donderdag 27 december 2012

hey ho

san fran summer love


I met him some time ago, 5 years ago - on the road, in Paris. I could tell you a beautiful love story, I could think of the perfect words to describe what we were or how it felt but it would all be quite unreal. Therefore, I summarize it quickly: we met in a bar, after a dozen try-to appointments, we talked for hours, all night long, until we took the first subway in the morning, back home. I still remember fragments of our conversation - I was only 20 years old, young and polite. I remember I looked into his eyes deeply, trying to figure out what he actually meant when he was saying what he said. He has beautiful eyes. I think I fell in love with his eyes. I think I still do, today.
Years later, we met again. Things felt different. I met someone new, someone great, I traveled the world for a while until we broke up, after years of trial and error, we broke up, and then I met him again. He was seeing someone else - he is always seeing someone else - but even if he wasn't, we didn't really have time to sit down and think or talk. We moved forth.
As if roads can cross easily, I met him again last summer. In France, that is, over sweet summer love, sweat and dirty laundry. We met, we laughed, we danced, we talked. Things felt great. As much as I tried not to sink into another love story, I did fall for him. I spent days and nights and endless hours thinking of him, trying to define the words to describe what I felt - for him. I didn't - I couldn't. I was lost, lost in love, he was seeing someone else, I was leaving for America. Right man, wrong time. And so I left. I left with my mind full of memories and moments to share. He sent me a postcard, once, which honestly made my day and my week, and my heart, beating faster.
I used to be a fool for love. I used to fall in love easily, recklessly, daringly, dumb. Then, something changed. Life - changed. I became more considerate, gentle, careful and reserved. I am no longer looking for someone to steal me away, into another great adventure. I am looking for someone to stay. Someone to maybe spend my life with.
So I wrote him a letter which I never ever sent.
I must move on. I must try to forget and move on. I will. Anytime soon, I will.
For the record: I think you are great.
All my love.

vrijdag 14 december 2012

baby blue

So I painted my nails red and I am trying to write again. Writing is rather hard, these days. Even though I have excluded most of my public, it seems quite impossible to find the right words to express what I feel. I feel so much. I am confused. At the same time, incredibly brave. I have set my goals and I am working firmly towards them. Living abroad is wonderful, but I must admit that I am lonely, from time to time. It is almost January, 17. Whenever I think of it, tears fill my eyes. Sometimes, it makes waking up in the morning so hard that I would rather stay in bed. 

I hope I will meet someone new, sometime soon. Someone to tell all my secrets and hold during the night. Someone to make love to, in the morning, and kiss before I go. Off to work, off to life, off to my daily-life existence. Someone to start over with. In the meantime, I hold on to myself. I try to take good care of myself, in an ever-changing world of adventures. Life is great. Even though I am lost, sometimes, most of the time I feel perfectly fine. I do have to cry, from time to time, thinking back of the past, being afraid of what might come. 

I wish I could share more of me with less people. I want to feel connected, freely admired, take care of someone, who will take care of me. I have gained weight by spending too many hours at my desk. Or maybe I gained weight by living the American way. Either way, I try to regain grip, in a healthy and balanced manner. I think that's what matters most, for now: I try. I try to be forgiving and free, every day, any day. I try to move on, to let go of the past, without running away from what's real. My baby, I love you so.