Fragments

  I had missed smoking. I had missed it so fucking much. I just did. So when I had the opportunity to smoke once again, I took it and chain-smoked about six cigarets one after the other. The ridiculous thing is that I've never actually smoked, just a cigaret here and there, in between months. Yet every day my fingers ache for it and I bring them to my face as if they're holding an invisible cigar. And I don't even like the stuff. I kept drinking vodka and wine to wash off the taste.

  And it felt... good in a peculiar way. As if my worries were being burned away. Turned into ashes and smoke. As if I were, or at least the parts of me that I prefer to ignore, were turned into ashes. But when I left and afterwards returned to the empty apartment I realised that our faults, like our memories and everything that makes us up, may be momentarily burned, but the stale smell that covers everything afterwards and hangs in the inside of your nostrils, in your lungs, is evidence of what has exactly happened.
  And only you can change something you don't like.

  I pressed my back against the wall and locked the door and then went to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed. I didn't wake up until my phone rung the following morning. I slept in the arms of an invisible lover - I really do wish there was someone. I'm not interested in anyone at the moment and though I'm content, I'm also lonely. I wish I had someone to keep warm with under the covers.

I'll try to never smoke again.

Fragments #9

It's been a long time, I know. In my head I kept writing posts and notes and in real life I kept on post-poning writing them. I talked with Ellie before I left for New York one quiet September night, while we were sitting on a bench somewhere in the city.
  I was as calm and careful as I could.
  As diplomatic as I could.
  And she listened.
  And said she was sorry.
  And it still feels as if she's too far away.
  I know why she is like this, so judgemental, shallow even. I know how she has been raised, how she has been treated, demeaned, all her life. By her own parents. Her own family. I can see where she's coming from. I understand. That's why I don't blame her as much. That's why I excuse things that piss me off.
  Like her telling me to try and get out of the uni that I just got in, inspite of the fact that I like it, because "I have no talent for it." I have not even tried it! It has always been like that with things I wanted to try out. She always says "You don't have the talent for it." But I have not tried seriously.
  And even if I don't have a particular talent in something, damn it, my best friend should not be the unsupportive one.
  So we speak. We talk. It feels as if a connection has been lost.

  New York was... It was different. Comforting. Even though I was a stranger, I felt at home in its bustling streets. I felt content with the anonymity, with the ability to just sit down and observe the people around you. I felt surounded by people, and their stories, and their lights, and the stories of their lights. I felt like I could make anything happen. I felt I had opportunities and if I didn't, I could make some.
  I liked the feeling of the city. I could probably live there.
  The anonymity. The opportunity to begin from a blank slate.
  That's what I would like.

Fragments #8

  The shoes pinch my toes. I have to lean against the wall to stand. The theater is a summer one and when looking up you can see the sky. I press myself against the wall and look up at the starry sky as I hear the other actors say their lines and the applause. And then it is my turn to go on the stage. I do the converasation as I am supposed to do. Then, infuriated (as the character of the role I played becomes), I raise my voice high, high enough that nothing moves in the theater, no sound is heard. I shout a cry for union, a cry of despair. At that moment, I am not me, I have become one with the role I played, small as it may have been.
  When I get backstage people tell "Now this was some serious voice. Some serious balls."
  But my knees trembled all the while.

  Later, around 3a.m. we get a cab, S, L and I. Some of the others decided to go back on foot. The driver asks the boys how come we got a taxi and L said "We had the safety of the girl to  mind. We couldn't let her go back home alone."
  It was appreciated.

  I'm looking for some sort of the familiar fluttering in my stomach but there's only an echo of it.

  I hope L remembers to bring me back my keys.

P.S. To Bathwater: Thank you for your comments. I had no way to contact you so I say so here.

Fragments #7

For a blog that is called "Emilia's theories" this has very few theories.

Maybe I'll change it to "Fragments and theories"

Friday morning and I am alone. I wake up feeling L next to me, although the closest our bodies have been was when I was crying and he held me. The past few days I cry at night for no particular reason. I press the pillow to me, pretending it's him that holds me. We all need someone to hold us from time to time. And there's usually a particular "someone" we want.

It's Thursday evening and Tony has not come to the tango class. I feel disappointed. I call him afterwards and he calls me back. He says he didn't forget but he was training and because of the bad weather he couldn't reach the port. He'll make it up to me he says. I smile and say it's ok and tell him that they brought some dresses for the show of July.
  "How were they?"
  "They were... um... they were... bad. A lot."
  "Are these the ones you'll wear?"
  "God, no! They were some suggestions," I say as I cross the street.
  He asks me when my exams begin. Monday, I tell him.
  "Well, I'm gonna call you on sunday and wish you luck." I thank him and we don't hang up. We keep talking for a while and the discussion goes to his cats (no idea how that happened). We talk a bit more and then we both sort of have to go.
  "Talk to you soon."

  It's Thursday morning and during tutoring F touches my leg lightly with his hand. It was a signal about something the teacher said but it felt weird. He's been talking to me more now. Not sure that's a good thing. At night, after the tutoring (we had both in the morning and then after 8.30p.m.) F, the rest of the guys in my class and I order pizzas and beers. We all tease each other, in the comfortable way friends do. (We just hang out well that's all).
  Then later F texts me "If I insulted you, I'm sorry I got carried away having fun... You're not mad, are you?"
  I call him and ask what the hell he's talking about and he says nothing, it's just that sometimes he gets carried away and says bullshit.
  I think now he was referring to how he and M were teasing me about the unfeminine way I said something the other day. I was sleepless and not very graceful. My only answer to them was "I'm feminine only when it matters. And with those that I want to be."

  Wensday noon. We throw a surprise party at girl for her birthday over at her place, us the kids from the theatrical team. I ask a guy if the told L. He comes to me panicking few minutes later and tells me they forgot then proceeds to call him. He says he can come.
  I can be so sly when I want to.
  He came afterwards. He was with K at the kitchen and they were discussing about the upcoming exams. K left afterwards then Chris came for some water, along with this girl M. We somehow discussed height and M said that basketball has nothing to do with getting taller. She used to play and yet she's short. Chris and L joked about whether she was sure she was playing basketball and not football.
  "You know," I said as I poured water, "we're not experts but I think we can discern one sport from the other."
  "Very well," L told me, "What's offsite?"
  "Oh for fuck's sake you and the offsite. Why does everybody ask me that?" L laught and at that moment I was happy. Chris started explaining to me what offsite is and L left the kitchen, first squeezing my shoulder a bit as he walked by.

  I was sitting next to that girl, Dimi, who's L's friend, and we were talking. Before leaving L came and sat on her lap. They hugged and all the time he kept making funny faces at me.
  What's wrong with my taste in men?
  After he left I got out, at the balcony, passed by Chris and some other boy and went to the end of the balcony. I watched until his figure was out of sight. I then stayed there, feeling a soft breeze on my face. At that time I wanted to smoke. I don't even like smoking.
  After a while I saw Chris coming over.
  "Why are you sitting here alone?"
  "Too much noise inside."
  After that we talked for some time. About his dreams, about mine. Our families. Some guys called us, asked us what we were doing. Talking what does it look like? Chris's a cool guy. We kept talking and at some point people came to collect us. We're going out for drinks after the exams.
  Ire likes him. And she's definatelly coming with us for drinks.

  It's Thuesday night and I've come to collect Ire from her tutoring. L comes out along her and plays a bit with my dog. I hug Ire and beg her to come to school the following day.
  "It's the last day of classes! Our last day as students!"
  "Last day?" L asks.
  "As far as I know."
  "Maybe I'll come then."
  "Oh yes, do!" I reply enthusiastically, still holding Ire.

  The following day he came.

Fragments #6

It's Friday Night. Past midnight, I lay on my bed. The bedside lamp is on and a yellowy glow fills the room. Amy Winehouse is playing on my pc, softly. My limbs feel sore and stiff, I forgot to stretch after I played basketball during Physics class - I obviously diched the class. My cellphone is next to my ear on the bed and I'm speaking with Annie. she's reading to me some of the texts T has been sending her. It seems to me that he likes her but doesn't dare to say so outright.
  I'm trying not to think of L and I fail so I sip my wine instead. I feel lonely and tired and sad. I'm sleepy and my body feels heavy. I exchange goodbyes with Annie and go to sleep but to no avail. Sleep has abandoned me. I twist and turn on my bed trying, hoping, to lose consiousness. I decide to text Ellie.
  "Insomnia fucking sucks. Just saying." I type and then press send. And realise than I accidentally texted L instead of Ellie. I bite my lip to keep from screaming - mother is sleeping next door - and prey to God that he is asleep.
  He's not. "Huh?" comes the answer.
  I apologise quickly, explain that phones with a touch-screen are really stupid and text him goodnight.
  "Ok
  Goodinght!"
  comes the answer. I put the phone on my nightstand, turn around and fall asleep.

  It's Thurdsay and I'm at my tango class. My dance partner, Tony has his right hand around my waist and holds me firmly as we swirl on the floor and I fall agaist him as I'm supposed to do - thanks choreography - and re-assures me when I make mistakes. When we talk he makes me laugh and when we dance I blush (though not as much as I did at first). He even makes the thought of L go away for a while (to forget him completely is impossible) and he makes me laugh. Sometimes it's difficult, I wonder what it would feel like to kiss him, tango is difficult when you're lonely. He's 23 and I'm 18. The rest in the group are around 40.
  They calls us "the little ones".

It's Wensday night and I'm coming back from tutoring. And suddenly I bump into L. We talk for a while, he says he won't come to school again until the Exams, I tell him that I'll go on Thursday. It's late and I tell him "Well, goodnight then, I wouldn't like to keep you." He shrugs as if he's not tired and wants to go home. Afterwards I'm both sad and happy. Such a weird sensation.
  On Friday morning I learn that he went to school on Thursday.

Fragments #5

  The other night I had fever. I was writhing between the sheets, drenched in sweat, caught in that state between sleep and being awake. Sometimes everything was starkly visible and I was awake and others I seemed to be lost in shadows. I remember the heat of my body, it felt like it consumed me. I remember me wishing he was there to beat the heat with the touch of a cool hand against my skin. Or if he was still sick, if he was still feverish, for his flesh and mine to simply touch and if the fire grew stronger let the bloody flames consume, I thought.

  I also remember that no amount of wishing actually made him be there.

  And I closed my eyes and turned on my left side and wispered at the wall everything I wanted to tell him. But the air carrying the words stayed locked, imprisoned in the sickroom and the wind couldn't take the words to him.

  I was on the train with Ellie today. I took in a deep breath and said "Maybe I'll ask him out after the Exams."

  "Yes!" she exclaimed, "Do that! I've been telling you to for some time now. I mean, I asked you know who out." Sometimes I wonder whether she can finally decide whether L likes me or not.

  We were sitting in silence, the train rocking us rhythmically, the city going by. "You know," she said breaking the silence, "he does like you. I know that."

  "Just not enough."

  

  I got in a fight with mom the other day. Actually about two weeks ago. She managed to get me so mad that I left home in the dead of night, screaming at the top of my lungs and kicking trees. I've never felt so out of control. I've never lost control before. It scared me.
  I didn't care then. 

  It's just that everything gets bottled up inside and when it comes out it hits anything in its way. I've never reacted so violently before, I never even react violently.

  Some days afterwards mom pissed me off enough that I kicked a chair and it flew accross the room and a cabinet door which now has come partially off its hinges. Mom doesn't know.

  Since then I've been ok. I am now controlling my emotions.

Find me now. Before someone else does.

Fragments #4

I'm drunk, slightly, but enough to be a bit dizzy. I can still control myself. I listen to music in the dark. Good thing I can't text him. Amy Winehouse is playing.

F kissed me on the cheek the other day and I felt nothing. And there I was hoping I was falling in love with him. And now I realise that I'm only seeing him in as a friend. And I think I'm fucking with his head.
  I'll deal with this when I have to deal with this. I don't want to lose him as a friend. He's understands me too well.

I've been writing some poems for L.
He'll never see them.
I dare say they're rather good.

I need to go to sleep. That's all I've been doing in the past few days. Sleep.

I need him and he's not there. To his credit, he doesn't know either.

Fragments #3

We were going back from school, Annie, E and his best friend (one of the two). We had finished school early. And I was telling L's best friend "Send a text to T, we should tease him." (T is his other best friend.) And S laughed and took out his cell.

  "I'll text L because whenever he gets off early he rubs in the fact I'm still at school. i'll send him something along the lines of 'Guess where I am, over at your girl's place'." And we all fell silent 'cause last November (in 2010) I told you I liked you and we all knew that. I think S realised a tad bit too late what he said because in truth he was taking me home (we usually do that since we live near) and obviously I'm not your girl. 

  You have a girl?

  I think you don't.

  

  This girl was wearing your jacket today and while I was speaking with Annie she came next to me and blew me a kiss. We were in the same theatrical play and she's a nice and friendly person. I nearly turned green when I saw her wearing your jacket.

  "You will only get over your feelings for him once you come to terms with them and all the anger they 'cause you," Marcie said yesterday. The milk she served me tasted good especially along with the cinnamon cookied her mother baked.

  We haven't talked since since Wensday. I miss him even though I see him.

Fragments #2

Past midnight, last night, Ellie and I sitting on a bench in the square with a shared beer can. We sometimes do that. "You know," she said, "I'm your friend and that's why I tell you this but, he's just not into you. If he really were, he'd make an actual move. Now, he's just flirting."
  "I know," I said and drank some beer. "And if I had any form of self-preservation - emotional that is - I'd get it in my head and I'd get him out off my heart."
  The night was still around us.

I was supposed to write an essay last night. I have to go and hand it in today at some point. Instead I got up at noon and put the music and did some little chores around the house.

I still log on Fb hoping he will be online. Not that we'd chat but it's nice to know he's there and not somewhere else having fun with his friends. Or some girl.
  Who's the lonely soul now?

Fragments #1

There it was again: that conversation.
"My problem is," J said, "she doesn't want to get over him." I rolled my eyes and sipped my beer. But I did. I did want to get over him.
  "You don't understand," Ellie stepped in defending me, "not everyone works the way you do."
  "Oh, come on Ellie, it's her choice. She chooses this situation, that's what annoying me."
  I kept on drinking, pretending I didn't hear, wondering whether any other of the clients in the bar had heard. At some point I had had enough. "J stop. I'm in love with this guy, ok? Doesn't matter whether he deserves it or not, that's the truth."
  "Bullshit Emilia, that's bullshit. You're not in love with that guy."
  How would you know? I wanted to ask but I bit my tongue. You've never been in love. All you've ever done is toy with those people's emotions. And one day you'll fall in love and then you'll understand.
  "Shut up J! For fuck's sake you don't know what's going on in people's head alright?" Ellie defended me.
  I sipped my beer. "J leave me alone. What you say is true, to some point. And I could, if I wanted to, to get with another guy, even just for fun, but I just don't operate like that. At some point, my point, I'll get over him and that's the end of that."
 

  At that moment, all I wanted to do is smoke. It's a bit ridiculous, I don't even smoke. I've tried it and didn't like it. But sometimes my fingers tremble with the need to hold a cigarette. I don't like the stale taste it leaves to my mouth. But I still kind of miss the burning in my lungs and throat.
  At least then something else burns rather than my heart.

  My emotions have been on a roller coaster lately. The other day he was going over my skeches when he came accross of that one, the drawing of a shirtless guy. I had done it very well actually. It even looked like the person I used as a model. He paused for a moment. I didn't see his expression.
  Did you feel any jealousy, I wonder? I hope you did.