“How do you know when you are in love?”
“All the songs make sense”
I wish I could say they do, but they don’t.I don’t understand. I must be the weirdest human being on Earth, something really doesn’t work with me.
Conversations with C. started become boring and while before was a really long message per day, well became a medium one. And then the hours started stretching. So the day become two. The almost imperceptible naughtyness on his side disappereared. I thought something was going to happen. I thought I was going to enjoy his company and to be honest not just that. I’m such a fuck up.
Guess i’ll be featured in the next Guinness World Records book. Biggest Screw Up.
But each time I tell myself that I, well I can’t stand the pain But when you hold me in your arms, I’ll sing it once again I’ll say come on, come on, come on, come on and take it
So I was working today, a couple came to check-in. She phoned this morning letting us know it was going to be his birthday and she wanted to organize something special for her boyfriend.
While he was parking the car we gave her a card to write to accompany the bottle of bubbles to go to the room. She got emotional and started cry. We offered a Kleenex, he came back and they went to the room.
The card just said “Doesn’t matter where you are, it only matter who you are with. I love you”.
Plain and simple. So true. Made my heart cringe. I was in the corridor and could not remember what love felt like. What happiness felt like. What actually feeling something for someone felt like.
The night is always the hardest time.
My dog is snoring beside me and I’m wide awake.
Images fill my head. Most of them are streets, nature and places. Not people, just feelings. I miss it so much. The colours. The big sky and clouds. The melancholy it made me feel. Don’t get me wrong, I love my home. It’s just that I’m broken. When you travel and live abroad that’s how it works. You just feel it. You don’t belong anywhere but everywhere. And nowhere is how you felt home before you started.
Friday night I left home like a gipsy. Guess what? I met him. He is loosing more hair, was wearing a stupid jeans and sheep jacket and he still was the most beautiful thing for miles. I behaved. I stayed in my corner. Got an hello. Happy days. Not.
I just feel so empty.
“Vulnerability is the essence of romance. It’s the art of being uncalculated, the willingness to look foolish, the courage to say, ‘This is me, and I’m interested in you enough to show you my flaws with the hope that you may embrace me for all that I am but, more important, all that I am not.'”
Vulnerability. What’s that?
Days pass by and I just need some kind of contact. I don’t want anyone that fucks with my brain. I just want not to think. I already gave up my vulnerability and I got it back.
I downloaded Tinder, but to I am embarrass to actually set it up and use it. Some days I just wish I was living in a big city. I know everyone here and I don’t have any physical attraction to anyone.
If I was a boy I would say “Hard days”.
You are in the DNA between the molecules
The more Valentine’s Day approaches the more I feel weird. It’s not because of the thought of love and bla bla bla, it’s because that was the night we got together. It’s so weird. I would love to say I never think about him, I would love that it was real. But no. I do. I do miss him every fucking day. I haven’t seen him in over a month.
I got a new haircut and I finally found a job. Life is getting better but there is still something missing.
God. I need sex. I need physical contact. I need someone that fucks my brain. How much I miss that. That’s the best warm up.
Oh yeah. I met my ex BFF. It was lovely. We said “Hi” without even looking at each other’s face. Wonderful. #sarcasticmuch
Tell me all of the things that you couldn’t before
Don’t walk away, don’t roll your eyes
They say love is pain, well darling, let’s hurt tonight.
Has been almost a week and I still didn’t hear anything from him. I didn’t write him either cause I thought I had to wait and see. And what I’m seeing is not what I was hoping for.
I wanted to tell him, or at least let him read it. Show him this blog and a letter I wrote. But is it worth it? I’m broken already, he just gonna walk over me.
I hate myself, my thoughts, my fucking idea of him. Nothing is like I lived it. Nothing.
And I feel so empty right now.
I’ve got this quote stuck in my head. I just want to stop thinking of him. It’s so painful.
I met him for a coffee on Saturday. I never felt so nervous sitting at the same table. We started chit chatting of normal stuff then he said to me that he met his ex and while they were speaking he told her what I said to him (why someone cheat), but I never told him that I cheated because was with him. Only him. I would have not done it even with Bradley Cooper. And then he said to her that I was mad cause she had him that way and didn’t understand anything of him. Those were my actual words. And he didn’t understand them. He didn’t get that all I meant. How much I care about him, what I would have done if I was so lucky to be with him. But no. I think he thought that I said that just to make him feel better. How did she not get that either?
I don’t know if laugh or cry.