdown. Tears and heavy breathing and stuff.
I felt like the Universe has lied to me.
But, it turns out that I, in my best effort and wish, managed to force the misleading answer.
Hence blaming the Universe and feeling like shit.
Well, it is not quite OK yet. 
I guess it will be after a good night sleep.
And will be after ... after a while. 
I need this thing to be done. 
Just don't know how yet.

I saw him today.

Briefly.
Just long enough to remind me.
His eyes.
His look.
His energy.
The feeling I get around him.
That was enough.
Keep reminding myself, slowly.
Slowly.
Slowly kissing him. 
Just kissing.
Slowly.

Dreaming of the first kiss.

10+ years of age.
French movie, La Boum.
Sophie Marceau as a teenage girl getting her first kiss.
Me dreaming of getting my first kiss.
Wishing I was someone else, somewhere else.
Wishing I was someone else.
This movie gave me comfort and maybe a bit of unrealistic hope and wishes.
Dreaming of my first kiss.
Dreaming. 

First kiss

The waiting game.

It's all good. We're adults. 
It is obvious that we would like to see each other again, soon, now, immediately.
But, well, there's this game, you see.
The waiting game.
Not sure who invented it. Or why, to be honest.
It's nerve wrecking game. At least for me it is. Remember, my patience issues.
So, yes, basically there's this waiting for the next move.
For a contact. 
A word. A wave. A smile. A text. A something. A sign of life.
Guys are always so busy. 
And girls always wait. At least I did.
Too afraid to text him. Not to look like I'm desperate.
Or to jinx it all. 
Maybe ... maybe ... hm ... something happened from the last time until now. Something that changed his mind. <insert panic mode>
Naah, he was totally charmed by me. <insert smug smile remembering the kisses and the look in his eyes>
But, nevertheless, somehow, not planning or wanting to, I'm still waiting.
I know this game all too well. One would thought has learned the lesson.
One is still learning.
So, what now.
Nothing, go to sleep. 
Have a good talk to yourself. 
Remember, no expectations, no planning, no scenarios. You oughta learned that lesson. 
No?
Still planning? Well, it's not quite planning, it's daydreaming. 
Tomejto tomato.
Stop it. Seriously. Stop it. 
<can't hear you. na na na na. can't hear you>
Oh. 
Well, let's go to bed. Try to sleep. Try to empty the mind. 
Void.
Void sounds great.
Waiting.
Oh well.

Floating.

He told me yesterday, that I can't even imagine what my kiss did to him.

The kiss we had that summer night, in front of my house. 

The kiss that left me breathless and walking on air.

The kiss I still claim was the best I ever had.

He told me that I can't even imagine how my kiss shook him. 

There were some other words put there to describe the kiss.

We kissed again.

The feeling came back.

I can't remember the last time I smiled that much. 

Everything he or I did, I smiled.

He smiled.

Oh, the look in his eyes.

And all the kissing we did.

And all the smiling.

Oh, and how scared I am right now.

For all the reasons you can think of.

For being damaged, broken.

For being older.

For being chaotic.

For being self-destructive.

I don't want to ruin this. Or jinx it.

I would like to scream out that we kissed and it was fucking awesome. 

But I won't.

For the first time in my life, I will try to keep this for me.

I will try to keep him for me.

One step at the time.

We got all the time in the world.

There's no need to speed things up.

I just want to lay in his arms and kiss him. 

And being kissed by him.

Fail.

Now, I got this.
Failing stuff.
I'm pretty good at this. 
This is one thing I can surely accomplish.
And finish.
Failing.
And as much as I try not to fail, somehow I manage to.
It's not something I'm so proud of.
It just happens.
I've developed a sarcastic kind of humorous philosophy about it.
Doesn't quite help.
I know, it's me. I have a serial malfunction in my system.
It's called auto-sabotage. 
Why be happy and succeed when you can fail at any given moment.
Happiness is so overrated.
So is success.
Failure is the thing.
Now, seriously.
Lately I've been failing miserably at almost every step that I tried to take into my new direction.
I failed at my promises, my plans, myself.
What's even worse, in most cases the instigator of my failure was he. 
But that's a different story.
Let's just say I'm tired of failing and self-destruction.
It ends. Now.

Me.

I will have me when first thing on my mind when I wake up will be me.
Simple as that.
Simple, but not easy.
First thing when I try to wake up is ... just 10 more minutes ... just 10 more minutes so I can dream a little dream of him. 
Aaand so it starts. My day starts with a dream of him. 
No wonder I can't get rid of him.
I ain't even trying enough I guess.
So today, after writing some stuff, I realised this is way beyond gone too far.
Nevermind all the emotions, feelings, the words said and unsaid, the looks and the connection.
Because there are also lies, manipulation, a bit of pretending and a lot of teasing.
And a seriuos lack of trust. 
Yes, surely, I trust him that he has my back, he will take care of me and help me.
But, on a higher, deeper level, I just don't trust him.
And that's not quite a good thing, right.
So, knowing this, and admiting this to myself, I decided I will think of me more. 
For a change.
And for a start.
So whenever my delusional mind wanders towards him, I shall gently stop it and say, hey gorgeus, it's me that you're looking for. And I shall say it with the most gentle and loving voice. 
So, yes, it's all about me now.

Just thinking.

So I decided to take control of my life.
And to make certain changes.
I know, this will get a lot of people's eyebrows rise. And will start a project called: Let's help her get back to sanity. Or something like that.
My main issue is, that I usually started enthusiastically talk about it and make plans and got all excited and stuff like that. And after a while, it all fell into water and people's predictions "came true". 
So, I decided not to explain things. Not in details. Not enthusiastically. 
Just basic stuff maybe. And with careful selection of words.
I do not need to explain myself. After a while I will be shown, me. 
The reason for writting this was his reaction. My choice of word was poor and he called in concern. How do you mean, no more drugs and alcohol?
Well, drugs were never actually my thing. 
Alcohol, honestly, a glass of wine will still do. 
His concern was honest. He doens't want my head to be filled with other people's want.
Except his I guess.
I said I don't want to talk about this over phone.
I wanted to write him an e-mail, explaining. But as i said, no more explaining.
My biggest fear - losing him. And losing some people around me.
Because now I will be shown as I am. No more nice masks, pretending to be OK or to be a drama queen with heartbreaking stories.
No more sticking around just in case I don't miss something.
No more me hanging on him, trying to be interesting enough to hang with him. 
Will I be interesting enough for him now? So he will want to hang with me? 
Just thinking.
I am interesting enough as it is. My true me was always strong inside me, even through all my masks and walls. 
Losing him? Will hurt. But I know I will not lose him. 
Nor will I lose my closest ones.
Yes, some people will leave my life. But those who count, won't. 
Just thinking.
I am so blessed in my life, so blessed. 
Thank you.

I am still here.

I managed to survive last year.
I made plans to make plans for new year. I failed.
I also made plans how to end the year. I failed that too.
I didn't fail at failing and failing myself. 
Right now I'm struggling not to fall in the abyss of self-destruction and self-hatred. Because of all the failing. 
It is simple to fall in. It is easy. It is known. I know how to fall in it and I know how to swim in my shit.
But, somehow I managed to make a commitment for a change. I vowed I'm starting new. I made it clear I need a new start. 
Just the execution of this is a bit blurry. Because it involves my ass sitting behind the table and writting and digging deep into me and writting and making deadlines and making things change.
Well, my ass is not used to that. It is used to take shortcuts, to avoid things and to postpone things until they no longer matter.
But, for some strange reason, now it is different.
Just that I managed to fail is still bugging me. 
But, taking a different look at the situation, I didn't fail at execution. I failed at expectations. I made plans and I expected things to be like this and like that. And then when I was  going to do things, I wasn't quite satisfied because they didn't quite look the way I wanted to.
Point?
Need to write. Seriously. I need to write more. 
And to meditate.
And to take care of my finances.
At the moment, I would also gladly get laid, but somehow I don't have the energy. I need to put myself together. 
This is my last call.
I am still here.