I have been absent from here, quite a lot. I really really badly needed to take time for myself. I’ve actually really wanted to write here, but exactly because I really wanted to, I couldn’t get myself to do it. Strange how it works sometimes. But why am I apologizing? To whom? Am I not writing here mostly for me?
Things have moved on a little. I cannot say that I feel better, but I feel different. I’m working on building my life alone. I’m finding back myself and who I am. I’ve come to realize what sides of myself I was repressing because of him, because they weren’t fitting, because they weren’t appreciated, because there was no space for them. And I’m slowly but surely holding onto them again in order to feel alive again. One of them is my sensuality, a way of being erotic and delicately naughty that is not vulgar, but rather casual, relaxed, light, pleasurable, empowering. It is actually so important in my life, such a strong part of myself, and I had been shyly silencing it.
When I look inside through the pain and sadness and missing and anger, I see a person I’m starting to like again. I am so happy to be where I am. The years as his girlfriend have been so lifechanging, in any possible ways. I learnt a lot about myself, who I am and who I want to be, relationships, men, women. I am much more sure. I hope I’m not becoming him.
I miss him a lot, still, but more as a friend, as someone who’s been so present and important in my life for many years. It’s strange that he’s gone. I think that I shouldn’t repress my wishes to the point that it’s forced and inhuman, and now I wish we could talk casually again, especially now after a long time of separation, distance, and just a few new pains. But he’s stuck, terribly, somehow unable to process and move on. This is such a loss, for me and for him; how stupid we are. It makes me sad and worried to know that he has so many issues to work on and fix in himself.
Me, in the meanwhile, I’m in a new place. I look for myself. I cannot stop missing him and all what our future together meant. But I carefully open my mind and arms to other people, and it feels good, surprising, fair to be appreciated, complimented, maybe loved a bit. Remember that I deserve it, discover that I am still able to.
Even though, I am still deadly scared for the future now. And I still wished he never left me, changing my life forever. Probably a part of me still wishes for him to come back.
Maybe all these relationships and breakups just make us more ourselves, more ready for the next ones?
It’s scary how fast we get used to being far from someone, to his disappearance.
A repeated waking feeling, a wandering as to how it can be possible for someone to be so incredibly there, so incredibly not.
A combinations of events, all people I know suddenly away from Stockholm, months of incredible solitude (on the edge to madness) made me question things a lot, everything (my work, my city, my life, my friendships). Maybe I keep making mistakes? Things are difficult here, and clearly all different from the original plan. It’s brave, a friend told me, to leave a place with all the friends and connections, and start over somewhere else. But this place meets my inner energy, it’s here that I can really be myself, that I find my meaning. I get back to this place, to my strawberries and raspberries, to the smell of trees and grass and soil and it’s great and I know why I am here.