Born: August 24th
Work: teacher by day, writer by night
Health: sometimes struggling to stay sane in her silly world
Love: trying not to let the inner child take the lead as much as possible, but, against all odds, it almost always has it its own way
Overview: Loves owls, books and fairy tales. Believes in good outcomes and quoting as a way of understanding life.
Favorite quote: Embrace the glorious mess that you are.
But what about waking up, having breakfast, walking, living? Would it ever be the same?
To put it differently, the guy sitting next to me was, again, perfect. But what does that mean? Well, he was just a regular guy, living a regular life, participating in mine. Besides that, we didn’t fight a lot. He would let me do things my way, and he didn’t like coffee. He adored sweets and dogs. Twisted, right?
But then, I was briefly reminded that there was always the me in me that wanted out of this pretend life, out of this role I wanted to play; being myself on the outside looking in, seeing all that I want and repressing it ‘cause it is the way I’d gotten used to living. Being with a man I thought I wanted, but then realized I actually don’t. ‘Cause with time, ever since the red flowers died, everything had become all silenced, lessened, insufficient, diminished.
He kept apologizing: when we made a mistake, and then when I did, also. In the end, he apologized for being himself, and not someone else… And he was right, having in mind that I did want someone who knew how to say no to me. Someone I would have to make to do something, not just to agree with me. And maybe I didn’t want to drink coffee in the morning, but maybe I wanted to smell coffee in the morning, without drinking it. Maybe I needed to get in a fight once in a while, to be yelled at: to remind myself who he really is, and that we are still us. ‘Cause that is what fights are for: a reality check.
Heck, I was craving for a good fight! Not a serious, big one, but one about what movie we were going to watch that night. Agreeing to watching one, and then changing my mind when it starts, or making fun of it all the way through. Being myself and making life fun again.
Finding the one who would see it as fun, too. The one that could never ever get truly mad at me, no matter what happens to us. To be sure.
And if you are lucky, you get to be sure at least once.
Sure he won’t be mad, and sure about the moments when he will.
Sure that he would pick up the phone if I ever decided to dial his number.
So I did.
And he did. Read more...