Just saying

Since you claim
I'm so important
to you,

you should know
I'm a constant source of disappointment.
Deal with it
or get out.

Dream

In my dream
there was this boy
I was supposed to save.

He was going to be beaten.

I abandoned my cans of white spray paint
and ran after him in the university's corridors
stopping people and asking.

He was always ahead of me
and I was always just a step behind.

I woke up before I reached him.

Somehow,
it felt important.

Secrets

I'm carrying those of others
as well as my own.
It is so painful
to see what you know
and cannot share.
Their secrets
are now mine as well
and I sometimes think I'll break
under the joined weight.

Submerged

I feel as if
I have submerged
myself in cold water.

Everything is unreal
and distant.

Everything

is

cold.



(I'm sorry
for disappointing you.
If it makes any difference
I mostly disappoint myself).

Not forgetting, moving on

I may not be getting over you
or stop missing you
but I'm trying to look for others,
preferably different than you.
I don't want you
to be

a type.

I want you to be individual
like you deserve to be
but I'm still numbing the feelings,
not pushing them back
but recognising them
accepting them
and then forgetting them.

I'm not forgetting you
I couldn't
even if I tried.

I'm just trying to erase you
from the present
leave you in the past
where I am as well
for you.

I'm not forgetting
but I stop myself from seeing you everywhere
I remind myself that Rome and Italy
will always be there
and there will always be this boy
that I will want to try to heal
but I cannot tie them to you
-even if they are somehow -
because in that way I'm diminishing them.

And there will be others
who will kiss me goodnight
goodbye
who will make my heart skip a beat
break
who will make me happy
cry
and that's ok
sad.

I'm not forgetting
I'm just trying to remember
that life moves on.
So do we
so did you
so will I.

*

These days my desires can be summed up to
drink
sleep
and leave.

There's nothing wrong
but there's nothing right either.

Just

tiredness.

The most unbearing thing of all: silence. The emptiness of sound.

It annoys me
that I should still care.
Why do I hold on
to an attachement I formed on my own?

Don't forget me,
I said.
How could I?
was the reply.

And then
      
            silence.

Feel

I feel too much
or not at all.

Both are

agonising.

Partings*

There's a bit of sadness
and warmth
in hearing someone you met a week ago
and will never see again
tell you
"I wish I had gotten to know you more."

Every once in a while

If you don't mind
I'm just gonna stubbornly
keep in touch with you.

Just to make sure
you're "alright"
every once in a while.

(Do me a favour
and get some sleep).

Shame

People somehow expect me
to save them
from their loneliness.

Shame,
'cause I can barely save myself.

Rambles

There was something that I wanted to say.
Something important.
Except it's forgotten now.
I didn't forget you though.
Well,
ain't that a tragedy?

All hail,
the beers.

Restless hours

There are those restless hours,
in the darkness of the night
mostly,
where I can't bear to be anywhere
especially
home.

I want to be around people
but I can't stand anyone
and there is this constant sense
of drowning.

I want to get the fuck out of here.

*

Every day
I drown a little more.

Seems I can't be around people
after all.

Touched.

He touched me.
It might be stupid
and one-sided,
but he touched me
in my soul.
And that's what matters.

How pathetic.

Saturday night mobile notes*

Drunk and dancing
best combination ever.
Except I still think of him.
I'm a sucker for bad habits you know.

*I wrote this while out on Saturday on my mobile - I was quite tipsy at the time. Thought of polishing it up a bit, then changed my mind.

Tonight I have no words for you

Tonight I had to stop myself from messaging him.
First time in a long time.
Well, three and something weeks
(a day).

And I didn't ask anyone to stop me,
'cause they couldn't even if they tried,
and it wasn't for my ego
that I didn't even try.

It was mostly becase
I didn't think I'd get anything
that would beat the silence.

Not you. Him.

“Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn’t stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.”

—

Sylvia Plath  I still think of you of course. Oops, my bad, I mean of him. I won't address him anymore. Where was I? Oh. Yes. I remembered.   I still think of him of course. Long before the night falls, even amidst the noise. And I want to message him, I do, But in all this time he has not bothered and I hate this clingy, needy part of me that wishes we'd just talk. So I decided since I have no way of knowing since I only know the facts I'll act accordingly and cut it all off. Like a wound it'll sting and it will leave scar tissue behind.   I've always been fond of scars.   "If you still talk about it it still matters." If I stop talking about will it stop mattering?

Something not so old written in my cellphone

There are those days when everything is good
and easy
and busy
and then I spend some time alone
and when it all washes away
I still feel
like a stranger in my skin.

Too

My whole life
I've always felt like I'm too much.
Too emotional
Too cold
Too loud
Too quiet
Too close
Too far
Too fat
Too obscure
Too grotesque
Too arrogant
Too proud
Too insecure
Too clingy
Too distant.

Too overwhelming.

I feel like I'm neither here
nor there
always in the inbetween
Always a shadow
About to drift.

Country

It is not fair.
I fucking left the country
and everyday I think of you.
But then again
we have not been in the same country for some time now.

Wonder why I thought it's make
any difference
at
all.

Pretend

I just want to lie on my bed
and pretend
that you still want me.
Sometimes I still repeat in my head
that moment
under the covers
when you gently pulled me from the hips closer
and just placed your chest against my back
and buried your face in my hair
and your hand seeked my hand
and ignored the world and the morning light.

Paranoia

I know I've reached another level of paranoia
when everytime I start to draw
I still only want to paint
in colours that you can see.

Over

Message received.
End of discussion.
Bye.

Control

I'm in room
putting away stuff,
tidying up.

Small actions
that make me feel more

 in control.

 

Less

in pieces.

 

 



*

"If you leave
you're never
coming back.
Your mother knows this.
Your father will despair."

Or so my cousin said.

I wondered
whether it is so obvious
so plain and bared to see

my anxiety to leave.

Virginia

“I just miss you, 
in a quite 
simple 
desperate 
human 
way.”

—	Vita Sackville-West, Excerpt from a letter to Virginia Woolf

Silence *

If you think I don't see what you're doing there

you're right

I'm not.

 

Dammit don't ask me to message you when online

then disappear on me

go silent on me

for a month

with few

short

excuciatinlgy so

talks.

 

Doesn't change how I feel you know.

Does it change how you feel?

Is it even concious?

Nevermind the questions.

 

All that speaks

all I hear

is the silence.

 

 

 

(Sad to see you go)
I've started hoping that you'd stay
(Didn't we both know)
That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you

Ever thought of calling when you've had a few?
'Cause I always do

Pauses

When I pause
and reflect
on what I feel
what I do
I realise
how foolish it is

how foolish I am.

I head straight into things
not caring
if I crush my skull.

Let me pause this moment for while
ok?
Let me freeze them in place.
Let me not forget.
Let me get another shot at this
some time in a year.
Let me get a shot at you.

Fears

 

I've always been afraid

that all the attraction between us

was just that:

we filled the holes

each other had

in his soul.

 

 

Rain

Back then I knew why I was crying
Don't know
why I'm crying now,
what there is to let out.
I'm just letting them fall

and hope the rain outside
could somehow wash away
the dust inside my soul,
not just the streets.

I just need to cry something out

from inside.

Right?

You and I
are gonna be alright,
you know that right?

(Seperate we already are,
forgotten I already am,
I hope you're ok).

But in case you're not alright
I won't know
when we don't speak.
You know that right?

Armour

Every day when I dress,
put on my rings,
my little pendant that I favour these days,
my eye liner
my lipstick
I feel as if I'm putting on an armour.

Tired when I come back,
heavy from the weight of it,
taking it all off
feels like a small personal liberation.

Alone I don't have to try to avoid attention

 

anymore.



Future plans

In a year from now,
when I'll live closer
and everything will be softer
and the memories will have washed off

[the intensity of them rather]

I want to have a chance,
in a semi-dtunken conversation
in the early hours of the morning
before the light of dawn,

[when eyelids are heavier
and words sincerer]

I want to have the chance to tell you
of how I felt
a year back.

[No matter of the changes since then]

Of the terrible loneliness
the longing
the feeling of weakness

and then the numbness
arriving
uninvited
but welcome

however terrifying.

Light

One of the things
I really loved
was the light in your eyes
when you looked at me.

One of the things
I really hate
is doubting
it was ever there.

Need/Want

There are
certain things I need.
I need air.

There are
certain things I want.
I want you.

When I can't have
what I want
I'll settle
for what I need.

And brainwash my self
into changing my wants.

Plan

Above all
others need stability.
I need

an escape plan.

Silent

We're silent.
I'm empty.
We talk.
I'm happy and sad
at the same time.

I think
I'll just
let you

fade.

Calmed and detached

I thought about it.
I thought and thought.
I talked about it.
On
and on
and on.
Of the distance,
your girl,
our mutual silence.
I hate it all.

I decided

to give it up.

To stop
asking,
on the inside,
for you to return
feelings that you cannot give back
at the moment.
Maybe you don't feel them.
Nevermind.

I'd rather
we talk,
I'd rather
settle
and be "friends",
I'd rather you trust me enough that you can tell me

"I need you.
I want to see you."

If you ever feel that way.

I'm going out with a guy tonight.
Maybe he'll occupy my head just enough
to trick myself
that I don't miss you as much.

someone

you can't bring yourself to sleep with someone
and suddenly
you can't sleep
without a specific
someone.

Deactivated

I hate hospitals.
Have I told you?
No, how could I
ever?

Yesterday was exhausting.
I went
to the hospital,
in the morning,
sleep-depraved

heart depraved

self depraved,
as always.

I crashed on the patient's bed
while she was in surgery.
(Against the rules,
but the nurse let me sleep.
I must have looked

horrific).

My limbs hurt
and were stiff
by the time I was replaced.
I looked at her
anxiously.
And she sleeped.
For a moment
the images of last week's funeral
all crushed in
all crushed me.

I'm terrified of old age.
The helpnessness.
The loneliness.
The inability to get up
and walk away.

And everything turned to white.

I immersed myself in the letters of Anais Nin
and Henry Miller,
desperatelly,
but that did not help

as her words
were my words
and his words
reminded me of you.
(Do you ever think of me
as such?)

I had the fashion show at night,
my body still hurts.
And then
weed followed.
With strangers
and a friend.
I half hoped
its narcotic fume
would enclasp me

would relax me

would erase me.

Sadly it did not.

I deactivated facebook
just for a while
to completely severe myself from you.

Just for a while.

I wonder whether you'll even realise
the complete absence
of connection.

No words
today.

Exhaustion

I realised yesterday
what I already knew.
You can't really connect with someone you cannot see,
you can't touch.
It's frustrating
to depend so much
on a little green dot.

After the funeral,
and before,
I wanted to speak with you.
To tell you of the exhaustion,
the mental and the physical one.
To tell you
that in order to go through the funeral,
and the memories that came unbidden,
I had to detach
and I did it so perfectly
that I'm still numb,
still unfeeling.
To tell you of how my friend,
my sister,
whispered in a hoarse voice,
"What you did today,
the way you held me,
supported me,
I will never forget."
I brushed it off,
because that is what friends do.
It was nothing special.
The only thing I'm aware of
is the pain on the inside of my skull
like something in there is trying to break out
and shatter my head.

The nights are empty
devoid of sleep.
During the day
I walk as an automaton,
exhaustion bringing on dizzyness.
At times I look around
disoriented.
Exhausted.
Trying to collect myself.

*

I see you in strangers
and those people
turn into instant magnets.

They pull me in
with false promises
of echoes of you.
But I dare not forget
they're their own person
who could destroy me
in their own unique way.
I'm scared I might fall
for someone like you
and never trust the feelings
for fear they might be an overzealous search for you
in an efford to forget you.

The thought of someone else's lips
kissing me
feels like a knife
against mine.

*

We spoke twice in a day.
Um.
Wow.

I felt
so surprised when you messaged me
in the early hours of the morning.
Happy,
weird,
I felt a lot of things.

I was with a friend,
smoking and drinking,
(bad habits bad habits)
and talking and thinking
too much,
we always do everything too much.
Think too much,
drink too much.

Feel too much.

The world is either too much
or not at all.

(Said "I miss you"
and you said
"me too".)

 

Little green dot

So sure I was
you didn't notice
I was surprised by your message.
I was surprised by my eagerness
surprised by my joy
surprised by how easy it still is to talk to you.

I've grown
so accustomed
to sadness
that I did not know
how to react against the surging wave of happiness.

I feel stupid though,
because I know
that after we talked,
at some point,
you probably fucked another.

(

not a problem to me

you've only to write to me

when you're here

)

 

So you said.

Probably so I shall do.

Until again,

it gets too much.

 

(Everything always

become too much with me.)

*Again*

That's the stupid part.
I want you.
I want you.

And the way you looked at me,
it couldn't be faked.

That's what hurts the most.
The could have beens.
The needs to be.
Please,

Fuck me.

Fuck everything.

Fuck this shit.

Fuck my weakness.

Silence

Yesterday night
I went to bed
drunk
naked save for my red oxfords
but to no avail.
Sleep seemed to escape me.
And I was tormented
by the memories that come unbidden
in the land between the Morfeus-embraced zone and those wide awake.

Awake
I stare at the green dot next to your name
and will you to message me
but really,
I've already lost all expectation.
You're already fading.
I think I already have completely.

And I said to myself
"When someone doesn't message you
it's either because of cowardice
or lack of interest.
Either way
it's
same shit,
cause you woulldn't know
any better.
No point in talking about it."

*

And it is
just the mention of your name
that makes me feel as if I'm high.

I wanna fuck strangers
until I forget
the feeling of your naked chest against mine.

I was fine before I met you

Shit.
No.
I'm lying.
I was lonely before I met you.
It's just I'm so much more lonely
since I met you.

Trouble with people are
the closer you get to them
the more you realise
you crave it
and when you can't have it,
you're just not sure
how to be act like before.

I don't want the before.

(It's love we're getting over
not pain)

I don't want the pathetic needy me.

I'm growing stronger.
I don't need you
in order to live.
I just want you to be
part of it.
All of it.

Shit.
Too much melodrama
from my behalf.

I should stop bullshitting myself

at some point.

Cold thoughts in a warm night

I kind of long for winter,
it's cold wind against my face,
deadening the senses
and waking the mind.

Sorry,
I'm lying,
mostly.
I kind of long for a winter
that will turn my skin to ice
which the warmth of your skin will break.

It's way too early
to be sure
you won't message me
on your own.

Otherwise,
I want a winter
cold enough
and busy enough
to erase all thoughts of you.

(The memories are too fond
to be forgotten.)

Parents

"You're always looking
for ways
to leave."

"It's as if
you don't even
live here
anymore."

Coming from my parents' mouth,
in my parents' voice,
it sounded
like the bitterest of accusations.


It's true though
I just never feel
that I belong.
I constantly need
to be
elsewhere.

*

I guess
the worst part
is just how ridiculous I feel
how insecure,
how much I want you to care.

I wonder
do you even notice
when we do not talk?

I wonder,
do you ever even miss me at all?

I hate myself
for all this emotional weakness.
I feel like
fucking anyone I might fuck
until my body's numb,
my heart alseep
and the brain
cares no longer.

*

And here I am
in my black
sexy underwear,
wishing there was
someone
here
to appreciate them

then

realising
that what I wanted was you
to take them off
and join my skin
to yours.


(P.S. I answer your comments under the posts in the comment section - there is a button thay says reply. Do you get any notification of sorts?)

Rambling #2

I fucked myself
ah much
as hard
and as tenderly
as I could

and wished instead

it was you.

Post
probably to be deleted.
Or not.

Ramblings #1

And I had
to bite my lip
to keep from
screaming your name.

I was afraid
I might hear
my scream

and realise

just what it meant.

Your
dear
dear ghost.

By the way

I want you.
That's
the damnest thing
of all.

'Cause I now know
the feel of your skin
against my own.

And I want it.
So much,
I can feel
the hunger in my belly,
and lower
between my legs.

Fuck this wine.

It makes me
more honest
than I'm
comfortable
to admit.

But worst of all
is the hunger
of the heart,
that you
temporatily
satisfied.

A note from the tipsy ones

Finally
after three
and a half
glasses of wine,
I feel
the welcome
slight dizzyness
of alcohol.

And I long
for your touch,
your breath
against my skin,
my voice
softly saying
"don't worry
I got you"
as if,
that were enough
to make up
for the whole world.

And I miss
your legs entwined with mine,
your arms clutching me
tightly
to your chest,
your laugh,
innocent
as a child's,
your touch,
making my body
shiver with electricity.

I dream of you,
miles away,
and need
the feel of you
against me.

I'm so afraid
that to you
I'm merely
amusing.

Heavy

These days
my legs hurt
and my soul
is soaring.

I feel
I'm acting
at time.
I feel
that
maybe
I forgot how to dance.

But

I'm more
terrified
that
I've forgotten
how to live.

Days are empty
and nights
more lonely still.
I try
to find myself
now that I still can.

I feel like
I'm on recovery.

My plans
for the future year
are
to be as busy
as possible.
Busy enough
that
I will keep going
until exhaustion
drives my mind
my limbs
my lips
into heavy sleep
and I'm no more,
I think no more
and insomnia
stays with me
no longer.

You.

  (Sometimes I feel ridiculous when writing here. That people will judge me as weak and a crybaby. That I keep talking about guys.
  But then I realise that this is merely because that's the side of me that I want to express in this blog.
  So I don't care really.)

You.
You came unexpectedly.
It's less than a month since I met you,
and we spent together less than two weeks.

And in that time
you gave me

everything.

I've never felt so loved
or happy
or content
as when you looked at me.

And you didn't even fuck me.

You kissed me properly once.
In the end.
I think
you waited
on purpose.

Because you knew.

And sometimes I wonder
whether you think of me.
Then I remember
your girl back home,
how you said
you think you're in love
for the first time.
And I know
your thought rarely flies at me
and I smile at that.

She may hold your heart
but for a time
you gave me
everything.
And I never thought
I'd get as much
from anyone.

I've never connected
so fast
and so deep.

I miss you
I crave you,
your words
your eyes,
your beautiful,
beautiful sad mind,
the light kisses you planted on my cheek,
surprisngly fast,
as if
you couldn't help yourself.
Your honesty
raw and naked and bared
ensnared me.

I enjoy our conversations
perhaps more than I should.
You helped me recover
myself
from the darkness
I had let my self fall in.

You're the first one
I'd like to have in my life
in whatever way
you can be in it.
I told you,
I'll take anything
you want to give me.

You're the first person
I don't want to talk about much
because I'm scared
of people
spoiling my memory of you.

Your dear ghost.

 

 

Loss

Today I feel such
a profound loss,
that all I can do

is cope.

*

I'm leaving tomorrow. And I could choose to leave without going to one last milonga tonight. I could choose to do that but I won't. I could choose to leave without risking the chance of seeing you once before I go, of being ignored by you. Is this how it's going to go?

You'll come closer
and then not?

Will I
always
always
watch you from afar
sometimes
watching you watching me.

I could choose to stay.
I could choose to not go away for a few days.
I could choose to sit by all this time,
hoping I might catch a glimpse of you
hoping I own a thought of you.

I could choose to ignore
the gaping place in my heart.
I could choose to cry that you're going far.

But really
I think of you
as already being

away.

I could choose to wait
except I can't.

*

Every time we meet now,
it's strange,
but somehow,
when we part,
I always leave a little emptier.

I envy you
in your wholeness.

"It is truly cruel for your life to be so dependent on words or glances." - Tasos Leivaditis

“

later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?

 

it answered 
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere.

”

—

Warsan Shire I think today was the first time that I almost cried in anticipation for your departure. I hate how one moment there's intimacy between us and then it's like we're strangers. My mood was high and then you came and now it's so low I'm choking. I have other problems you know. Other little concerns that gnaw the inside of my mind. Fears and thoughts I never discuss with anybody. And all you ever do is choke me. I talk and smile And I feel as if I'm not breathing. Sometimes I feel as if I'm not even there. I miss you and you were never even there.

In so many ways yesterday night was nearly perfect. I danced with a man, with whom I had wanted to dance for a long time. I was tired and dizzy - I've fucked up my body again - but I was among friends and happy almost and the day included everything I wanted for that day to include.

Except you.

And then you'll leave and all this will be

 

 

over.

Overcome

  A subtle nod in my direction when noone is looking in as a silent compliment to my appearance. A look through a mirror that lasted more than a random one would have lasted until I drove my gaze elsewhere - I was afraid I'd see you avert your eyes first and that would hurt more. You got up and left afterwards. Your eyes following me when I dance milonga with someone else - I had been waiting for you to ask me you idiot.

  The truth is there is a part of me that aches with anticipation for your departure. Not because I don't want you as much as before, but because I feel that I've given you too much power over my emotions. We have not danced for two weeks and that makes my throat dry - you consume my heart, your presence sometimes is too overwhelming. Most of the time Sometimes I can't stand to be near you and her anymore. I want to get up and rush away from you, the presence of you both makes me feel like drowning.

 

Fragments of moments, of days.

I could already feel your absence like a thorn in my heart. Time is going by in a painfully high speed and I can feel every memory already slipping into oblivion. It was all so absolutely clear that it pained me and saddened me. I leaned on my friend's shoulder and whispered "El dolor, el dolor."

The pain, the pain.

*

I left because your presence or the lack of it drowned me and that scared me.

*

But I came back eventually, I needed a break to clear my head. Not sure that I managed that but it helped anyway.

*

When I think of how many days I won't have the chance to see him in August because I'll be away, my breath catches in my lungs and my heart pumps blood faster in my vains. I'm overcome with anxieties.

*

On the first day that I left I smoked over 20 cigarettes. I don't smoke though and after that I didn't smoke again. All the time I singed a tango that I love. 

Dame el humo de tu boca.
Anda, que así me vuelvo loca.
Corre que quiero enloquecer
de placer,
sintiendo ese calor
del humo embriagador
que acaba por prender
la llama ardiente del amor.

"I've told you already that I enjoy dancing milonga with you more than I do with her, right?"

  That's what you told me last time we met. You hadn't asked me to dance for some time and last week you pissed me off, declining and immediatelly asking someone else. You don't undersand how desperate I am to dance with you when I ask you to dance - that's why I try to stop. Because you can seek me out when you want to.

  But these few dances are the only thing I can have from you. You have a girlfriend, someone that I know. And you're leaving. You too are leaving. I'm counting the days until you leave. I try to find a way to miss as few opportunities as possible to see you until you leave.

  And the closer I get the more confused I get. There's a distance between the two of you already and there's a strange intimacy between us. You know me less than a year, you act closer to me than you do to other women in the party. I can sometimes feel the attraction between us, it takes my breath away.

  Yes, you have told me before that you enjoy dancing milongas with me more than you enjoy dancing them with her. You said you have no chemistry in the milonga. So I guess that means you have more chemistry with me. You said those two women were saying how beautifully we dance as we danced before them.

  I did not care. All I cared for was the pressure of your chest against mine, the warmness of your breath, your hand around the whole of my back (you don't always place it that far around), my hand on your back a bit higher than I usually place it (I tried to lower it but it always seemed to find its way up again so I just restrained it from climbing further back.)

  All I cared about was the sound of your hearbeat, or was it mine, or both, pounding between our chests. And I wished that milonga never had to stop.

  (By the way, you didnot have to tell her that you dance milonga with me better, or to tell her that that's the way to dance milonga. She is, after all, a much better dancer than me.)
  (I think we'll both end up burned by the flame we dance so close to).

Last night

  I was feeling annoyed suddenly. Restless. I wanted to get up and leave.
  So I got up and left. I said some rush excuse that I was going to meet a friend. Everyone dumbfounded. They were worried. You're leaving? Alone? At such an hour? The truth is I had spoken with a friend of mine but I never did go meet him.
  I strolled around the streets in my pretty dress and red lipstick and thought about Tony. I wanted to message him, see if he were in the area. It was 3 a.m. Maybe we could go for a drink. Maybe he could just take me home. Maybe he was sleeping and wouldn't see it at all. How would I know? I never sent the message.
  Damn, unfinished bussiness shouldn't sting so much.
  But the truth is, as I walked down the empty streets and ignored the catcalls and wished for a drink there was one question going around in my head.
  Could I please just fuck him once before he leaves?

You don't see someone for a long time and you dread the moment that you might see them

And then you see them and you mind basically goes ahjdfakjlfgiewughqerkjhf and then blank.

I'm in a weird situation. For months now I've been in love with this guy who has a girlfriend and who's getting way close to me (that is, considering the amount of time we've been talking) and who I think is interested in me but won't do anything because he has a girlfriend.

And he's leaving. In a couple of months. To study abroad.

Deja vu much?

He's been asking me lately why I've been dressing up more at tango. Last time he was pretty insistent even though I was talking with a friend until I turned around and calmly looked him in the eye and said "It's none of your business," and turned my back to him.

And yesterday I was at a milonga and I was dancing and suddenly I open my eyes and there is Tony, few meters away, chatting with the woman he was dancing. And I think for a moment I really did lose my capacity to think.

It wasn't until a couple of dances later that I brought my self to wave at him - I don't think he had seen me until then.

And after that I lost him in the crowd.

And he messaged me today. And for a moment I couldn't breathe.

I knew that feeling the moment I felt it.

It's called unfinished business.

Oh fuck me.

Well if I had thought I was not in the best of moods before going to the milonga, then after it what little good mood I had had before had hit rock bottom and rock bottom hit back.
The first let down was that he was not there - but then again, at least his girlfriend wasn't either.
Then finding out while talking with the new girl that he had danced with her three tandas was a blow in the stomach. It's ridiculous but I'm jealous of the attention he gives to other people even though to him I'm nothing more than just another person.
Then the fight with A fucking killed my mood. And actually it was my mistake. I know she's a private person and I said something that was probably not heard because over the music but nevertheless it should not have been spoken. It was something seemingly insignificant but had it been heard it might not have been and she got mad.
And for God's sake I'm literally thinking of just telling her to stop confessing stuff to me because I can't handle my big mouth and I'll probably let something slip in the future - things that in my eyes are not a problem but for her they are and that's what matters. I've been trying really hard to control everything but obviously it's not working and I rather be an acquintance than a problem.
After she got up and went to dance I downed my martini in one go and left without telling anyone goodbye. I trembled all the time until the bus came that someone I knew might pass by the bus stop and see me crying.
I just really need to step back for a moment.

Boundaries

  I have the tendecy to become overfriendly when I meet someone and I happen to like them as a person (or for whatever reason feel guilty towards them or at ease with them). But try as I might I never seem to be able to recognise their boundaries. I always seem to cross some line that I had never seen in the first place and when I'm snapped back to reality I'm left reeling. I retreat back into myself and I try to squize everything in one little heart beating in my chest. 

In truth I'm always alone. There are some rare moments when I'll forget that but that never lasts. I always remember that I'm either too much for others to stand or too little. (I'm usually too much but I feel too little). In all honesty, sometimes I just want to flip a switch and just sort of slip into a state of lacking emotions. I wish I did not care for people at all and that fantasies and books and music were enough but in truth they're not.

It's all or nothing with me and I've realised that I'm letting tango take up too much of my time. I just need to step back for a moment and recollect myself. I should just give a little bit of my self to things and people and in reality give nothing of my self. Otherwise I give them more than they care for and I need to be reminded that not everyone is interested in anything more than an acquintance. 

It makes me sad sometimes. I tell people that the reason I've never been in a relationship is that it just hasn't happened but perhaps the reason is that there's something wrong with me. Maybe I need to lose myself a little.

Maybe I don't care to keep me anyway.

And I've come to think tango is watching the one you love loving someone else and dancing that pain away. Or dancing to celebrate the ability to feel it at all.

And I can't decide which I prefer, which hurts me more: your friendship or your disinterest.

Headaches

  These past few days my head hurts. It's like a small amount of pressure has sat near the temples of my head  and won't leave. I sleep a lot or not at all and my body is trying to keep up. At least I eat more healithily now. And I'm trying to start going to the gym. And I'm trying to get myself going to at least swim in one direction or the other, regardless of whether it's the right one. At least I won't be in the same place anymore. 

  I have not seen him since Sunday and though I know where to find him a part of me happily avoids it. I can feel the attraction but I'm scared of having to fight it with his girlfriend sitting near by and chattering happily at me. Even though I'm generally very ablr at controlling myself and my emotions in public, during the last month I slipped a bit and I think anyone who might have cared could have noticed. Perhaps that is why he is avoiding dancing with me. Maybe that one time over a month ago he felt me trembling slightly in his arms. Maybe just maybe I wish to at least be burned this once. Maybe I'm just plain tired of living life on the other side of the wall that I have built around myself. I don't dare anyone step one tiny bit too close even if I want them to. It's a lonely way to live even if it is a "safe" one. Too bad I don't know how else to live.

  So I sit in the living room writing all this one sunny Saturday noon, listening to Zbigniew Preisner and Bach and wishing for glass of wine.

Maybe

"Maybe we've become too 'acquinted'," you said and I translated "Maybe you've overstepped the line."
That's exactly what I've been thinking. Excuse me, my bad, just give me a moment to retreat back to myself.