Theory #23: When something goes well, expect something else to go wrong.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one area of your life starts going well another falls spectacularly to pieces, said Bridget Jones.
  She forgot to mention that the opposite rarely applies.

  I begun the preparation for the University of Fine Arts, I got over L and now I sort of fancy Tony. Remember Tony? My tango partner? Yeah well, the thing is that when I talk about him I blush immensely and that when we had a two-hour-long rehearsal we rehearsed for half an hour and we talked the rest. He makes me laugh and when we dance together I relax. When he looks into my eyes he makes me smile immediatelly.
  That's... not good exactly, in the sense that I just got over someone whom I liked for the past three years, I'm not sure that falling for someone else is the safest thing to do. Especially if that someone is leaving the country by the end of the month and won't be back for a few months.
  Even if he said he'd call me this week to go out, even if he's made that dreamy smile of those in love return to my lips, it's not good. What? Oh, ok, yes I'm sorry, I'll stop complaining about something that feels so good and lifts my spirits.
  I missed it though. I missed the excitement of liking someone, the excitement of talking to that person so easily. I've missed going to bed with no tears in my eyes, no heavy heart, no painful thoughts. I've missed that beat that your heart skips at the prospect of a message, the anxious checking of the phone, the secret smiles, the possibility of something happening. Something new, with someone new, with no past history and bitterness following at your heels. I've missed private jokes that you make without thinking God, these only matter to me for sure. 
  I miss this feeling of falling  in love instead of being in a bruised love. 

 
  And then  I learn about Sonia and Annie. You have to understand that I have circles of close friends. My close friends from one circle are not necesserily friends with the other circle. So Annie, Sonia and I are on circle of close friends. Annie has been in love with this guy for three years now (what is it with number three?). Mad, passionate love, the kind of love you read in Neruda's poems, the all-consuming type.
  And Sonia has been talking the entire time with that guy, texting about this and that, with him saying that he likes her and her agreeing to go out with him. All behind Annie's back. A friend of Annie's checked their messages along with Annie (not ethical I know) and they were even... they made fun of Annie.
  How do you do that? How do you laugh at someone's agony when you know it firsthand, when you're one of their closest friends, when you're someone who's trusted? How can you give the kiss of Judas?
  Betrayal is a bitter drink. And suddenly everything within the gang (there are others in this circle but the three of us were the closest) is in pieces and I'm trying to keep Annie together and I can't for the life of me understand how I did not see that coming.

I'm just trying to keep everything together, my head's in pieces, my heart is too and suddenly the drawing I have to do for the school is not the art I want to make.

Oh, and something else.

You're offline, I want you to be online.
I take the dog out for ten minutes and you manage to log in, like photos, comment and log off.
Then you log in and I'm staring at your photo intently telling you to log off (I'm not ok).
Then some random guy I used to like years ago (he liked me back I think) sends me a message on Facebook.
What does my life want from me?

Theory #19: Somedays can be like the first day of falling in love.

hvknl
You have a spring in your walk, and sigh whenever you see him, and you have lost look on your face, a smile playing on your lips.
  I'm sorry I do not know whether it's going to get harder again later on.            
 
I'm not sure what the reason was. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen you in so long. Two weeks. They went by in moments of happiness, sadness and loneliness. I missed you. So much. More than I had thought. And today when we talked I felt so happy, my heart nearly burst when I came down the stairs and saw you talking with a teacher. I wanted to say hi but I didn't want to interrupt, so I passed behind the teacher and went into the teacher-room to leave the absences catalog and when I came out the teacher was gone and you daid hi. I responded and then went towards the stairs and I couldn't contain my happiness, I was smiling.
  And you were three steps behind so I waited for you and we talked the only thing that came to mind in order to begin a conversation was to ask you whether S, your best friend, had come. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How do you make me get so stuck? And you laughed saying you're frineds but you don't manage your schedule and then you walked all the way with me to the classroom (it wasn't a long way, just three meters from the stairs, and next to your classroom) and asked me whether  I was going to play Tichu (a game) with the others. "Nah, gotta deliver lunch to my cousin." You said ok and then you left. (And you didn't go to your classroom I noticed.)
  And then afterwards when you passed in front of the door and I just kept smiling like an idiot.
  And then at some point you were at our door, T (your best friend who seems to like Annie) was standing behind you and you were looking were Annie and I were sitting and I saw you. And I couldn't help smiling and waving. And you smiled and waved back. And T whispered something to you.
  Those tiny moments gave me happy memories you know.

  And here's something I wrote today during Physics:

I have
aching lips for you to kiss,
fingers that ache to trace your jawline.

At your sight I soar
And plunge head-first into darkness then.
I miss the moments we didn't live,
the memories we didn't make.

The poet speaks the truth:
I had for you the love you wanted.

I wonder

I wonder
to which girl does your thought stray,
your eyes linger?
Whose smile do you wish to see
which glint of eye you notice.
Whose perfume do you wish to smell
whose body heat you crave.
What hands and lips you wish to kiss
whose skin you wish to caress.
There is no need as deep as this,
as pointless,
or as honest
as to be the one you long to kiss.

Diary Entry #4

  I'm not sure what's the most difficult: the mornings, that hazy moment when you open your eyes, when you're brought to consiouness or the nights, the moment right before you lose consiouness, all sense of you. Each seems difficult in its own way. Both share the same feeling of loneliness.
  Today's his birthday. I texted him when I woke up; he was my first thought. He repiled with a "Thanks!" and that was all there was to it. Well, it's not like I expected anything different. But I still felt both happy and sad. Happy that he replied, sad that that was the only reason I could text him about.
  I'm in my blues again.
  I also realised yesterday that L bears a resemblance to my father. They both have strong facial bone structure. The last one was noticed by Molly. I also know that there's a certain character resemblance.
  So it's true. Girls do fall in love with guys that remind them of their fathers.

P.S. Thinking of posting some of my poems. Still not sure over that.

Diary Entry #3

  Ok Emilia, time to sit down and think a bit about what you've done today.
  And that is pretty much... nothing. It's four o'clock in the morning and you have to write an essay on tourism, do a synopsis and study maths. For tomorrow morning at 11 a.m.
  Gee, I wonder, which part won't work? The sleep part and we all know it.

 I've been thinking a lot about L these past few days and at the same time I haven't. I'm ok at the moment. At the moment. I'm still lonely. I was talking with Annie today, one of his friends is flirting her, big time, and she's not really interested. We were talking about relationships in general. And all of a sudden she asks me "I don't get it, do you have to sleep with them the moment you get together?"
  I had to restrain myself from heaving a sigh. I have not slept with a guy before, I've only ever kissed once, but I explained to her that with the right person it will right. I won't even think about it. It's not something you can schedule exactly. I told her about that time I had been crying and everyone had thought I had been moved. And L came and hugged me smiling and said "You were moved huh?" And I  held him against him and buried my head on the crook between the neck and the shoulder. I didn't let go as fast as they do is casual embraces.
  But what mattered the most to me was that he didn't let go. And he calmed the sadness inside me.
  Also I afterwards learned that before that scene he had asked around about why I was not well.

  I must have written about this here more than 2 times. It matters that much. But my point is, with him, I could have sex with him. Not because he wanted to and I just couldn't say no. But because I wanted to, I want this closeness, thin intimacy, I want everything he has to offer. Even that stupid pink jacket that doesn't suit him at all.

  Alright, I think it's time to do that essay now.

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.

Diary Entry #2

  Image from tumblr.

And it's true. If I can't be with you, I don't want to spend any more of my life waiting for someone who will never come, waiting for you.

I miss you and you were never there.

F and I barely talk. I think I'm going to lose him from a friend eitherway. It seems like no matter what I do I hurt someone somehow.

It's 3 in the morning and sleep has abandoned me.

Theory #18: Being in (unrequited) love doesn't get easier

You simply adapt to a reality where you're near the object of your emotions and so far away at the same moment.

  I was at the hospital in the morning, just a check-up, nothing serious. It has nothing to do with sickness. Just something I had to do every six months for the past years. Today was the last time. No need to worry.

  Afterwards I had an option: go to school for the last two classes of the day or stay home. With mum. And because I had a headache I preferred to leave home. Only as I was on my way to school I passed outside of the public library. And suddenly my copy of  "The Midnight Palace" by C.R.Z. seemed to burn in my backpack. The library, I thought, what better place than that to find peace? And so I turned and went in. Straight to the third floor. I found a sit so that I could look out the window, same seat I've been using lately whenever I skip school. I've even made a sketch of it. 

  So I placed my things on my corner and took out my book and started reading. And then I finished it. I checked the watch and saw that the your last class would end in 15 minutes. I had already chosen a few books to flip through, what harm could it do to stay a bit more? 

  I wondered whether you would come after school. I knew that sometimes you did. 

  My back was at the door and I was lost in an account of how the Sumerians dressed (I had chosen a small tome on the history of costume). I heard the door open and close a few times but it  hadn't been you - as far as I could hear - so I my nerves calmed down and I relaxed. And then I realised that someone is standing about a meter and a half from where I was sitting on my right and I looked up and sure enough there you were. And it was like someone had kicked my heart and the clouds had parted and the sun shined all at once.(I've writen you before that it is not normal for me to feel so much for you).

  And you were just... you were just sitting there. You had been watching me for a few seconds, your head tilted slightly, a small smile on your lips. (Did you guess I was there for you? shit.) And then T - your best friend - popped out of nowhere and said "Emilia reading a book? No waaaay." (Yeah, ok, we all know I'm a bookworm). And I stuck my tongue at the two of you. And we just said hi and then you just turned and left and sat in the table next to mine - only as I was leaving did I notice that I could see you and you could see me from where you sat. I thought I had seen you looking once but then again it could have been just me. 

  I know I make it sound like it lasted aeons but it was only a moment.

  So I went back to my volume and for an hour we read (you studied I think) in silence. And then I had to leave (well I didn't but after 60 minutes in the same room with you I was tempted to start intruding in your silence). So I got up, placed back all the books and told you guys "See you tomorrow." And I know I smiled but inwardly I heaved a sigh.

  I wanted to kiss you so. badly.

  Yesterday night I saw you. After you were done with prep school. The weather was slightly chilly and you wore no jacket just a tee. you hadn't come at school and my heart contrited in my chest.
  "You'll catch a cold like that," I told you.
  "I'm going for a run," you said. 
  "At this time?"
  "It's the only time I can spare." 
  I'll be honest. I was worried whether you would make it home safe. Silly I know but it was already near 11p.m. 

  And then the image of you from when I had seen you last summer when you had gone with S for running came to mind. You were wearing a black shirtless shirt and your strong arms were covered in sweat.

This is not getting any easier.

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.

Theory #17: You can't be friends with someone you've fallen in love with

Because everytime you talk or he randomly touches you, you'll never take it as a friendly sign.

  Yesterday feels a bit like a dream. The play was up. Being backstage, fussing over everyone, making sure they were dressed and make-uped in time. Hearing the clapping of the audience through the curtain that hid the backstage from them. Everything that could possibly go wrong going - things falling or breaking, small crises. And when I touched my head in tiredness you patting my head as you passed by. It was such a warm gesture. As if you were trying to tell me that everything was ok, we had everything under control. 

  And you calmed me down at that moment, you gave me strenght. 

  When that girl was trying to help you dress and somebody called her and she asked me to help you dress. It was almost ironic how perfectly we synchronised. I buttoned up your shirt and was the trying to put those suspenders in place while you were tugging your pants upwards in order to  button them up. Or when you asked me a moment later whether I had put on you the suspenders. And I said yes and at that moment, that moment, one of them snapped and I sort of grabbed you and turned you around, catching the suspender and placing it back in place, cussing under my breath. And you found it so funny, my cussing. And then you went up the stairs and I was going to go down the stairs when you called me again and asked for a hat. I just grabbed a hat and threw it at you and you immediatelly caught it. You always catch what I throw at you, like that water I offered you. 

  And I also remember when you came down from the stage to take Mrs. L up and E and then you tugged me along, your hand on my waist. And when I nearly lost my balance going up the stage stairs you hand was there again, balancing me and pushing me slightly forward. 

  I still can't believe you changed in front of me. 

  Damn I wanted to kiss you.

  I'm sorry but I can't be friends. If that's all we'll ever be than I'd rather not see you again. You give me too many emotions to be just a friend. 

Tuesday, 6th of March 2012

 Dear L,

I'm tired of your face, of your stupid fucking voice, I'm tired of looking at  you, of you touching me (for small insignificant things like to tell me that you're leaving - not that we ever touch for any other reason), I'm tired of joking with you, of creating memories with you that only ever matter to me. I'm tired of my emotions for you, of your lack of emotions towards me, I'm tired of being friends or whatever the fuck it is that we are now. (I think we're friends sort of?)
 I'm tired of you.
 No, no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that's a lie.
 I'm tired of me.

Emilia

Monday, 20th of February 2012

Dear X,
 
  Lord, will this never stop? This blog is about you in the end. But I suppose it cannot be helped, and I might as well write things down now that I think them. For all my wish for oblivion, I fear it.
  So today I read some extracts of my other letters to you to a friend, let's call her Annie. Annie was actually quite rather surprised. She said she didn't have me for a romantic, at least not one so intense. After I read her those parts she fell silent, as if she were not sure what was quite the right thing to say.
  But then again, I'm not sure what is the right thing to say. So instead I write meaningless little post on an anonymous blog on the internet.
  God I wish you were here. That little smile of yours today made me so happy. And afterwards so infinetelly sad. Why is it that everything with you is in the extreme? I wish I could just be.
 
  And loneliness ate away her heart.

  I still remember sleeping in your bed during that trip. You were not in the room. You slept somewhere else. And the next day, you took me as I was, pajamas and all for breakfast. Said it was ok I didn't wear regular clothes.
  And afterwards, after you learnt something that had happened, I remember your anger. Not at me, I had nothing to do with it. By I felt it nevertheless, I could simply read you at that moment. For two people so distant, we understand each other very much. You read me too sometimes, better than anyone else does.
  Actually, that's not really helping.
  Some lingering glances of yours are not helping either. I don't understand you. Please take all the memories of you and go away. I don't know how to deal with you when I see you everyday.

Goodnight

P.S. Your arms were so strong around me that day I was crying for my friend's father. You calmed me. I can't believe we will never be more than friends.

You make me go empty.

 Dear X,

  When I see you, it is as if you're tugging every emotion in me, wrenching it slowly from my heart. I feel as if I could suffocate in you, get lost in you. I feel like you're overwhelming me again, bluring what is right and wrong, bluring what I want, what I should want. It is as if you're there solely to hurt me.
  I want to
joke with you in the school hallways
hold your hand
kiss you
rip that stupid pink jacket you have that doesn't you in the least
have your fingertips caress my face
feel you under the blankets
to drink hot chocolate with you one lazy Sunday morning
look at you and not hurt
have an "us", even for a while
exchange stupid cheezy songs with you
get drunk with you in the beach, at summer, under the stars
hold you under an umbrella
have you text me for stupid random little things that you just had share with me
hug you again like that day when I was crying and though you asked me whether I had been moved you had said to someone else before that I you were sure I hadn't, that I weren't ok
solve math with you
discuss books with you
cuddle under the blankets and watch Game of Thrones with you
you
you
you
you

get over you
forget you
never see you again 
let go

let go

let go


  Sometimes I wish I had an accident that would erase some part of my memory. Your part.
  I cannot wait for the end of the school year. At last, there will be an end.

Theory #13: It goes kind of like this: we mess up, big time. Or they mess us up big time. And then we start again.

 (A letter to L)
 Dear L,

  Wow. December. I look at my calendar in sheer confusion. When did time pass so quickly? When did everything happen? When did nothing happen?
  In the mornings I hate to get up. In the weekends I can get away with it but not during the rest of the week. There's school. And there's you. You tire me. You mess me up, maybe not on purpose but you do.
 

  I was thinking about you the other day and realised that while you helped me find a part of myself that I didn't know before, you have now become a habit. And I'm not sure I like that part of me, I'm not sure I like who I am anynore. I've let many others down, but most of all I've let myself down and I don't want to need you anymore. Not when you're clearly not there.
  I'm just wondering, in your head, what are we?

  Because I'm tired of games dammit. So this is it. The end. It hurts a bit, and I really want to skip the part where I try to let go of everything - everything that still exists anyway -  but this is life and I'll be stronger for all of it. One day some else will come and I'll see you as what you have been to me for some time now: ashes of something that could have been.

    I think the moment deserves a cup of hot chocolate. Goodbye.

P.S. I ought to call Annie. It's been a year since that day.

Theory #12: You know that you're the right girl but are you sure that he's the right man?

  You were there at the club yesterday, looking fine in your black and white outfit and confident among strangers and others who weren't strangers. You came over to me and my friends, directed your hi to me, I didn't hear it. The music was so loud.
 
  We're all lookign for the one. The one who makes our hearts race, the one who keeps us awake all night, the one with whom we can talk. The problem is, during our lives there will be many "one"s. Which one is the right one?

  Lately your best friend - though you don't hang out much anymore- has been sending some obviously-intended puns my way. We were talking about sports and I said I liked basket - and after some comment of his I specified that I like tall men. He smirked and said, "Yeah, tall and dark-haired." He paused. "With long hair." It was obvious he added the last one just to "lighten the mood". And now he's constantly teasing me. Not about you. In general.
  And yesterday you took that girl - who's nice even if people call her a slut (I don't see what's wrong with expressing one's sexuality) - and you danced. Right in front of me. You were talking at first, and then your hand was on her waist and I felt my drink burning inside me. You make me burn. 
  I was shocked because for a year now - has it really been more than a year since I confessed to you?- you've always been careful and tactful. Except that time in Spain. You danced with somebody again. And you tried dancing with me even though you knew I was mad at you. And you fell silent afterwards when that female best friend of yours mentioned that cute Spanish guy who dnaced with me and wanted to kiss me. I was so shocked and mad and, frankly, hurt.
  And when you started dancing, about a meter from me, I could almost feel you noticing my expression. So I just smiled at the girls and sipped my Southern Comfort and and moved to that atrocious beat - the clubs at Barcelona were so much better.
  But Annie was watching and she told me you were looking alright. Even she, who is so sceptical of everything, is sure that you did it to get a reaction out of me.
  Why did you do that? For your ego? Because you care?
  The drink was not good and I felt dizzy and the lights and the beat, I just swayed to the beat.
  And then I left.
  I was told by Marcie that this is not over. That you know - she claims - that I'm too good for you or something. That I'm driving you crazy. That as time will pass you will become desperate. That you'll make a move towards the end of the school year - tops - because after that I may never see you again.
  Do I want to see you again? Sometimes you bring me so much pain.
  What scares me and excites me more at the same time is that Marcie never makes mistakes about those stuff. I could see it in your eyes yesterday, you're fighting inside you. But I fell as if either way I'll be the loser.
  I'm not going to let my guard down around you.

This picture could be a theory all by itself.

Today's theory-title was inspired by this song.

Theory #11: Chances. You miss one and you regret it much longer than it took you to lose it.

Chances come and go in life. They come in flashes and disappear just as fast. We might catch them or we may lose them forever. Some we regret ad other we forget. But what if missing small chances in the end equals to missing a big one? 

  The party. I knew you wanted me to stay longer. Maybe it's just me but I kind of felt it. Laugh if you may. But that's what I felt.
  Today you looked sad. Later I saw you were online on Facebook. I wanted to ask you if everything was alright but I hesitated too much and now I've missed my chance.
  Am I a fool? I must be. See, I've wasted so many chances with you. There might even be nothing between us now. I just can't help myself. 

 

The truth is, I've fallen for you.
  Hard.

I think that was the sound of my heart breaking

I really do.
It doesn't hurt as bad as I think it does, right? It's all in my head, yeah that's what it all is. It doesn't hurt as bad, it doesn't hurt as bad. Maybe if I say it enough times I will believe it.Maybe if I wish it away I'll will it away. Maybe I'll get you out from under my skin.
No theories today.

"You make me wanna sing about love even though you don't want to know"