Raphaela’s Weblog

Ψυχούλα,
μακάρι νά’ ξερες πόσες χαρές μου χάρισες… πόσα παράθυρα και πόρτες άνοιξες… εκεί που έβλεπα μόνο τοίχους… και πόσες αλήθειες μου φανέρωσε η παρουσία σου στη ζωή μου…
Οι λέξεις που γνωρίζω είναι φτοχές να περιγράφω όλα αυτά. Όμως. πολλά από τα χαμόγελα που έβλεπες στο πρόσωπό μου, τα οποία δεν μπορούσα να στα εξηγήσω ήταν επείδη έβλεπα, αισθανόμουν και συνειδητοποιόμουν όλα αυτά…
Δεν ξέρω τι έκανα για να αξίζω να γνωρίζω τέτοια ψυχή όπως η δικιά σου, να δω και να χαθώ σε τέτοια μάτια όπως τα δικά σου, και να βρω τόση ειρήνη στην απέραντη αγγαλιά σου… Άλλα είμαι, και θα είμαι ευγνώμων για όλα αυτά που έζησα μαζί σου….
Τα χέρια μου τρέμουν μόνο που γράφω όλα αυτά… δεν είμαι αρκετά γενναία για να στα πω ζωντανά… και νομίζω ότι και να προσπαθούσα, θα χανόμουν στο αθώο και τρυφερό βλέμμα σου…
Αχ… μακάρι νά’ ξερες….

You…  came into my life…

We became one…

And then, all I could do was wait…

and daydream of you when… you were gone

but sometimes… I find myself caught in my own spider web of thoughts, fears, inhibitions…

one thought…

kept spinning and spinning in my head…. and then I wait again, until I realize I need to find out just 

Who I am

but not before we dance again… 

 

 

They say home is where your heart is… If that’s true, I don’t want to leave home, but if I stay, I am afraid I am not welcomed.

“Έρωτας. Πάθος. Χάσιμο. Υπενθύμιση: Η ευτυχία είναι μια στιγμή. Τυχαία. Συμβαίνει όποτε το αποφασίσει εκείνη, κι όποτε εσύ δεν το περιμένεις… Και συμβαίνει για να σε κάνει, στο μεσοδιάστημα της ανυπαρξίας της, να ονειρεύεσαι και να ελπίζεις να ξανασυμβεί. (Erotas)”

“Μού πήρε τέσσερεις μήνες να απαλαγώ από τη συνήθεια και να παραδεχτώ σε μένα την ίδια πως άλλο ό,τι πραγματικά επιθύμησες, κι άλλο αυτό που συγκυριακά σού έτυχε και συνήθισες. Μην τα μπλέκεις. Και ποτέ μην υποτιμάς τη δύναμη της συνήθειας… (Erotas)”

Ποτέ δεν υποτίμησα τη δύναμη της συνήθειας. Πάντα τη φοβόμουν για να είμαι ειλικρινής, τόσο σε μένα, όσο και στους άλλους. 

Αναρωτιέμαι: τι λέει το σημερινό δελτίου καιρού; Θα έχει συννεφάκια, για να πάμε εμείς πάνω τους, στον 7ο ουρανό, και να χαζεύουμε τον κόσμο κάτω στη γη; Θα έχει βροχούλα, για να πάμε έξω, να χορέψουμε και να μας χαϊδευει κάθε σταγόνα της, να μας πλύνει όλες τις στεναχόριες και να μας αφήσει καθαρούς; Ή θα έχει απλώς έναν εκτυφλωτικό ήλιο, δόντατο ή μη, ο οποίος αρχικά να μας ζεστάνει τη παγωμένη τη ψυχή μας, το ξεχασμένο το κορμί μας, και ίσως μετά να μας κάψει, να μας ψήνει με τη λάμψη και τη φωτιά του;

Ή… μπορεί να έχει ένα αεράκι τρυφερό… παραμυθικό, παρηγοριτικό… το οποίο να κουβαλήσει τα πιο αληθινά και ευθραύστα λόγια μαζί του… λόγια που θα μπούν μέσα μας όχι μέσω του αυτιού (δηλαδή της ακοής), αλλά μέσω ενός χαδιού, του πιο απρόσμενου χαδιού… του πιο απρόσμενου αεράκι… κατευθείαν στην τρεμουλιασμένη καρδιά μας;

Έιναι όμως πολύ πιθανο να γίνει και έναν σεισμό… με επίκεντρο τα πιο κρυφά (και από τον εαυτό μας) βάθη της ύπαρξης μας, της καρδιάς μας, του όλο μας το “είναι”… σεισμό που δεν μπορεί να μετρηθεί στις υπάρχουσες κλίμακες σεισμών… που θα κάνει ρογμές μέχρι και στα πιο άθραυστα καβούκια… και θα φανερώσει όλα όσα δεν θέλαμς να φανερώσουμε ποτέ… τα πιο κρυφά μας μυστικά, τις πιο κρυφές μας σκέψεις, τις πιο τολμηρές επιθυμίες μας, τα πιο συγκλονιστικά μας πάθη, αλλά και τους πιο σκοτεινούς μας φόβους, τους πιο τρομαχτικούς μας δαίμωνες… 

Τελικά, ποιός φτάχνει το καιρό στη ζωή μας; εμείς ή όλοι οι παράγοντες που υπάρχουν γύρω μας (άνθρωποι, συνήθειες, καταστάσεις);

Trap or not?

How do women separate one from the other? How do men distinguish between the two? 

I believe women more often than not cannot clearly distinguish between the two. We tend to take the physical intimacy we share with a guy as a emotional intimacy of some sort. And more rarely than not, that is not the case. I just wish I understood how men make the difference, so that I could implement it in practice. In this type of situations, men are more practical. Sleeping with someone and being affectionate on the physical level does not necessarily make the guy fall in love with the girl. Ironically though, this is exactly the way to a girl’s heart… so how are we supposed to know when to let people slip inside our heart and when to be on alert?

Is the answer to this question the eternal divergence between logic and heart? Men use logic much more than women, and just to keep things in some sort of a universal balance, women use their hearts much more than men? Hence, we come across as the less practical ones, as the most sensitive creatures on earth and ultimately the most complicated to understand.

The hormonal changes women experience each month, and throughout certain periods of their  lives (pregnancy, menopauze, medication), do indeed play a significant role in the way we view things. 

Regardless of that, physical intimacy is really not hard to recognize. E.g., girl and guy sleep together, girl and guy kiss, girl and guy look at each other in the eye “during”, girl remembers guy’s name, and viceversa, girl/guy knows how to reach the other (phone, email, etc). But how is one (particularly girls, and specifically, myself) supposed to recognize emotional intimacy? The real thing…. and not what men actually intend as purely physical one? When I say emotional intimacy I do not mean love. I only mean that the guy (or the girl, respectively) feels something more than a pure physical attraction or platonic friendship. In my mind (and of course, I could be wrong) there’s an intermediate stage between physical intimacy and love. And that’s the emotional phase I am wondering… in which one starts caring about the other person, starts thinking of the other person in other ways than just physical (e.g. longing for the other’s presence, smile or for his arms around her, sleeping with the other, waking up with the other). I believe love is a natural evolution of this emotional intimacy stage. 

The first stage (physical) one is usually mutual. The next stage, emotional, may or may not be mutual. If it is, then the following stage, loving, is usually accelerated and can turn into mutual love. Otherwise, love will come, but it may or may not be mutual. 

These stages did not always come in this order. Fifty years ago I am sure the physical stage was the last one, the first and second one being the emotional and loving, respectively. This can still happen. It depends though on the circumstances and priorities of the woman and the man. 

Going through one of the stages, does not mean one has to (or will) go through all the stages.

I still don’t know whether the latest changes and expressions of intimacy that I am seeing in my G. spot are more than just physical intimacy. My heart wishes it was more. My logic tells me it’s nothing more than just that. Sleeping with someone and loving someone are two entirely different things. And the difference should be clear. Then why do I feel blinded now? Am I in denial? I wish I could see things for what they really are, clearly and beyond any doubt.

Dream: Two nights ago I dreamt that someone was taking pictures of me, with my old cell phone (I currently use it) with a less than 1 Mpixel camera. Who was it, I don’t know. I have never dreamt that someone was photographing me. Not as far as I remember.

Friends & Mirrors: They say a true friend is the one who will put a mirror in front of you and show you who & what you really are, your true colors. What if… by being showed such mirrors, and looking into them we open gates to things that were not in this world in the first place (i.e., on this side of the mirror)?

Words: Just how much do we mean every word we say? Saying only what we truly mean, is it overrated? I don’t think so. I consciously avoid saying anything that I do not mean. Sometimes I fail. What about the people who do not consciously try? How can we distinguish what to really believe and what not? Saying that I am going to eat a cheese pie, and not really meaning it, is not the end of the world. Saying that I will stand by you when you will hit a rough patch in your life, and not meaning it, sometimes, can really mean the end of the world, for someone. You just never know. No one can even begin to predict the impact of the words we say on those who hear them. It’s entirely a non deterministic. Should we be careful with what we say? Or should we just hope for the best?

Wish: Be careful what you wish for, cause [you never know] you might actually get it. And then what? :O

Wish example #1: I am rather tall. I am a bit shy of 1,80m. I have a height related thing (κόλλημα the way we say it in Greek): I want my guy to be taller than me. Not by much, but by enough so that I do not have to bend when I want to kiss him. I always said that in order for me to not give importance to the height, the guy has to have other tremendous qualities, that would just make height entirely irrelevant. Ha ha… be careful what you wish for, right? My G. spot is not taller than me, he’s my height. It has never bothered me though.

Truth/Dare: His more affectionate recent behavior should not make me believe he’s starting to feel something more for me. Then what should?

Words? Well, read above… one can never be sure.

Facts? The fact is the he’s been seeking me & spending time with me on almost every chance he got. How many guys would choose to spend their last hours before joining the army (when the family came into town to say goodbye) with a girl they do not care about? (Thumb up)

Facts? We’ve never been out, on a date, or for a drink. We’ve only been out for a night swim (related and in response to one of my fantasies). Truth is when he’s with me, he’s with me. No phones, no texts, no watches. Nothing. Truth is, it doesn’t really bother me. Having a drink indoors or having a drink outdoors makes no difference to me. I mostly care about the company, than about the surroundings. Introducing me to others? Well, that’s something that I can only speculate why it didn’t happen. Since day one, this thing had an expiration date, that could either come from me or from him. It happened that it came from him (leaving for the army) and the surprising thing is that “this” did not end as I expected. What would be the point in introducing me to his friends/brother knowing that I would leave at any moment and just disappear from the picture? Maybe he didn’t want others reading too much into this if he were to introduce me to them. Those who really matter, know about me. I know that. Then why hasn’t he changed his “Single” status on Facebook, to either not be declared or even to “It’s complicated”? My status does not show. (Thumb is in the air… not knowing whether to turn upwards or downwards)

Just when doactions speak louder than words“? And when don’t they?

Tags:

There are a zillion things I should be doing right now. But for over 12 hours, the only thing that I want to do is write. I have so many thoughts, so many questions and so many possible or certain answers to all the thoughts and the questions that are spinning in my head. I need to write (about) them down, in hope that I will put some order into the chaos in my head, heart and soul.

As I said, I am not good with words. But I feel this overwhelming need to write. I rarely edit what I write. So it will come out not as ordered as I’d wish. Some thoughts and ideas come up as I write along, other just fade away by the time I finish writing.

Reading Hope‘s blog was very inspiring and relieving. Unexpectedly, reading her posts I found answers to questions that torment me. Even more so, I realized that I wasn’t asking myself all the right questions about my situation. One of the most incredible benefits of finding someone that has experienced what you are is the fact that they can provide a more complete image of your own experience. Her blogs gave me that and unknowingly she’s helped me tremendously. Thank you!

Dear Hope, I have selected a few lines from the posts I have read. I will include them in here, and just link to your blog. I do not remember however in which post I found each line/phrase. I hope you will forgive me for that. I had become so engrossed in reading you that I didn’t want to lose any second with being too organized. I had opened a notepad document and just pasted in it whatever “rang a loud bell in my head”. I have never done this before, and I truly hope it is OK to do it.

“The lies we tell ourselves are always more hurtful than the truth we do not want to hear.” (Hope)

These words, so true, just hit me, like a hammer on the head. And when something like that happens, I never blame the hammer for hitting me, but I start wondering. In this case, I immediately started wondering and contemplating the possibility that I might actually be telling lies to myself, and not being aware of it.

Do I really love G.? Weirdly enough, I don’t always get the butterflies when I think of him. But I sure do get them just when I hear him park the motorcycle outside my window. Rushed breath, cheeks blushing, armpits suddenly sweating, fidgeting, trying to control all those symptoms, and everything just dissipates when he appears at the entrance. I go, let him in, he always scans me briefly and kisses me on the right side of my neck, just above the collar bone. That is not the kiss of a friend. That is the kiss of a lover. I prefer that so much over the typical peck on the lips. But I did not know about this type of lover’s kisses before him.

Honest answer: I think I do really love my G. spot. It’s not even remotely close to the way I thought I knew love was. They say each love feels different. I never disagreed with that. But this is the first time I feel love in such a different way than before. I love the way he makes me feel, the way he’s inspired me to overcome one inhibition after another. Especially on an intimate level.

Do I make this thing with G. more than it really is? Truth is I just don’t know. I hope I am not making it more than it is. I have always had this in the back of my mind as a red alert. I am trying to figure out whether the fact that he entered my life in the most dark period of it, and made me feel such wonderful things, makes me see this thing more than it really is; or if he had entered my life in a period without any darkness in it, and had made me feel the same things, would I be even more into him than I am already? I think that the fact that he managed to make me happy (without even trying), when I was heading headlong towards depression, is even harder than if I were in a great period of my life. I get enthusiastic quite easily. But lately, that didn’t happen. So I gather that I am not making this more than it really is. It just is the way it is.

“Deep down, I want to still believe that I am just a little different from all the other girls he has bed. Deep down, I want to believe that he genuinely likes me. Deep down, I want to believe, really believe, in the story I have weaved here for you all, over the last month. And to tell you truth, right now, I almost believe it.
Because seriously? My hope?
It always dies last.”
(Hope)

What am I hoping for? I am hoping that this will turn into one of the most incredible fairytale ever. That’s either because I am such a hopeless romantic, either because I’m so delusional because I am in love. Nonetheless, this is what I am hoping for deep down inside as far as my G. spot and I are concerned. I am hoping to hear him say that I am “the one“, and that he’s been trying to fight it, but that he can’t, and that he’ll fight for me till the end of his life, that he’ll follow me around the world, that nothing else matters to him than being with me, the way I am. That he wants to evolve with me. That he feels like he has never felt with no one when he’s with me.

Honest answer: This will probably never happen. I will probably never hear such things from no one. But a girl cannot stop dreaming nor hoping.

“That brick wall, the one I was so careful to ignore for the better part of this ride, is fast approaching. I would like, just for today and maybe tomorrow, to think about something else.” (Hope)

And this is what I have been doing since Monday. I felt the need to stop worrying about the brick wall, about the responsibilities I feel I am failing to meet, about the expectations others (most of them well intentioned) keep having from me. I feel the need to think about & allow myself to live nice things, to feel nice things without the fear of bad things looming over them.

The brick wall is there. I have known this from the start. And each day I spent in this country just made it stronger, taller and brought it closer to me. Making me fear it even more; not wanting to think about it even more.

She could not touch fear. She could not see it or describe its contours. But she could feel it suffocating her. It was a gag stuffed into the mouth of a prisoner, blocking a breath, refusing to let go. It was real. It is real. Yet, she could not touch fear, she could not punch fear out. She could just feel fear. She could hear it rising inside her chest. She could taste fear. Acidic and vomit-like; a bad case of vertigo. But it had no form, no face nor figure. It looked like nothing. So, she could not even begin to plan an exit strategy. Her therapist urged her to put a face onto this intangible fear. “Who is it?” she probed. “What does it look like?” “What does it say?’
“It is me”, she said.
“And I have failed. “
” (Hope)

On Monday, I woke up feeling happy. I felt light too, like nothing was weighing on me. I felt something blooming inside of me, more and more with each deep breath I was taking. The world looked such a beautiful place. Un-caging myself from the locks that I have put around my feelings was so liberating, so relieving, so exhilarating. Until 6 pm. When I got an email. I was on the phone with a friend. My heart just stopped. My mind denied it immediately. I did not read it immediately, but the Gmail Notifier showed the first line of the email, and its content was all clear to me. As long as I didn’t read it, I could pretend that I did not receive it, right? That I did not get that news. I tried to live the pretense. But I could not shake the heavy stone that news put on my heart. In just the flash of a second, I went from feeling so light, so free and so liberated to feeling caged, heavy, dark and weak, but most of all scared.

It’s the news that everybody has been asking me about for countless months. It’s the news that everybody except myself wanted & was looking forward to hear. It’s the news that my actions showed that I am so eager to get, but deep down inside, I never felt that way. I did feel excited, last year, when I started making it happen. But shortly after that, I just didn’t want to know. Not knowing, not fighting for it, just doing the things that had to be done, without putting soul or hope into it, was the best I could do. But this is so unlike me. I put passion, hope or even dreams in every little thing I do. I was safe, living in the limbo situation, knowing that things do not depend on me, but on so many others. All I could do was wait. And wait I did, for a year now. This too is so unlike me. My worst suits are my lack of patience and the frustration I feel when things are not clear (as in either black or white, not gray). For the last year I have been patiently waiting and not getting frustrated at all by the whole uncertainty [and grayness] of things.

I never wanted to discuss about the changes that will happen when I get the news. With anyone. Not even with my parents. Let alone with G. I refused to think about it. No one, ever understood that, as much as I tried to explain it. My mother, understood. But after a long time. And she is the only one that knows the news. She called me at 7:30 pm. I was planning to call her too. But she felt this urge of calling me, without previously arranging it. I was on the phone with a friend when she called, pretending that nothing happened, that it’s just another Monday. She called my land line. No one ever calls me on that number unexpectedly. And for the first several seconds, I didn’t even realize the phone was ringing.

I told her. I asked her not to tell anyone in the family. I was not ready to answer the round of questions that come from (finally) getting this news. She didn’t ask anything. I so love her for that. I told her I will tell the world when I am ready. And she trusts me.

As long as I refuse to accept the existence of the news, I cannot face telling anyone else about it. I will stall it, as long as I need to. Until I am ready to face it.

“That is what I will–and want–to remember from Friday 18 January 2008.  The day that I was left breathless by a kiss; by words that stung my soul by the truthfulness of their figurative meaning.  The day I realized that, at the very least, I will not be alone when I hit that brick wall.” (Hope)

The news made me hit the brick wall full frontal, and I wasn’t even prepared for the hit. I always knew I would be alone when I will hit this brick wall. But I was hoping I wouldn’t be. It wasn’t for the [sick] need of seeing other people hit it together with me and hurt too. It was mainly for knowing that I am not alone in this, that someone [that I deeply care for] cares about me [too].

“It is scary that I feel so close to you in such a short amount of time” he whispered into my ear as my fingertips trailed up his arm and across his back. “Yes, it is” I replied. But, it will do.” (Hope)

“I would never have thought I could be with a woman like you?’ “A woman like me?” “Yes, you’re fucking classy and I’m? Just a scruff.” That’ll do. Too.” (Hope)

My G. spot is not everything I ever wanted in a man. Let’s just be honest about it: I am not sure there exists such a man that would fit all my descriptions. But he is much more closer to that than any other man in my life ever was. I am hoping (and even waiting) to hear that he has gotten so close to me too, that I make him feel things he hasn’t felt in a long time, things he wasn’t pursuing to feel when we met. I am hoping to hear that he thinks of me, that he misses me, that he cares about me, that he is afraid of losing me, that he does NOT want this to end when I leave.

Even if he would say all the above, things would not change. Not now anyway. I would still leave. But maybe, just maybe, I would think of coming back as well. Maybe I would leave for a certain period of time, only to be able to come back to him.

He hasn’t said any of the above. He only said that I am one of the people that he found to love, that have given him such happy moments, that even out the unhappy moments, and hence helping him hurt a whole lot less. He thanked me for existing [in his life].

So when I leave, it will not be with the thought of coming back. I do not exclude that, but I don’t consider it either. There’s nothing real that I feel I have to come back for. This sounds like a complaint. It really isn’t. It’s just stating the facts. This is real only to me, as far as I know. If it is real for him as well, then he will have to let me know. Cause I can’t go on assumptions. And I can’t ask either.

“Because you know what?  He failed to reciprocate the question.  He did not say, “What would you like from me?”” (Hope)

He did not ask me if I want to stay, with and/or for him. This is why I cannot ask him. This is why I have to assume this is not real to him, and to be certain only of the fact that this is real [only] to myself.

However…

“And if you don’t ask, you don’t know.  If you don’t know, you can’t possibly give.” (Hope)

I do not ask [partly] because I am afraid of what he would answer. If he wanted me to stay (even though he’s in the army for the next 11 months) or if he wanted me to come back (after his army or after 2 years of my being away), or if he wants to let thing follow their course now and thinks of coming after me after he finishes his military service, and would be scared to share any such thoughts with me [or even with himself], I would wish he would fight that fear and just tell me. Even if I ask or not. Hence, I [partly] do not ask because I am afraid he would not tell me what he truly feels, because he is scared [too].

Hitting the brick wall, brings the end [of so many things] so near. Before hitting it, the end was so indefinite, hence I did not know how far away or close it is. There is comfort in ignorance. I truly believe that.

“Because life goes on whether you are ready for it or not. Today, life is moving on in front of my very eyes. The bookshop next door has received its Monday delivery, the window cleaner has come and gone, as scheduled. But I?
Am on pause.
And pause?
Is a far more hopeful button than stop.
You know?”
(Hope)

I am afraid I am not ready to live this end. To see that life is moving on. To adopt the changes that this news brings before me.

“You see, he has begun the fading out process. It’s not like I didn’t expect it. I just did not expect that it would happen so soon.” (Hope)

I am afraid that he will fade away so quickly, and that I will fade away in his mind even more quickly than that. I am afraid that I will look back on this one day and wonder whether it was just a dream or was it real? It IS REAL! It IS happening. He IS making me feel all the things I feel.

“The Man: I’m so fucking angry.
Me: Why?
The Man: Because I was all ready to leave without a care in the world.
I was finished. I wasn’t looking over my shoulder. And then I met you.
Me: Oh, you’ll be fine.
The Man: You have no idea what is happening here, do you?
Me: What do you mean? What is happening here?
The Man: I am falling for you. You’re not falling for me.”
(Hope)

This was one of the things I read in Hope’s posts that stung my heart so raw and deep. If I were to replace “The Man” with my name, and “Me” with “My G. spot”, this would be 95% accurately describing the talk I had with my G. spot after he came back from the holidays and spent three days in Athens before joining the army. Thing is, I was angry for way longer than that. I just hadn’t told him.

***

Until last night, when I stumbled on Hope’s blog, I was afraid to even allow myself to think what will happen. Hence, I believed I did not care what will happen. For some moments, that was really true. But I do care what the future brings. I still don’t know what it will bring. But at least night I have a much clearer idea of what it could bring. This is hard but good in the same time. Like a pill that first makes you feel sick before it actually makes you feel better. So you just pretend that you don’t need the pill. Or you just try to postpone taking the pill for as long as you can, cause you’re too afraid of not knowing how long the “feeling sick” phase will last or if you will get through it.

“Inaction, like the absence of words, screams an indifference that flies over entire oceans and several continents. It is an indifference that I hear–only at night–pounding on my door and stumbling through the darkness I let it in. I let it in and try to make sense of it all.” (Hope)

I am afraid to feel his indifference, when I will be one ocean away, on another continent. I am afraid that I will drown in the darkness even more, and that I most likely won’t survive being alone, in a new country, on such a far continent, where I will not have anyone to rescue me.

But I have to take action. I have to come out of the darkness that I feel right now. I have to get up, shake off the little pieces of brick that are covering my clothes from hitting the wall full frontal,  straighten my clothes, my body, lift my head and be able to look at the wall and not feel crumbled just by its existence. Then I have to take a deep breath, that will restore all my self-confidence and self-worth, and start clambering the wall in front of me, confident that whatever it is behind it, it will not be bad. I can’t be bad. I can’t be worse than what’s on this side of it. Confident that I will never be able to know what’s behind it unless I truly overcome it. Confident that no matter how much I try to prepare myself for whatever it’s behind it, there will [still] be things that I will be [totally] unprepared for. Confident that hoping is not in vain. Appreciative that I have the power to make my life what I want of it. Appreciative of the fact that I am aware of my ego, of the benefits it brings when it’s my ally, as well as of the harm it can cause me when it’s my enemy.

I miss my Mother so much right now. Being in her arms always gave me strength.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2008

…νιωθει ολα τα καλα πραγματα που αισθανομαι… αλλα με ολα αυτα, ερχονται και οι φοβοι.

When you open up to allow yourself to feel the good things that come from within, you become vulnerable, so vulnerable to any fears and shocks…. but there’s no one way about it. So I am taking it all in at the moment. What I am feeling it’s just too beautiful… and I have tried to repress it for so long, that I started hurting myself in the process of protecting myself. Ironic, isn’t? I’d say so.
I have a G. spot. But it’s not what you think. My G. spot is a “he”. And he’s my vulnerable spot that can make me fly of happiness or lose myself in sorrow. And this is not by direct actions, just by existing in my life and how his existence impacts on me.
He is not the cause of my currently-living-but-uncertain-of-when-it-will-pass crisis. He came so unexpectedly into my life. And I had no idea nor any plan as to what this could mean. I just took each day as it came, without analyzing the why, the how or anything else. He turned out to be an incredible person, a rare gem, a wonderful soul, not the type of person one meets every day. He definitely belongs to the group of people that came into my life, left footprints in my heart, after which I can never be the same. This is inspired fromEleanor Roosevelt poem.
So if he’s not the cause of my crisis, what is he then? As I wrote in my previous entry, other things are the cause of my crisis. He, G., is an escape to happiness from all the darkness and unwholesomeness I was feeling (and still feel to a certain extent) for so long.
So today I am going to write exactly about what I feel: love & fears.
I’ve known him for 5 months and 4 days. I never expected, thought or even realized I was starting to get attached to him. That he was slowly getting under my skin, against my will/wish and I suppose against his will/wish as well. Cause he didn’t do anything to pursue that. It just happened. When I realized I had grown attached to him, I freaked out. I did NOT understand how this could have happened. I could I have not seen it happening? I still don’t know. After the freak-out phase passed, I got pissed off with myself. I was very adamant that I don’t want to get attached to anyone at this point in my life. And now that I got the surprise that it happened, I have to deal with it. And this is hurting me…. this will hurt me because I cannot be with the people I am attached to. Life is taking me and them on totally different directions and paths, away from each other.
But who has control over life? Fully? Noone. After the pissed-off-with-myself phase passed, I tried to repress whatever I was feeling. Yeah, right… like that did any good to me. Well, it didn’t. It turned against me, hurting only myself and uselessly too. And, οπως λεει και μια διαφιμηση στο Εν λευκώ, αν δεν μπορεις να κανεις τιποτα, απολαυσε το! This is what I am trying to do at this moment. I realized that no matter how I try to approach this, it won’t go away. So I might as well enjoy it as it is, as long as I can have it, and deal with losing him when the moment comes. And here I remember what a dear older person always tells me: Don’t trouble yourself until trouble troubles you.
I think of him, so often that I lost count how much I do it. I am not stopping myself from doing it though. Just thinking of him, puts a smile on my face. Just knowing that he offered me so many incredible and unique and true moments brings a huge wave of love in the forefront of my heart. Just remembering how I feel when he is near me… I get the shivers and I close my eyes and I feel his arms around me, his kiss on my neck. The touch and feel of his amazingly tender lips and the wonderful spark in his eyes. He is by no means perfect, not even close. And I am by no means an angel, nor perfect either. But what I feel comes from within, flooding, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it either. I am submitting myself to it, not entirely, but much more than before.
I have only told him that I have grown attached to him. And that I wished I hadn’t. He said that I am lucky to have become attached to him and not another guy. Cause someone else could’ve well been in his place. But his (G’s) intentions are not to hurt me, or make a fool of me or of my feelings. He didn’t say how he feels about me. I don’t think he clearly knows either. What I do know though is that what I feel for him has nothing to do with what he feels/doesn’t feel for me. It only has to do with the fact that he exists, that he stepped into my life and that he left the footprints that he has in my heart. And that all this happened without premeditation. Although I know it will hurt, and usually the pain is directly proportional to the intensity of the feelings, I feel I am truly blessed to have met him, for all the things I lived, experienced, shared with and felt with him. I don’t know the reason why this whole thing happened. I don’t even wonder. I do not know what the future holds for us. Mostly nothing for “us”; I know though that he is one person I will always feel connected to, even if we won’t speak for months or years. Besides the connection I feel, he will always have a special place in my heart, that I treasure too much to evacuate and take him out of there. I get teary eyes as I write this. It’s my shell cracking….
In the beginning, when he was leaving, he would not even wake me up. He would just get up & out of bed, get dressed, and out of the house. And I wouldn’t hear from him for days. There was no reason to either. As time passed by, he would either kiss me on my hip & leave, or kiss me on my neck & leave, or we’d have a coffee together and hug me before leaving, but he would never hold me in his sleep. Never. We barely touched during sleep, and I didn’t touch him either, cause I thought he doesn’t like it & might see it as nuisance. I love cuddling (what girl doesn’t?). But I can live without it if it doesn’t come naturally to the other person. And I don’t hold it against the other person. So I was surprised to see that he gradually started holding me in his arms when we were sleeping. Then after a while, he started kissing me on my back, on my head, on my cheek, on my lips, and hold me tight, but this would usually happen while falling asleep and I would always discover we were far away from each other when we were waking up. Then, five weeks ago, when he returned from the holidays, he came to see me twice in three days. He was so tender and cute. And the last night before leaving the city, he held me tight, for the whole 3 hours of sleep we had. He didn’t say a word though.
Last weekend, he came back into town … after a little over three weeks of being out of town. We had almost no contact during the time that he was away. And even though I knew there might be other reasons that were keeping him from contacting me, I assumed he needed his space, his time away and alone, that he was using this to slowly withdraw himself from my life… so slowly slip away.
Not having the escapes that he was for me, I started sinking even lower into the darkness. Its veil started weighing more and more on me. I let it pull me down. I had no power, no reason and no will to fight it. But I knew he is out there. I knew he was not happy, but I knew he has to stay away, both physically and without contact. Why? Because sometimes we just have to go through certain things that life throws at us. If we escape those things, then it’s like we cheat, and that will eventually find a way to catch up with us, sooner or later. So I didn’t fight the darkness that was overwhelming me. I just knew that something had got to give. And it did, three days later.
As soon as he got back in town, G. contacted me. But I didn’t get his offline messages. So the same evening, he calls me and I am caught off guard. I had managed to think of him so much less, without dimishing what I feel though. But thinking less of him, yet not repressing my memories or thoughts, just made it all more bearable for me. I am no actor, but still, I tried to play it cool. No need to drown anyone in my own sea of feelings or endless darkness. I don’t know how much he bought it. I was in doubt whether I wanted to see him or not. After contemplating it throughout the evening into midnight, I decided to see him. So he came over. The last time I saw him he looked awesome. But this time, he looked gorgeous. I couldn’t even react, I was shuffled. We made love. He told me he had missed me (he meant that in a physical way). While making love I realized just how much I had missed him too, but would not admit it to anyone.
We fell asleep. He held me close, not tight, but he snorred like a bear and had multiple cough crises. I was having a hard time falling asleep. Both because of my mixed up inner state and his snoring. I was not a happy girl, but I was sure beyond tiredness. I was coming down with a cold too. Morning comes, he goes his way, I go to work. Night time comes, I leave work late. I catch only one bus before midnight. I decide to walk home for the rest of the trip (~ 6km). It started raining. But I was wearing comfortable shoes. Even though I was sneezing, and my nose was stuffed, I walked for over an hour. I was moderately soaked by the time I get home. I get home and just collapse on my chair, mindlessly surfing the net on my laptop. 3 am comes, I’m still in the chair, looking like a homeless person and feeling as one too. Still shuffled by the fact that I was the first thing he saught when he came back. This is NOT like him, or like the G. I knew before. I decide to let it go as a random thing. But what do you know? Who texts me at 3:30 am? G. He was coming home from a wedding and wondered how I was. I told him I was too tired to sleep, but that I needed to (he didn’t know I barely slept the previous night, but I knew!). He calls (no text) me right back and asks me if I’d like some company, and I am hesitant. I was never hesitant when he asked me this kind of things ever before. I told him I don’t know. He doesn’t push me. He tells me he’ll call me when he gets home, and if I feel up to it, then he’ll come over, otherwise, I shouldn’t worry or sweat about it.
I was surprised by my own hesitation. I text him half an hour later telling him that I do want to see him but that I am not as rested as I wish I were. He replies right away that I should not worry about it. He’ll come, and we’ll just lay in bed and sleep. No need to worry about my tiredness. I agreed. He came over quite quickly. We talked briefly and then laid on the bed to sleep. He pulled me close, I was feeling cold, he warmed my body, he carressed me, started to kiss me slowly, waking up my senses in a sweet, slow way… I can’t find the right words to describe how that felt. It didn’t feel it was coming from the body, it just felt it was coming from the heart. It had a strong feeling to it, my interpretation of which is that it was carrying the heart’s desires and not the body’s. Before we even started making love, I felt so relaxed, I no more felt tired, cold, sleepy or ill. I was with him, in way that hadn’t felt like that before. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. We were spooning all night. I woke up so rested, so light, so refreshed. I had slept heavenly. He didn’t snore at all nor cough all night. I took a bath, got dressed, and woke him up with a kiss on his cheek. He woke up without a headache! He gets strong headaches very often, and I was starting to feel bad that he woke up with such headaches after spending the night over. It was a good day start. I took a taxi to work. Night comes in, I leave work.
So that evening, something gave in. I had the opportunity to see a person that is very dear to me and that I respect very much. Talking with this person (as I mentioned in my previous entry) made me see some sort of light through the most dense darkness I’ve ever been. I could not believe it, but I knew something gave in. It was just the beginning.
I still have trouble sleeping when I am alone. I fall asleep anywhere between 3:30 am – 7 am. The next day came, and I woke up feeling good. I started working on some things that I kept postponing and got them done.
He uploaded two photos on his page. He has never done that. The one is with him, the first weekend since he first left, and the other one is with a girl (I wrote about her previously) and is labelled with daughter. Seeing them I got mixed emotions. He looked so great that it is impossible for someone to look as good as he does in the conditions there. I was so drawn to the photo where he’s alone. Photos and certainly photos with people in them speak to me more than maybe to other people. His face and body posture spoke so much of “him” to me. They say an image equals to 1000 words. In certain cases that is true. In this case, it was true. And the other one, with the girl, made me feel both happy that he wasn’t alone, but jealous too that I couldn’t be there too. The day those pics were taken was the last time he contacted me before returning back to the city. I told him that I saw the pics and that he looked great. He asked me if I had seen any other pics of him (implying in his friends’ albums) and I said yes, I saw a few. This week I understood why he was out of contact since then. They had confiscated his phone.
I saw G. again three days later. In spite of the insomnia, cold and having recently ended “that time of the month”, I felt rested. And I felt it. I dressed up quite nicely and he could not take his eyes off me. It was entirely different from the “me” he saw last time. Passion lit up and the rest is history. Suffice to say he kept one clothing item as a souvenir. Sleeping tight in each other’s arms, not letting any distance come between us, spooning. We woke up rather early and had a coffee in the kitchen. The coffee took over two hours. We would not stop talking to each other. At 12:30 he decides to live and run the errands he has to. We kiss. I put myself to work. It was a good day too.
The weekend came and I started my usual weekend job. I was supposed to meet him after work, but it didn’t happen. I had a laid back evening and the regular insomnia. I wake up at 11 when my phone rings. I was lost for a second, but then I realize it’s the weekend and I am late for work. I am never late for work. I don’t panick, but I get out of the house and to work as fast as I could. Traffic made my taxi ride 45 minutes long. But still, it was an ok day.
Saturday evening comes. I feel the need to be alone. I was alone anyway, but this time, I felt it too. I fall alseep around 5 am. Wake up startled by my phone at 7:30 am. It was G. I need a second to realize that I need to answer and not just look at the phone. My battery drops just as I pick up. I plug the charger in, and call him right back, in the same time looking out the window and seeing another motorcycle parked outside my window, but not realizing it’s his. He asks me where am I, I tell him I am at home, and he says: “well let me in then.” He had been out, drinking. I let him in, he tells me to get in bed and that he’ll join me soon. He undresses, asks for a bandaid, and then lays next to me. He falls asleep in no time. I do too. We don’t talk. I see the bandaid on his hand. I wake up on time to go to work, shower, get dressed. I try to wake him up, but no luck. I had to leave though, or I would have been late, and can’t have that twice two days in a row. I am struck by the idea of letting him sleep over, and leaving the keys in the door lock for him to close when he leaves. I take a spare pair of keys (they were in an old untouched for a year box) and leave. He calls me in the afternoon (~4pm). He asked me what to do. I told him to do whatever he wants, and that he could return the keys either by dropping them at work or by meeting me after work.
At 10:30pm he texts asking me in the most sweet way if I have any keys to get in and when will I get home. I manage to reply only an hour later, I tell him I have keys. He was catching up on some work he had to do before he left again today. He told me he will come to give me a hug before leaving.
He came at 3 am. It was the fastest drive from his house to mine he’s ever made. He came in and told me about the previous night. He was out with his brother and some friends, drinking. He walked home and didn’t want to sleep there. So he drove as quickly as he could to my place. He’s never done that before. I do not understand why he felt the need to come over that morning. I’m not trying to understand either. I am not gloating inside myself over the fact that he chose to come to me. I just know it’s good. Given that it was our last few hours together, I tried a little game (role playing) that he absolutely loved. And it just bounced back at me, in that seeing him loving it, it made me even more keen to play the game and it was just incredible. I’ll just say one thing: it was the best time ever. We’ve made love many times, but last night it was all so new and nothing like before. It was great on more levels than one.
And even though we had only 2 hours to sleep before he had to leave (the city, again), he would not let me out of his arms, kissing me at every move, touching me from head to toes with his body. The first alarm went off at 7am. He told me to reset it for 8 am. I cuddled even deeper in his arms from 7 to 8 am. His breath was so light, no snorring, no caughing. He left at 8:30. I don’t know when I will see him again. A few days he tells me.
It didn’t feel like my heart was wrenched out of my chest when he left. I was calm, serene, there was even a smile on my face.
There is something I feel, that I am trying to understand what it is exactly. I can’t even put it into words. Do you know that feeling that when you look into someone’s eyes, they just speak to you, even though no word is said nor need to say one? Add to that the feeling when someone holds you, tight enough to tell you things, but not as tight as to make you ask why. Then add to that kisses that were never given before nor asked for.
Since he left this morning, I felt light, I felt serene, I felt loved. In one word, I felt happy. I think that is what I am feeling. He has not said a word but he didn’t need to. He hasn’t made any promises of any sort, but he doesn’t need to either. He hasn’t made any plan for any future. He does not need to. I feel happy now, without words, without promises, without plans. Just because he is, and for what he makes me feel when I am with him. For not wishing or asking I was different. I don’t know what will happen in the future. But I know what I feel know, and that is enough for me, right now. I don’t even feel the need to tell him anything, because he knows. I know he knows without having to ask him about it or tell him anything in words. And he knows that I know and that I don’t need to ask him and that he doesn’t need to say anything.
There is more that I need to write about. Fears.
And I think of you – Tanita Tikaran (Lyrics)
Night is falling
I think of you
I’m walking home
I think of you
And as he calls
me, yes I do
I think of you
How you doing?
I think of you
As we leave
I think of you
And I smile, I can’t hide
I think of you

I don’t know
where your days
are spent
Your lovers and
you friends
But I know for sure
Of who you have
been thinking

Far beyond the
city’s lights
Are two who dream a life
Forgive them if
they never find
their freedom
Their freedom

It’s so late
I think of you
He walks me home
I think of you
I’m so sorry, I’m so tired
I think of you
And in the shadows
I think of you
I close my eyes
I think of you
Now I’m falling
I think of you

I think of you
As he calls my
name, yes I do
I think of you
I think of you
I think of you
I think of you
I think of you

And in feeling
I think of you
And in breathing
I think of you
And in seeing
I think of you
And in living
I think of you