This is weird. I'm in my room. On my couch. All ready for sleep. Well, I plan to read for a bit.
It's the first time I've laid down in here since I moved back. First time I attempt to sleep here. It's very sad. I keep thinking back. It's just that I'm sleeping on OUR couch, here. Which I'm still terrified to find his scent on. And that we shared a bedroom here for 6 months. Before that, he was the first boyfriend of mine to ever spend the night here. All the while complaining about the ridiculously small tv.
Bodil fell on me when I pulled the covers on. The elephant he gave me the day before valentines, as a non-valentines gift. We couldn't really afford her, but I just loved her so much, he got her for me anyway. That sparked the memory of him texting me a picture of her, trunk in his glass of water, to cheer me up on a bad day. I miss that.
Earlier, I watched the final episode of Everwood. The one where Andy finally gets Nina, and Amy and Ephram gets back together. I love that episode, I cry like a baby when I watch it. It also made me understand something. I kinda always thought he'd be my Ephram. Which makes no sense, cause I'm the only one who ever watched this show. I guess the analogy Ross from Friends would work too. That person in your life that you love so freaking much, but things just keep happening, one or the other keeps screwing up, but you somehow always end back up with cause it's just.. Right. That's a very difficult idea to let go of. And I didn't even realize I even had it. I mean, in the past, sure. But I know it's final, now, and I don't want him back. I guess.. There's just crooks of my mind, or heart, rather, that hasn't fully realized that yet. Maybe they still think it's a nightmare they'll wake from any moment.
I'm definitely in round two of the whole depression act. The Kübler-Ross model don't seem to be working in the correct order, with me. Or maybe my grief is so big I have to go through it twice, cause I feel like I'm back to the bargaining and depression stages, though I know I've been here before.
I guess I just wish that things had turned out different. Better. That I could at least have kept him as a friend. I can't remember how his laugh sounded. I feel very alone without him.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Projectmaniac?
I got an appointment with the doctor on monday. Or, they still need to confirm it, but I booked it online. Hopefully it's nothing to worry about. Most likely, since I'm only 22, it really is nothing. And my lifestyle isn't exactly horrible enough to have imposed something serious on myself. I don't think so, at least.
I've been really tired today. I have English at 5, but right now it seems far fetched I'll be awake at that time. Obviously I'll go, it's the class I've been looking forward to the most. I'll just nap before then. And I should eat. I had yoghurt for breakfeast, and cut up a banana and some strawberries to put in it, it was yummy. I feel like having sushi. I'm watching Everwood ^.^
On friday, I need to stop by the counselor at school, and see if they've got room for me in chem/bio/geo cross studies. I'm in line, number 2. If I don't get in, I need to find some other classes to fill the hours. My mom'll be dropping by early afternoon, and then in the evening I'm meeting the guys for roleplay and dinner. I haven't seen them in 2 weeks, so I'm looking forward to it.
I've been doing drawings for the kitchen. Not drawings to hang there, but drawings of how I'd like it to be redone. Apparently, it's possible to apply to redo the kitchen, using the maintenance account. And there's like 35.000 dkk on there. (About 6000$). We have a brand new fridge and stove, so we wouldn't need to get those. If I got to decide, the floors would be redone. That's about 3000 dkk. All the cabinets and counters would be taken down, and the walls would be fine sanded. That'd take a big chunk, but if we rip stuff down ourselfs, I can't imagine it'd be more than 7-8000. Then the gas would be rewired to the opposite side of the room, so the fridge is not in your face the second you step in, but rather in the nook the stove is in now. That'd be kinda expensive, especially cause the only logical way to do it, is to wire them to the window, let them go down to floor height, hidden under the base of the cabinets, and then go around like that. And gaspipes are freaking expensive. So we'd probaly hit 15-18.000 before even having cabinets or counters or anything. But we'd have someone do an estimate on it, of course. We're applying by October ^.^
Oh, the peacock painting? I think I kinda sold it. An old friend from when we were little wants to buy it ^.^ I didn't really expect that when I sat down to kill time O.o It's the first time I paint since like 3rd grade, and someone wants to buy the outcome? I'm honored. I suggested he could pick it up tomorrow when I'm home from class, but we'll see.
And the clock I mentioned:
I've been really tired today. I have English at 5, but right now it seems far fetched I'll be awake at that time. Obviously I'll go, it's the class I've been looking forward to the most. I'll just nap before then. And I should eat. I had yoghurt for breakfeast, and cut up a banana and some strawberries to put in it, it was yummy. I feel like having sushi. I'm watching Everwood ^.^
On friday, I need to stop by the counselor at school, and see if they've got room for me in chem/bio/geo cross studies. I'm in line, number 2. If I don't get in, I need to find some other classes to fill the hours. My mom'll be dropping by early afternoon, and then in the evening I'm meeting the guys for roleplay and dinner. I haven't seen them in 2 weeks, so I'm looking forward to it.
I've been doing drawings for the kitchen. Not drawings to hang there, but drawings of how I'd like it to be redone. Apparently, it's possible to apply to redo the kitchen, using the maintenance account. And there's like 35.000 dkk on there. (About 6000$). We have a brand new fridge and stove, so we wouldn't need to get those. If I got to decide, the floors would be redone. That's about 3000 dkk. All the cabinets and counters would be taken down, and the walls would be fine sanded. That'd take a big chunk, but if we rip stuff down ourselfs, I can't imagine it'd be more than 7-8000. Then the gas would be rewired to the opposite side of the room, so the fridge is not in your face the second you step in, but rather in the nook the stove is in now. That'd be kinda expensive, especially cause the only logical way to do it, is to wire them to the window, let them go down to floor height, hidden under the base of the cabinets, and then go around like that. And gaspipes are freaking expensive. So we'd probaly hit 15-18.000 before even having cabinets or counters or anything. But we'd have someone do an estimate on it, of course. We're applying by October ^.^
Oh, the peacock painting? I think I kinda sold it. An old friend from when we were little wants to buy it ^.^ I didn't really expect that when I sat down to kill time O.o It's the first time I paint since like 3rd grade, and someone wants to buy the outcome? I'm honored. I suggested he could pick it up tomorrow when I'm home from class, but we'll see.
And the clock I mentioned:
I took the mechanics out of it, so it doesn't show time. It shows the time of day I was born, and it's glued that way. I can't help but look at old clocks now, I want to make more of these XD I looked at Etsy to see if there were any materials to be found, and actually came up with some nice stuff!
So more clocks will be made. Well. Clock-looking wallpieces. I might get my grandmother to scour yardsales for scraps, before I start chasing stuff on Etsy, but it's nice to know I can find materials there if I want. Maybe I can sell my stuff there, at some point. Clock-thingies, paintings, decorative pillows. And potential other thingamabobs I create.
I'm all about the creativity, these days. And watching series. And reading the Sookie Stackhouse series. And dream about Alexander Skarsgaard. So I'll get back to those things now.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Lonesome Creativity
Today is one of those days. I finally got like.. 7 hours of sleep, last night. And that's awesome. My brain still feels a little foggy. I could not for the life of me concentrate in class today. I did manage to say a few things, which was more that I thought I'd be able to, today.
Afterwards, I went to get some tea, recommended to me. I ended up getting 4 different boxes. I'm totally in the tea business, these days. Well, and I started drinking coffee. I never thought I'd be drinking that crap. But when tired enough.... Yeah. I still have to douse it with sugar and milk. Lots of milk.
It may be because I just spent a week, sharing an apartment with someone, but I feel really lonely at home, right now. I got home at 13.30-ish, and took a nap. Then I watched a few episodes of Matador, an old danish series I happen to love. Then I watched the season finale of True Blood. Which was awesome, I might add. Then I felt that creative tug. So I did the LP/clock-piece I've been working on, so now it just needs a hanging device, but I need to go out and find one, first. Then I cracked open my new painting kit. I painted a peacock.
It turned out much prettier than I expected, but I did spend about 5 hours on it, so it had to look somewhat decent. I'm not much of a painter, really, but it's fun, and now that I don't play games anymore (At least not right now, I may take my gaming up again, at some point), I'm trying to focus my energy on creative projects. I set my dining room table up with my sewing machine, and got all my half-finished stuff piled up, so I'm all ready to start up.
I also did some cleaning up, before the painting. I like that my place is looking pretty neat, most the time, now.
But I miss sharing my day. I think the vacation might have sparked a new round of sadness, to be honest. I just really miss talking to him. Sharing my day and hearing about his. I wonder what he'd think of the clock and the painting. Cause my brain is still kinda wired that way. So I remind myself he'd probably critisize or not care, anyway. I remind myself of all the lying. Of how often I felt unloved. Of how he'd turn all his own shortcomings and insecurities so they'd look like they were mine.
But it doesn't really make me feel better, it only makes me want to cry and scream at him. I still feel like hitting him. I hope he'll fall and break his stupid neck on that idiotic motorbike I'm told he's getting. And that's not very nice of me to think, so I catch and chastise myself for sinking so low. He doesn't deserve my hatred. I'm working towards not giving a fuck. Not caring. I'm there most of the time. Just not right now. Right now I wish he'd show up at my door so I could push him down the staircase.
Tomorrow I'll dive back into the world of discussing politics with a classroom of people disappointed in the sitting government. Not that I'm defending their idiocy, but they kinda critisize without really understanding the positions. And that's just faulty. I'm looking forward to English on wednesday. Especially after a week of practising.
Tomorrow after school, I want to paint a tree. Granddad wanted one. I also got a lot of deco-paper, so I'm gonna get that wooden box fixed up for mom, like I promised. Paint it and cut out decopaper for the back of the pockets. I want to do the two pillowcases I'm sewing, this week, too.
I got season 2 of The Tudors, and season 4 of Everwood, for after Matador. So I'm all set for entertainment for a while.
Oh! I looked into the swedish class. I can't do it this year, cause it clashes with my English class, but it runs from early September till late November, and it's 1780 dkk (about 300$). There's an advanced class you can take after that one, but it's also a September-November thing, so I'd had to wait a year between them, and I don't think I need to advance it that much. It's also more expensive than the first course. But if I can find the money next year, and it doesn't clash with my other classes (they're the priority, since the swedish thing is only out of interest, and doesn't do a thing for my grades; it's not even the same line of schools), I think I'll sign up.
I'm getting tired. I'm gonna watch more Matador, and then sleep. School isn't till noon tomorrow, so I can sleep in. Or get up early and look at the texts I missed last week. And call the doctor. Gotta do that tomorrow before school, so I can get on with the heart-thing.
Afterwards, I went to get some tea, recommended to me. I ended up getting 4 different boxes. I'm totally in the tea business, these days. Well, and I started drinking coffee. I never thought I'd be drinking that crap. But when tired enough.... Yeah. I still have to douse it with sugar and milk. Lots of milk.
It may be because I just spent a week, sharing an apartment with someone, but I feel really lonely at home, right now. I got home at 13.30-ish, and took a nap. Then I watched a few episodes of Matador, an old danish series I happen to love. Then I watched the season finale of True Blood. Which was awesome, I might add. Then I felt that creative tug. So I did the LP/clock-piece I've been working on, so now it just needs a hanging device, but I need to go out and find one, first. Then I cracked open my new painting kit. I painted a peacock.
It turned out much prettier than I expected, but I did spend about 5 hours on it, so it had to look somewhat decent. I'm not much of a painter, really, but it's fun, and now that I don't play games anymore (At least not right now, I may take my gaming up again, at some point), I'm trying to focus my energy on creative projects. I set my dining room table up with my sewing machine, and got all my half-finished stuff piled up, so I'm all ready to start up.
I also did some cleaning up, before the painting. I like that my place is looking pretty neat, most the time, now.
But I miss sharing my day. I think the vacation might have sparked a new round of sadness, to be honest. I just really miss talking to him. Sharing my day and hearing about his. I wonder what he'd think of the clock and the painting. Cause my brain is still kinda wired that way. So I remind myself he'd probably critisize or not care, anyway. I remind myself of all the lying. Of how often I felt unloved. Of how he'd turn all his own shortcomings and insecurities so they'd look like they were mine.
But it doesn't really make me feel better, it only makes me want to cry and scream at him. I still feel like hitting him. I hope he'll fall and break his stupid neck on that idiotic motorbike I'm told he's getting. And that's not very nice of me to think, so I catch and chastise myself for sinking so low. He doesn't deserve my hatred. I'm working towards not giving a fuck. Not caring. I'm there most of the time. Just not right now. Right now I wish he'd show up at my door so I could push him down the staircase.
Tomorrow I'll dive back into the world of discussing politics with a classroom of people disappointed in the sitting government. Not that I'm defending their idiocy, but they kinda critisize without really understanding the positions. And that's just faulty. I'm looking forward to English on wednesday. Especially after a week of practising.
Tomorrow after school, I want to paint a tree. Granddad wanted one. I also got a lot of deco-paper, so I'm gonna get that wooden box fixed up for mom, like I promised. Paint it and cut out decopaper for the back of the pockets. I want to do the two pillowcases I'm sewing, this week, too.
I got season 2 of The Tudors, and season 4 of Everwood, for after Matador. So I'm all set for entertainment for a while.
Oh! I looked into the swedish class. I can't do it this year, cause it clashes with my English class, but it runs from early September till late November, and it's 1780 dkk (about 300$). There's an advanced class you can take after that one, but it's also a September-November thing, so I'd had to wait a year between them, and I don't think I need to advance it that much. It's also more expensive than the first course. But if I can find the money next year, and it doesn't clash with my other classes (they're the priority, since the swedish thing is only out of interest, and doesn't do a thing for my grades; it's not even the same line of schools), I think I'll sign up.
I'm getting tired. I'm gonna watch more Matador, and then sleep. School isn't till noon tomorrow, so I can sleep in. Or get up early and look at the texts I missed last week. And call the doctor. Gotta do that tomorrow before school, so I can get on with the heart-thing.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
If he had been there
I've seen mountains. This may seem like a non-interesting fact to many people, but I am nearing 23, and I have never seen a mountain till a week ago. It was amazing. The view from.. well, anywhere, really.. The street, the promenade, the beach, our balcony.. You could see them, all around the bay and coastline. And no matter how much you looked, you never got used to it. They were just so BIG.
I've seen crystal clear, turqoise, green and blue water. Shimmering with little black and silver fish, and rippling with the waves and minimal amount of wind. I swam in the saltiest water I've ever experienced, jumping off the boat with a squeal of joy. I swam to a rocky shore, and sat in the shallow water, picking up and examining rocks, colored and speckled in ways completely new to me. I saw a tiny starfish.
I've tanned. I never, ever get really tan. My stomach, which is always glowing white, now looks like actual human skin. My legs too. My arms and my chest are downright brown. No redness left at all. It was blazingly hot every single day, and you almost felt like you were breating lava. But you were never cold, and I hate being cold. I've never been in sun that baked you well above 65 degrees celsius. It was 40 in the shadow, that's completely uncommon in my world, as well.
I have seen and experienced a lot of things, this past week. Many of them too amazing for me to explain their wonder. I will try, when I have slept a bit more. Right now, my mind is on a different aspect of my trip.
I'll start by pointing out that it was an amazing vacation, and that I cherish every moment of it. Even the less positive parts of it. Those, will also be adressed later on. I was pleasantly surprised by how well I got along with the bat for a week. I'm not good with having people around for too long at a time, and there's only been one exception so far. We had so much fun, and we've created memories for life. Memories I wouldn't trade for anything.
But there were moments. Moments where the heat and the silence of the night got me melancholic. Moments where the scenery was too beautiful, the mood was too intimate, or where something funny would happen that gave a little tug. A tug that reminded me how it would have been, had everything not went down the drain. The bat asked me how it would have been different, what things would be different for me, had it not been her as my travelcompanion. I don't think I answered, really.
Everything. Everything would have been different. There would have been a bigger problem in all the cats and chickens running around all over. He would have been allergic the entire trip, even I had to do pills every day. The nights would have been hotter, cause I doubt the noise and the intensity of the AC would have fallen under any kind of approved category. He would propably have aquired a cold. He always gets sick with that at odd and inconvenient times. I would have been able and felt in my right to pick up any mess that wasn't mine. I'm not sure how it would have effected the turkish bath. He wouldn't have liked the part where strangers touch you and scrub you down while you're close to naked, I think. He would have found my reactions hilarious, though.
The food would have been different. He would have taken one look at Maymi's menu, and deemed it too danish for a vacation to Marmaris. I would have agreed. I think there would have been less swimming. It's not his strongest side, and I didn't like to make it too obvious that it's one of mine. We'd have been in the water, sure, but not very deep, probably. I'm not sure the waterpark would have held any attraction to him, at all. He would have reminded me to drink, all the time. Not that it would have been needed, since you can barely go 3 feet without feeling like you just swallowed a beaver.
He would probably have talked me into the parasailing. As it was, the second I saw them, my brain flipflopped and refused to really acknowledge the reality of those chutes' exsistense. It was just so damn far up! But I know he would have talked me into it, and with him beside me, I would have felt brave and proud and safer. Not entirely safe, that won't ever happen hundreds of meters above ground. He would have been proud of me, too. We would have driven the segway-tricycle-thingies a lot more. He would have loved the speed, and even though I was scared to death I'd hit someone, I loved it too.
His anxiety attacks would have hit head-on and fullblown at the market and the bazar. The way the salespeople crowded you and chased you and sometimes held you back physically, would have been way too much for him. And I would have been confused till I figured it out, before I'd have stepped up and been the protector. I would have been determined to be the anchor, and I wouldn't have let go of him.
We would have spent more time away from the others. Couple-time. We would have given in to the romance. It's everywhere, there. It's in the view, the heat, all the bright lights, the music, the sound of the water always close enough to be clucking against the sand. It's in the atmosphere of the restaurants, the smells of the spices, the sunset and the massive amount of bare skin.
When we would have been with the others, my sister would have laughed so much with him. He would have provided that male company my nephew so much needed, and I would have loved him all the more for making the kid happy. He's a great kid, he really is. He made a heart out of sesame seads, and put his and my initials in it, and I got to take pictures of that. He's 13, and he's just so full of affection, you can't help but loving him.
When my sister got in a huge argument with one of the older people, he would have stood up for her, verbally. I can just tell. The course of the conversation just went places where I knew he would have won. He would have made that old disgusting idiot ashamed of himself, in some clever way that would have made me feel proud to be by his side, and glad I wasn't on the receiving end. He would probably have chastised me for rebuking the old man's insult to my sister, in such a displaying way. But I really did feel a need for the sarcastic applauding of a man who calls a woman a whore bitch, in front of her 13-year old son, without as much as blinking. I don't know how he would have reacted to the almost-fight. I'm sure he would have kept me in my seat, had it come to blows between the old man and my sister, and I would have seethed. I think he would have intervened, but only to stop any damage to anyone.
I would have been calmer on the flight home. I would have had the comfort and familiarity of his smell and sound. I woke up a lot at night, because the bat's snoring is so fast and light, I thought something was wrong. It was like a gust of wind when you're used to a hurricane.
We would have written postcards to so many people. We would have written Elan and Esben and his mom and sister. Maybe even his dad. We would have been mutually annoyed to miss an episode of True Blood, especially so close to the season finale. He would have downloaded it within half an hour of returning home.
We would probably have argued, too. I don't doubt that. But I know I'd have come home, happier than when I left. Excited about life, love and seeing the world. More willing to go cold places. Though, the toilet requirement wouldn't have changed, it's only reinforced. But I had little glimps. Glimps of future. Well. how I would have seen future, in it. How all the amazement and shared experiences would have made me fall, all over again.
And it made me really sad at times, that I for brief moments believed it would have made a difference for us. Because I know it would only have bought us more time, before the truth got out and the bubble burst.
I had moments where I missed him so much it made me numb.
I've seen crystal clear, turqoise, green and blue water. Shimmering with little black and silver fish, and rippling with the waves and minimal amount of wind. I swam in the saltiest water I've ever experienced, jumping off the boat with a squeal of joy. I swam to a rocky shore, and sat in the shallow water, picking up and examining rocks, colored and speckled in ways completely new to me. I saw a tiny starfish.
I've tanned. I never, ever get really tan. My stomach, which is always glowing white, now looks like actual human skin. My legs too. My arms and my chest are downright brown. No redness left at all. It was blazingly hot every single day, and you almost felt like you were breating lava. But you were never cold, and I hate being cold. I've never been in sun that baked you well above 65 degrees celsius. It was 40 in the shadow, that's completely uncommon in my world, as well.
I have seen and experienced a lot of things, this past week. Many of them too amazing for me to explain their wonder. I will try, when I have slept a bit more. Right now, my mind is on a different aspect of my trip.
I'll start by pointing out that it was an amazing vacation, and that I cherish every moment of it. Even the less positive parts of it. Those, will also be adressed later on. I was pleasantly surprised by how well I got along with the bat for a week. I'm not good with having people around for too long at a time, and there's only been one exception so far. We had so much fun, and we've created memories for life. Memories I wouldn't trade for anything.
But there were moments. Moments where the heat and the silence of the night got me melancholic. Moments where the scenery was too beautiful, the mood was too intimate, or where something funny would happen that gave a little tug. A tug that reminded me how it would have been, had everything not went down the drain. The bat asked me how it would have been different, what things would be different for me, had it not been her as my travelcompanion. I don't think I answered, really.
Everything. Everything would have been different. There would have been a bigger problem in all the cats and chickens running around all over. He would have been allergic the entire trip, even I had to do pills every day. The nights would have been hotter, cause I doubt the noise and the intensity of the AC would have fallen under any kind of approved category. He would propably have aquired a cold. He always gets sick with that at odd and inconvenient times. I would have been able and felt in my right to pick up any mess that wasn't mine. I'm not sure how it would have effected the turkish bath. He wouldn't have liked the part where strangers touch you and scrub you down while you're close to naked, I think. He would have found my reactions hilarious, though.
The food would have been different. He would have taken one look at Maymi's menu, and deemed it too danish for a vacation to Marmaris. I would have agreed. I think there would have been less swimming. It's not his strongest side, and I didn't like to make it too obvious that it's one of mine. We'd have been in the water, sure, but not very deep, probably. I'm not sure the waterpark would have held any attraction to him, at all. He would have reminded me to drink, all the time. Not that it would have been needed, since you can barely go 3 feet without feeling like you just swallowed a beaver.
He would probably have talked me into the parasailing. As it was, the second I saw them, my brain flipflopped and refused to really acknowledge the reality of those chutes' exsistense. It was just so damn far up! But I know he would have talked me into it, and with him beside me, I would have felt brave and proud and safer. Not entirely safe, that won't ever happen hundreds of meters above ground. He would have been proud of me, too. We would have driven the segway-tricycle-thingies a lot more. He would have loved the speed, and even though I was scared to death I'd hit someone, I loved it too.
His anxiety attacks would have hit head-on and fullblown at the market and the bazar. The way the salespeople crowded you and chased you and sometimes held you back physically, would have been way too much for him. And I would have been confused till I figured it out, before I'd have stepped up and been the protector. I would have been determined to be the anchor, and I wouldn't have let go of him.
We would have spent more time away from the others. Couple-time. We would have given in to the romance. It's everywhere, there. It's in the view, the heat, all the bright lights, the music, the sound of the water always close enough to be clucking against the sand. It's in the atmosphere of the restaurants, the smells of the spices, the sunset and the massive amount of bare skin.
When we would have been with the others, my sister would have laughed so much with him. He would have provided that male company my nephew so much needed, and I would have loved him all the more for making the kid happy. He's a great kid, he really is. He made a heart out of sesame seads, and put his and my initials in it, and I got to take pictures of that. He's 13, and he's just so full of affection, you can't help but loving him.
When my sister got in a huge argument with one of the older people, he would have stood up for her, verbally. I can just tell. The course of the conversation just went places where I knew he would have won. He would have made that old disgusting idiot ashamed of himself, in some clever way that would have made me feel proud to be by his side, and glad I wasn't on the receiving end. He would probably have chastised me for rebuking the old man's insult to my sister, in such a displaying way. But I really did feel a need for the sarcastic applauding of a man who calls a woman a whore bitch, in front of her 13-year old son, without as much as blinking. I don't know how he would have reacted to the almost-fight. I'm sure he would have kept me in my seat, had it come to blows between the old man and my sister, and I would have seethed. I think he would have intervened, but only to stop any damage to anyone.
I would have been calmer on the flight home. I would have had the comfort and familiarity of his smell and sound. I woke up a lot at night, because the bat's snoring is so fast and light, I thought something was wrong. It was like a gust of wind when you're used to a hurricane.
We would have written postcards to so many people. We would have written Elan and Esben and his mom and sister. Maybe even his dad. We would have been mutually annoyed to miss an episode of True Blood, especially so close to the season finale. He would have downloaded it within half an hour of returning home.
We would probably have argued, too. I don't doubt that. But I know I'd have come home, happier than when I left. Excited about life, love and seeing the world. More willing to go cold places. Though, the toilet requirement wouldn't have changed, it's only reinforced. But I had little glimps. Glimps of future. Well. how I would have seen future, in it. How all the amazement and shared experiences would have made me fall, all over again.
And it made me really sad at times, that I for brief moments believed it would have made a difference for us. Because I know it would only have bought us more time, before the truth got out and the bubble burst.
I had moments where I missed him so much it made me numb.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Mom-in-law, vacation and... kids.
My former mother-in-law just left with the last of the ex's stuff. His best friend helped carrying stuff down. It was quick and somewhat painless. I've missed mom. Yes, I will refer to her as such if I damn well please. And I please. I love the woman, she really has been like a second mom to me. I'm really sad not to have her as a grandmother to my potential kids. (Let's get back to the kids thing, in a bit, btw.) Despite his demand I stay away from his family, which I expect was said in anger and desperation to get some sort of reaction out of me, she and I agreed on a hot beverage and shoe-making talk, at her place, once I'm home from Turkey. I'm looking forward to it already, I miss hanging out with them. They're extended family, and I doubt that'll change anytime soon, for me.
Anyway. I spend most of the day cleaning and moving furniture around. I vacuumed all over, cleaned the toilet, emptied some of the odds and ends boxes, moved the diningroom furniture around so I can use the table for sewing, have free access to the balcony, and still entertain, I did the dishes, straightened my couch, dusted, collected all the trash so it's ready to be taken down, put all the stuff in the walk-in that belongs in there, I even polished the coffee table (which is made of glass and has a tendency to look horrible after one glass being set down once). Oh, and I had the windows open all over, all day. And I put all the laundry away. And hung the rest of my clothes that needed to go in the closet. I did a ton of stuff XD And the place looks awesome. It feels nice, too.
I still want to go through my suitcase one more time for friday (Yes, I've done it a few times. 6, actually.) and take pictures (just in case, insurance reasons), and then I just need to get ready for class tomorrow. It's not till noon, so that's a luxury. Tomorrow after class.. I should make a list.
I need to set up the hamsters with everything they need, so mom knows what to take when she picks them up. She's taking care of them while I'm away, so I'm expecting two fat boys when I get back.
I need to clean their cage tomorrow evening so it's nice and fresh for the pick-up. The girls have already been picked up, and will stay with a friend who knows snakes, till I get home. Maybe a bit more than that, since he expressed interest in Cersei for breeding, and I don't like to seperate them. We'll see. He gets to hold on to them for a while, to observe their temper and health and all that, and I get to rest assured they're in good hands while I'm away. I like that deal. Anyway, the list..
I need to make sure all the trash is taken down, and that there's no perishables that'll go bad while I'm gone.
I need to select an outfit for travelling. Something comfortable, that takes into consideration 4 hours of flying, 1½ hour in a bus, and that we'll arrive at midnight, at the hotel. It might be a bit cool, so I need long sleeves.
I need to take a nice, hot shower, so I'm all spanky clean and comfy for the trip.
I need to go through my purse to make sure I'm not bringing anything in it that can't go in the airplane. Must be put in the suitcase.
And.. I think that's it.
I feel well-prepared for this. There's been noone to stop me from going crazy with the lists and the preparations. I've been able to go all cutesy OCD on it, and I've enjoyed it like crazy.
So, about the kid-thing.
My grandmother actually had me make a namelist. We were talking babynames (spin off from all their geneology, them thinking all the old-fashioned names being better than my modern ones) and my grandmother decided that of all the names I put on my list, not one would make it to a kid of mine. Well, except for Nova Sara Something, cause I've been holding on to that one for years, and apparently, it's not as awful a name as all the rest. I already said that my first girl will be named Sara as a middle name. If I have another girl, her middle name will be Jessie. I'm not going to go on a long rant as to why, but they were good people, and I'm damn well naming any girls of mine after them. Just for reference, here's the list.
For a Girl:
Nova (Everyone approves.)
Luna
Emma (Might be weird, seeing as I have a character named that.)
Luca
Aimee (My sister approves of this one. She's awesome.)
Dina
Fleur (Both grandma and Sis approved of this one.)
Ivy (For once, grandma got something right, pronouncing it in danish, "Eevee")
Megan (Also pronounced in danish.)
Mira
My (Won't really do, since that's my sister's nickname, but I love it, so I put it on the list. Also have a character with the name.)
Tess
Via (Because.. well. Character, again. And you can ACTUALLY be named that.)
For a Boy: (Which people hope I will never have, based on my namelist)
Bastian
Adam
Theodor
Noah
Oliver (The only one my sister didn't hate XD)
Dimitri
Frej
Gabriel
Hjalte
Kian
Vidar
Damian
Now, the reason there aren't a lot of comments on the boys.. is that both my grandmother and my sister basically hated each and every name on there XD My personal favourites are Theodor and Kian. Good thing I dreamed a girl, huh? But that won't be till yeeeaaaars from now. If I find someone I even want kids with. I do want to meet Nova.
Anyway. I spend most of the day cleaning and moving furniture around. I vacuumed all over, cleaned the toilet, emptied some of the odds and ends boxes, moved the diningroom furniture around so I can use the table for sewing, have free access to the balcony, and still entertain, I did the dishes, straightened my couch, dusted, collected all the trash so it's ready to be taken down, put all the stuff in the walk-in that belongs in there, I even polished the coffee table (which is made of glass and has a tendency to look horrible after one glass being set down once). Oh, and I had the windows open all over, all day. And I put all the laundry away. And hung the rest of my clothes that needed to go in the closet. I did a ton of stuff XD And the place looks awesome. It feels nice, too.
I still want to go through my suitcase one more time for friday (Yes, I've done it a few times. 6, actually.) and take pictures (just in case, insurance reasons), and then I just need to get ready for class tomorrow. It's not till noon, so that's a luxury. Tomorrow after class.. I should make a list.
I need to set up the hamsters with everything they need, so mom knows what to take when she picks them up. She's taking care of them while I'm away, so I'm expecting two fat boys when I get back.
I need to clean their cage tomorrow evening so it's nice and fresh for the pick-up. The girls have already been picked up, and will stay with a friend who knows snakes, till I get home. Maybe a bit more than that, since he expressed interest in Cersei for breeding, and I don't like to seperate them. We'll see. He gets to hold on to them for a while, to observe their temper and health and all that, and I get to rest assured they're in good hands while I'm away. I like that deal. Anyway, the list..
I need to make sure all the trash is taken down, and that there's no perishables that'll go bad while I'm gone.
I need to select an outfit for travelling. Something comfortable, that takes into consideration 4 hours of flying, 1½ hour in a bus, and that we'll arrive at midnight, at the hotel. It might be a bit cool, so I need long sleeves.
I need to take a nice, hot shower, so I'm all spanky clean and comfy for the trip.
I need to go through my purse to make sure I'm not bringing anything in it that can't go in the airplane. Must be put in the suitcase.
And.. I think that's it.
I feel well-prepared for this. There's been noone to stop me from going crazy with the lists and the preparations. I've been able to go all cutesy OCD on it, and I've enjoyed it like crazy.
So, about the kid-thing.
My grandmother actually had me make a namelist. We were talking babynames (spin off from all their geneology, them thinking all the old-fashioned names being better than my modern ones) and my grandmother decided that of all the names I put on my list, not one would make it to a kid of mine. Well, except for Nova Sara Something, cause I've been holding on to that one for years, and apparently, it's not as awful a name as all the rest. I already said that my first girl will be named Sara as a middle name. If I have another girl, her middle name will be Jessie. I'm not going to go on a long rant as to why, but they were good people, and I'm damn well naming any girls of mine after them. Just for reference, here's the list.
For a Girl:
Nova (Everyone approves.)
Luna
Emma (Might be weird, seeing as I have a character named that.)
Luca
Aimee (My sister approves of this one. She's awesome.)
Dina
Fleur (Both grandma and Sis approved of this one.)
Ivy (For once, grandma got something right, pronouncing it in danish, "Eevee")
Megan (Also pronounced in danish.)
Mira
My (Won't really do, since that's my sister's nickname, but I love it, so I put it on the list. Also have a character with the name.)
Tess
Via (Because.. well. Character, again. And you can ACTUALLY be named that.)
For a Boy: (Which people hope I will never have, based on my namelist)
Bastian
Adam
Theodor
Noah
Oliver (The only one my sister didn't hate XD)
Dimitri
Frej
Gabriel
Hjalte
Kian
Vidar
Damian
Now, the reason there aren't a lot of comments on the boys.. is that both my grandmother and my sister basically hated each and every name on there XD My personal favourites are Theodor and Kian. Good thing I dreamed a girl, huh? But that won't be till yeeeaaaars from now. If I find someone I even want kids with. I do want to meet Nova.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Assault of the mind
August 1st.
I've been single for about a month, now. I'm not a fan. I mean, sure, there are good things about being just me. Less laundry for example. My kind of food (more like no food) in the fridge. I only have my own stuff to pick up after myself, and I can watch whatever I want on tv. I have furry pets again. Stuff like that.
Then there's a huge list of bad things. Huge. Like watching all the bad tv alone. Like the silence. Like the loneliness, emotionally, mentally and physically. Like the realizations that keep hitting me. There was an american football commercial on earlier, and it occured to me there won't be an O'Leary's thing next spring, for the Super Bowl. And I won't be going to London next fall, to watch a game and have Fish'n'Chips with Esben in Camden. Or sunday evenings with the guys watching the game. I'll be spending christmas with my family. I was looking forward to being with his mothers family again. It was the best christmas ever, last time. It was a real christmas. My love of gaming has vanished. I'm trying to get back into WoW, for the launch of MoP, but.. I don't have him to talk to about it, to get excited about it with. I'd be going to the midnight release alone. Or bumping into him there, which strikes me as even worse.
I guess my live role playing will suffer, too. Summer scenarios won't be the same. I won't give up Junction. I love it too much. But even that will be weird. I'm in his area, his part of the kingdom. I'll have to lay low and behave for a while. I still want to sit down and cry when I think about my changeling character. It's pathetic, really, but.. She's the most complicated character I've made. So much thought has been put into her, into making her realistic and fucked up, all at once. She's a freak of nature, and a wonderful one at that. I so wasn't done with her. For all the campaigns I've been in so far, none have captured me like this one. The group dynamic was amazing, too. I miss playing with the guys.
I still can't sleep on the damn couch. Well. I'm sleeping on A couch, but it's my mothers. It's too hard, and I don't have a pillow, so my neck and back feels like crap every day. But I just can't sleep on the other one, yet. I'm up half the night, and I still wake up at 6 or 7, confused. I don't talk to the empty room anymore. I just stare blindly around, expecting him to suddenly sit there, or call out that dinner is ready.
I think I put up a good act. Mom said I was handling everything so well. That Tom was surprised I seemed so happy. And I just nodded my head and gave her the "Of course I'm not perfectly fine, but I will be, it's not so bad." speech. Like a good daughter should, so she won't worry her mother.
I'm still so angry. Furious. The other day, it seemed like it was going to rain, and I went to the balcony to check the temperature. And I glanced at the window beside the door. The window he wrote "I love Cille" on, months ago. A year, more likely. I think I stared at it for a full 5 minutes. It took me about that long to realize I was crying. So naturally, I got a bucket of water, some gloves, a sponge and a piece of cloth, and I slopped water on it till it went away. By then, the tears had given way to seething fury so bad, I felt like breaking the window in stead. I put everything in garbagebags, out there, I even ripped off the screening that's been on there since my mother got the place 18 years ago. I scrubbed down the marble table, and swept the floor. It looks like a totally new place. It occured to me that it was the one place in this apartment I didn't have a clear memory of us, from. Apart from what was written, nothing came to mind. So I reclaimed it, demolished every sign of him there, and took the space back.
Of course, now I remember things. Several more things. Like the challenge I gave him, one day when I was bored between classes. Or a conversation we had out there during a party. Or how he stored my favorite cider out there in the winter. One was still there, when I cleaned.
I still have 2 boxes left to unpack. Mostly old schoolstuff. But I just can't take any more. I found the picture his cousin painted for us, for her confirmation reception, a small token for everyone who came to celebrate her. It's simple, a black background, with a blue and white star, and our initials in purple.4x4 inches, I'd guess. We jumped rope with the kids, he in his suit and me in my way too expensive coctail dress, that he'd given me. I kicked off my heels and just went to play with his niece. The sun was shining, and we were having so much fun. I remembered the oriental theme, with the bright pink and green, and how I was talking to his aunt just a few weeks ago, at his mothers 50th birthday, about how I had absolutely loved the theme.
I love that family. And I miss them so much, already. That's a whole different grief. I came across that picture from the pool at the house on the westcoast. The one where he carries me, and I'm holding a glass of sweet wine to his lips, so he can drink without putting me down. I remember his mom's face when she saw us dancing in the water. It was silly, we were playing around and being romantic in that fairytale way that doesn't really happen in real life. But she beamed. And I just felt so right. It wasn't a perfect vacation. At all. And I'm sure he still remembers it as an awful event. But I remember that moment. I remember having just decided to give it another chance. I remember how soft his hair felt, cause it was growing out. I remember him carrying me around in that pool, swinging me around him and holding me close, while his family talked and laughed, and his mother beamed at us. I remember going to the beach, just him and me, watching the sunset and sighting that stupid dog, that might have just stepped out of The Little Mermaid. I remember taking a detour through the bushes on our way back. I remember that huge bed we had, that neither of us really could take fully advantage of, cause the other one was too far away. We crept up in the middle of it, right up against each other.
All these things are constantly in my head. Every second of the day, I'm battling them to the back of my mind, reminding myself we'll never be. It's done. I can never let him close to me again. He breaks me, and I won't be broken. I can't live my life being lied to. And I certainly can't live my life, feeling bad about thinking I'm being lied to. When I have every right. I don't even think I can forgive it. Not this time. Not now that I know he always treated me as a fool. Not when I know that, in a way, I let him.
I try to spend my days daydreaming about Alexander Skarsgård. It's turning into obsession. But it's a damn good distraction from all the thoughts and memories threatening to take over. I wouldn't mind spending the next year in southern Stockholm, trying to find the man, if it meant a year with a project to keep my mind off all that. I'll accept my fate as a crazy stalker gladly, then. I'm already planning what to say if I ever met him, to stand out. Just in case. The Bat and I already planned how his and my wedding will lead to her being married to Mike Grubbs. Maybe a thing like that really could happen, if we wished and worked hard enough.
I really do have too vivid an imagination. That kind of thing only happens in the movies anyway.
I've been single for about a month, now. I'm not a fan. I mean, sure, there are good things about being just me. Less laundry for example. My kind of food (more like no food) in the fridge. I only have my own stuff to pick up after myself, and I can watch whatever I want on tv. I have furry pets again. Stuff like that.
Then there's a huge list of bad things. Huge. Like watching all the bad tv alone. Like the silence. Like the loneliness, emotionally, mentally and physically. Like the realizations that keep hitting me. There was an american football commercial on earlier, and it occured to me there won't be an O'Leary's thing next spring, for the Super Bowl. And I won't be going to London next fall, to watch a game and have Fish'n'Chips with Esben in Camden. Or sunday evenings with the guys watching the game. I'll be spending christmas with my family. I was looking forward to being with his mothers family again. It was the best christmas ever, last time. It was a real christmas. My love of gaming has vanished. I'm trying to get back into WoW, for the launch of MoP, but.. I don't have him to talk to about it, to get excited about it with. I'd be going to the midnight release alone. Or bumping into him there, which strikes me as even worse.
I guess my live role playing will suffer, too. Summer scenarios won't be the same. I won't give up Junction. I love it too much. But even that will be weird. I'm in his area, his part of the kingdom. I'll have to lay low and behave for a while. I still want to sit down and cry when I think about my changeling character. It's pathetic, really, but.. She's the most complicated character I've made. So much thought has been put into her, into making her realistic and fucked up, all at once. She's a freak of nature, and a wonderful one at that. I so wasn't done with her. For all the campaigns I've been in so far, none have captured me like this one. The group dynamic was amazing, too. I miss playing with the guys.
I still can't sleep on the damn couch. Well. I'm sleeping on A couch, but it's my mothers. It's too hard, and I don't have a pillow, so my neck and back feels like crap every day. But I just can't sleep on the other one, yet. I'm up half the night, and I still wake up at 6 or 7, confused. I don't talk to the empty room anymore. I just stare blindly around, expecting him to suddenly sit there, or call out that dinner is ready.
I think I put up a good act. Mom said I was handling everything so well. That Tom was surprised I seemed so happy. And I just nodded my head and gave her the "Of course I'm not perfectly fine, but I will be, it's not so bad." speech. Like a good daughter should, so she won't worry her mother.
I'm still so angry. Furious. The other day, it seemed like it was going to rain, and I went to the balcony to check the temperature. And I glanced at the window beside the door. The window he wrote "I love Cille" on, months ago. A year, more likely. I think I stared at it for a full 5 minutes. It took me about that long to realize I was crying. So naturally, I got a bucket of water, some gloves, a sponge and a piece of cloth, and I slopped water on it till it went away. By then, the tears had given way to seething fury so bad, I felt like breaking the window in stead. I put everything in garbagebags, out there, I even ripped off the screening that's been on there since my mother got the place 18 years ago. I scrubbed down the marble table, and swept the floor. It looks like a totally new place. It occured to me that it was the one place in this apartment I didn't have a clear memory of us, from. Apart from what was written, nothing came to mind. So I reclaimed it, demolished every sign of him there, and took the space back.
Of course, now I remember things. Several more things. Like the challenge I gave him, one day when I was bored between classes. Or a conversation we had out there during a party. Or how he stored my favorite cider out there in the winter. One was still there, when I cleaned.
I still have 2 boxes left to unpack. Mostly old schoolstuff. But I just can't take any more. I found the picture his cousin painted for us, for her confirmation reception, a small token for everyone who came to celebrate her. It's simple, a black background, with a blue and white star, and our initials in purple.4x4 inches, I'd guess. We jumped rope with the kids, he in his suit and me in my way too expensive coctail dress, that he'd given me. I kicked off my heels and just went to play with his niece. The sun was shining, and we were having so much fun. I remembered the oriental theme, with the bright pink and green, and how I was talking to his aunt just a few weeks ago, at his mothers 50th birthday, about how I had absolutely loved the theme.
I love that family. And I miss them so much, already. That's a whole different grief. I came across that picture from the pool at the house on the westcoast. The one where he carries me, and I'm holding a glass of sweet wine to his lips, so he can drink without putting me down. I remember his mom's face when she saw us dancing in the water. It was silly, we were playing around and being romantic in that fairytale way that doesn't really happen in real life. But she beamed. And I just felt so right. It wasn't a perfect vacation. At all. And I'm sure he still remembers it as an awful event. But I remember that moment. I remember having just decided to give it another chance. I remember how soft his hair felt, cause it was growing out. I remember him carrying me around in that pool, swinging me around him and holding me close, while his family talked and laughed, and his mother beamed at us. I remember going to the beach, just him and me, watching the sunset and sighting that stupid dog, that might have just stepped out of The Little Mermaid. I remember taking a detour through the bushes on our way back. I remember that huge bed we had, that neither of us really could take fully advantage of, cause the other one was too far away. We crept up in the middle of it, right up against each other.
All these things are constantly in my head. Every second of the day, I'm battling them to the back of my mind, reminding myself we'll never be. It's done. I can never let him close to me again. He breaks me, and I won't be broken. I can't live my life being lied to. And I certainly can't live my life, feeling bad about thinking I'm being lied to. When I have every right. I don't even think I can forgive it. Not this time. Not now that I know he always treated me as a fool. Not when I know that, in a way, I let him.
I try to spend my days daydreaming about Alexander Skarsgård. It's turning into obsession. But it's a damn good distraction from all the thoughts and memories threatening to take over. I wouldn't mind spending the next year in southern Stockholm, trying to find the man, if it meant a year with a project to keep my mind off all that. I'll accept my fate as a crazy stalker gladly, then. I'm already planning what to say if I ever met him, to stand out. Just in case. The Bat and I already planned how his and my wedding will lead to her being married to Mike Grubbs. Maybe a thing like that really could happen, if we wished and worked hard enough.
I really do have too vivid an imagination. That kind of thing only happens in the movies anyway.
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