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.