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.

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.

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.

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

Wensday, 29th of February 2012

Dear F,

   I'm so sorry. I think I'm fucking with your mind. I think I'm fucking with my mind. In all honesty I'm not sure what it is that I'm doing. To you or to me. I wonder if you know.
  I do not want to say it. I know that I like you, that much is undeniable, but the fact remains that in the late hours of night and the early ones of the morning it's him I think about. Sometimes though you shyly take his place. But very rarely, usually when I wonder what I feel for you.
  I can't deny the shared smiles, the knowing glances when we share a private joke or a certain intimacy. And the thought of those moments makes my heart constricts. I'm complicating things I know I am. I'm so sorry.
  Please don't like me. I'll hurt you. It's one thing to fuck my emotions up and another entirely to do that to you. Stop coming so close you might get to know me much better that I can stand. More than you can stand.
  Isn't it safer better to remain friends.

  Sorry,
   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 # 16: You will change opinion of things you thoguht you were sure of.

A lot.

   I do not know what to think anymore. God, I feel as if you're overwhelming me too much again. And I have never been sure of what you feel. I should just get up and leave. And yet, everytime I say I will, something happens and in the end I do not.

  Or that it was possible. Or that you didn't at all.
  This is not good.

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.

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"