to be continued

I miss sleeping restless. 

I fucking miss sleep. It used to be a nice treat and now I don't get to enjoy it. Ever! 

I have to paralyse myself to go to sleep. I need to numb my brain in order to be able to get the smallest chance of getting the needed rest to survive another day. 

I don't know how to be strong between these walls. I don't know how to hide my pain from myself. I close the apartment door and everything crashes down. Ironically, I cannot get out of here either. Completely trapped in my head. Locked in this clown cage. 

How did I manage to get myself in this shit for the third time? And why would I still take you back in a blink of an eye? Hmm, like I don't already know. Because I fucking love you, this is why. Because I fucking miss you like crazy. Because once again I have to stop myself not to close this blog app and order an Uber to go see you. I hate you a bit now, knowing you sleep soundly in our bed while I light another cigarette and let the smoke clouds take me away. I wonder if you ever have nights like this too? I still love you though, so I hope you don't. Even though all my nights are like this now. Even though I don't really know when was the last night when I didn't shed a tear on a cold pillow, in a colder bed. At least I don't have to use eye make up remover so I guess I am saving money, haha. 

Another forced smile. Just a smirk, actually. Genuine smiles are no longer something I hope for. How could I? When I only remember myself smiling next to you? When I only remember breathing when it was your perfume that I inhaled? You know? I couldn't find the strength to kiss him. I've felt his hands all over my body. I've felt his warmth on top of me and I turned my head and closed my eyes. I put another mask and I pretended I am just invested and changed position. I used him to satisfy my cravings, I tried like a maniac to fill that void, but could I? When I've never let him anywhere close to where the real problem was? 

What could it happen? The therapist asked me today this — yes, I have a therapist now, look at me being all responsible and shit — she wanted to know what could go bad if I let him see me. But I know very well that this is not an option. I can't be truly seen now because why would he stay around? Why would one choose that part of me? You've had it. And even you decided it was too much. I guess this is the truth. At least for now. 

I am afraid to admit that you are the one that confirmed my worst theories and proved me that maybe I really am broken. And while I know it is not my fault, it doesn't make it easier to cope with it. It's not manageable now just because I am aware that what happened to me was just a sick, cruel thing that no kid should go through. I really needed you to help me get through this. But I guess this is just another option which is no longer available to me. I will need to find a way to get by on my own. I've never felt more alone. I've never experienced a point as low as this. They say ignorance is bliss and while I know life doesn't work like this, I still have moments like this when I wonder if it wouldn't have been better to hide it more. I don't even know why I wrote it like this or why I am simply not erasing it, but I presume it is just how my brain works. Always looking if the shortcut is there. Unfortunately, this is what got me here. All this hiding and all the walls I have built. I tried so hard dealing with it on my own and I collapsed. I understood that I am human and that there is a breaking point for everyone. So I keep writing and crying and trying to put all my thoughts here, hoping to use this blank page like a Pensieve which will release me and allow me to get a few hours of sleep. 

Another morning comes when I will need to do my magic and hide my baggy bloodshot eyes and pretend I haven't cried myself to sleep again in front of all the random people crossing paths with me. I actually think I have fooled you too. Which is more sad than funny if you think about it. Seems like you are becoming one of them. Never thought this could happen. But this is a discussion for another day. I cannot let myself go deeper into the thoughts. 

I will turn off the light and start doomscrolling until I fall asleep. I have resorted to this since closing my eyes only brings you closer and it feels like you are laughing in my face. 

empty

Scriu, sterg, scriu din nou. 

Nimic nu imi pare ca are sens, nicio fraza nu se leaga. Scriu peste tot, incerc sa deblochez cumva bolovanul care ma tine prinsa si nu ma lasa sa respir. 

Si imi dau seama ca nimic nu va merge. Incerc degeaba. Pentru ca eu de fapt nu vreau sa scriu. Sau nu mie, cel putin. 

Eu vreau sa iti scriu tie, eu vreau sa vorbesc cu tine. Eu vreau sa iti spun tie tot ceea ce am in mintea asta neagra si plina de amaraciune. 

Nu pot sa imi scot din gand ultima noastra noapte impreuna. Nu pot sa uit tot ceea ce am simtit atunci si cat de mult ma raneste inca. M-am simtit atat de nimeni. Intr-un pat, langa omul care trebuia sa imi fie tot. Ultima noapte in care aproape ca nu am dormit, incercand sa obtin acea minima farama de noi. 

Dormeai, nu stii nimic despre cutitele care ma taiau inca o data, si inca o data, de fiecare data cand iti simteam intreg corpul respingandu-mi atingerea. 

Dormeai, si asa inconstient, corpul te-a dat de gol. 

Dormeai si in acelasi timp reuseai cumva sa ma ucizi. 

Si am plecat. Cu lacrimi in ochi, cu o frica imensa in suflet si cu inima-mi sangerand iremediabil. 

Fantoma unui om care a trait candva frumos. Care a avut la un moment dat un zambet sincer. Un rest de om care nu are, din nou, optiunea de a ceda. Un trup gol, lipsit de orice farama de vointa, care totusi trebuie sa isi gaseasca puterea sa imbrace mastile si sa se prefaca in fata publicului larg. 

Urasc sa vad cat de bine imi iese. Urasc sa vad cum oamenii care ma vad sunt uimiti de faptul ca zambesc si merg inainte cu capul sus. 

As vrea sa urlu. Sa zbier, sa strig pana raman fara voce, sa le spun ca doare. Doare atat de tare. Dar lumea e oarba, lumii nu ii pasa. Asa ca nu fac decat sa ridic ziduri si mai mari, cu fiecare respiratie, cu fiecare lacrima. Si cu cat ma doare mai tare, cu atat zambesc mai puternic. 

Am inceput cu teatrul in joaca, de mica. Cine ar fi crezut ca experienta aceea imi va fi atat de folositoare in viata de acum? Ironic... Probabil la fel de ironic ca felul in care m-a tinut el in brate toata noaptea, iar eu nu ma puteam gandi din nou, decat la ultima noapte cu tine. Mi-am incalcat prima limita si am dormit cu el. Am cedat si am ramas lipita de trupul lui pana a venit soarele. Cumva de fiecare data cand inchideam ochii si imi permiteam sa respir, apareai acolo. Apareai sa ma respingi, desi erai la kilometri departare si langa mine era el. 

Mi-e dor. Mi-e dor sa fii tu aici. Mi-e dor sa ma simt vie. Dar tu nu mai vii. Eu am ramas. Eu trebuie sa ma ridic si sa continui drumul. Singura, asa cum am inceput. Ti-am dat tie totul, am ramas cu durerea, insa voi gasi o cale sa o fac sa imi fie partenera. Ca de obicei, nu ramane decat sa o imbratisez si sa pornesc din nou in viata.

Deocamdata, imi torn un pahar de vin, dau drumul unei tigari si ii raspund lui la ultimul mesaj, aranjand urmatoarea intalnire, in timp ce imi port zambetul de imprumut. 

8 years later

Bine te-am regasit, prieten drag. 

A trecut ceva timp de cand nu ti-am mai calcat pragul sa stam impreuna la vorba. Oricat de ciudat ar suna asta, sa stii totusi ca nu imi pare rau. Am fost fericita. Am absorbit fiecare moment ca un copil ce abia descopera lumea din jur. M-am aruncat in valurile tumultoase ale iubirii si am simtit din plin soarele arzator al fericirii neconditionate. Ai fi mandru de mine sa afli ca am gasit exact ceea ce am cautat in toti anii de cand imi esti confident. Ca EL a fost cu adevarat marea mea iubire. De aceea intoarcerea la tine este cu atat mai dureroasa si am avut nevoie de putin timp sa imi gasesc cuvintele sa incep. A trecut o luna. O luna de cand ma uit la un pat gol si rece, in timp ce eu adorm cu greu pe-o canapea unde macar ma pot preface ca e o noapte ca oricare alta. O luna de cand ploaia s-a preschimbat in 

.....

Ciudat cum spuneam ca nu stiu ce sa zic si m-am oprit in mijlocul frazei, nu? 

Au trecut trei luni acum. Nu s-au schimbat asa multe. Am inceput sa dorm in pat. Nu este usor, dar ma fortez. Mi-am facut obiceiul sa ma duc acolo si sa ma ascund in intuneric. Scriu acum si doare. Scriu acum si plang. Doare fiecare cuvant al lui pe care il citesc. Ma doare sa ma prefac in fata lui. Ma doare sa ne aruncam niste cuvinte din complezenta si sa vad ca de multe ori, si acelea sunt seci. Ma bucur pentru el. Ma bucur ca e bine si lucrurile au inceput sa se miste. Inca il pun primul pe lista mea, probabil va fi mult timp asa. Dar acum macar incerc sa constientizez ca si eu sunt o optiune. Pana atunci, insa, mai torn un pahar de vin. 

Incerc sa imi caut scuturile. Sa le sterg de praf si sa incep sa le port. Unul cate unul, pana cand totul este ascuns. Pana cand nicio raza de suflet nu isi mai face loc printre placile reci de metal. 

Imi pun rujul rosu si plec in lume cautandu-ma pe mine.

...........................................................

Rujul - pentru buzele ce inca tanjesc dupa un sarut, desi nu il cauti

Vinul - pentru noptile in care imi voi aminti ca o zi pierduta e accea in care nu incerc sa zambesc, iar..

Nepasarea - pentru tine, omul din viata mea care mi-a furat dorinta de a trai cum merit. 

nothing

Numb. Seems to be once again the word of the day. I am slowly getting back into my old habits. I know what works and what takes me out of that dark place where the pain is so strangely vivid. 

Putting the mask on,  getting by with the daily life and enjoying the ocasional lemonade when lemons come in your way. 

It was so surprisingly easy getting into my old coat and hiding all that broken pieces of a heart in the small box which takes away the reality. I think I expected it to be like the previous ones, but I guess one really gets better at goodbyes.

Lying to them, lying to HIM, lying the one that only tries to distract me and to make me forget. And more important, lying to myself. Writing about everything else except this black hole. Except the fucking dark part that is eating me alive and made me this shell. 

The fucking one that destroyed me. That made me question myself. Made me actually wonder if I am crazy.

I am trying so hard to keep it in, to hide it all away and to pretend it simply didn't happen. After all, for others this seems to be the perfect coping mechanism. I manage only to patch it, to put a cover on top of it, but it gets away so easily. Way too easily. Especially lately with everything going on. Especially now when HE also decided that I can take another hit. That as usual, I am the fucking strong one. This is everything I hear these days.. "oh, don't worry, you are strong". Well guess what? It is just a big fucking act. I am a major wreck. I am the one that literally has to remind myself that I need to exhale and inhale in order not to simply drop down and let everything go. I am really failing to see how this makes me the strong one. How this makes me the one in control. 

Who are we kidding here? There is nothing that I can control at this moment. I lose myself in everything, I try to get my mind away from even the smallest detail that could make me feel. I find the weirdest hobbies just to have something to do and not sit down and think. I am going around in circles, not solving anything. 

I lost HIM, I lost the only one sanity connection. I know that it was no one's fault, I know this is where life brought us and as much as I accept this, I can't keep lying to myself saying that I can just close the door and move on. 9 years with YOU being everything. 9 years of me feeling actually safe, for the first time in way way too long. And now? Two sets of keys in the keyring. One bed that is way too big and cold. And most of nights, empty. Ironic, right? I am the strong one so I've been sleeping on the couch for the past three months. Fucking strong, what can I say? 

I want to forget you. I want to forget your hands on my body. I want to forget the way you kissed me and make me shiver. Never thought I would say that. It hurts me to think of this. It hurts me that I would be able to "obliviate" you from my life. But, as much as I loved you, as I still do, this feeling of constant fear and complete vulnerability is too much. I have to admit that it is time to love me more. To choose me. I miss feeling yours so much that it literally kills me. I have days when I get to physically sick that I have to take a break. I have days when I simply forget food or water are not really optional. I have to end this cycle. I need to find a way to stop these thougths that are raising shivers down my spine. I hate this feeling of being completely useless, of being that stupid kid all over again. The one that was too young to understand how fucked up what happened was. The one that was too scared to raise her voice and shout out to the world that sick people are everywhere. I feel small again and I fucking hate it. 

So I did what I know best. I found the distraction. It came on to me almost easy and natural. Getting in my old habits and playing him exactly like a puppet ready to help and please. Eagerly, I could say. 

Yet, I chocked. And not in the good way. It was a shock, turning around and seeing another man in my bed. Casually resting, with a movie in the background. It felt staged, I felt like I was the puppet. And all that fake idea of control crashed and ruined everything. 

Now? Now I force it, I need to go on somehow. And I am fully aware that I am choosing the wrong way. Perhaps the worst one. But I need to do it like this. Cause it is the only way I know how. It is the only way to find the smallest sense of power into me. It is the fucked up way, but this only because I am the fucked up one. I've set my limits. I am fully aware of how far I am willing to go. I know what I am giving and what I expect to receive

 

Probably why I managed to find one who seems equally damaged so far. Makes it quite easier for me to be sincere. Which is a rare opportunity lately. I am in no position of denying myself any chance of fresh air. Even if it comes with the scent of a new man. 

 

Summer again

Am revenit cu retrospectiva. 

Sincer vorbind, cel mai usor sa deschid subiectul despre asta este sa nu il iau in serios. Cum fac cu orice, de altfel, nu? 

Recapituland: 

Boul nr. 1: prima iubire, fluturasii aia sinceri si copii prostuti care habar nu aveau ce probleme are viata de fapt pregatite. 

Boul nr. 2: baiatul ala cool, care mi-a dat aripi si incredere si a furat cateva saruturi dupa o noapte care s-a terminat cu trezirea la realitate. 

Boul nr. 3: cel care a avut grija sa fie sigur ca ranile devin finale, venit intr-un moment total nepotrivit, dar care mi-a aratat cumva o frantura a vietii de om adult. 

Boul nr. 4: the one that got away. 

The sequel:

Boul nr. 5: aici am de spus, oh destul de multe. A trecut ceva timp de cand nu m-am mai gandit la tine. La ceea ce ai insemnat, la ceea ce ai adus in viata mea si ceea ce ai lasat acolo atunci cand ai plecat. Regrete? Niciunul. Simt ca lucrurile si-au urmat cursul si fiecare am fost pentru celalalt exact ceea ce am avut nevoie in momentele acelea. 

Un prieten, un confident, un amant nebun din cand in cand. Stiam prea bine fiecare unde ne situam si care ne sunt limitele. Si, desi eu am ales sa arunc si sentimente, am inteles pe parcurs ca au avut parte de aceleasi limitari. 

O poveste ascunsa de oameni, cu doua suflete ciudate, ce isi gaseau o alinare stranie impreuna. 

Recunosc, e o parte din mine care s-ar intoarce pentru o clipa. O clipa anume, pe care o sa o stiu doar eu si pe care am vazut-o putin prea tarziu.

Boul nr. 6: ee, aici doare cel mai tare. Aici este cea mai adanca rana. O rana pe care inca nu am nicio idee cum sa o fac sa se inchida. Incerc sa o acopar. Ii pun toate scuturile si ma prefac ca nu e nimic acolo. 

Ca nu doare fiecare respiratie, ca nu doare fiecare pas fortat si fiecare zambet nesincer. Ca nu ma gandesc la tine in fiecare moment in care sunt constienta. Ca nu imi zboara gandurile la tine de fiecare data cand pun capul pe perna. Ca nu esti tu cel care imi apare in fiecare noapte in fiecare vis. 

E mai usor sa te prefaci. E mai usor sa mint si sa spun ca eu pur si simplu nu visez. Ca ma duc la somn si ma trezesc cu mintea linistita si mereu pregatita de o noua zi. 

Am atatea intrebari sa iti pun. Am din nou atat de multe raspunsuri de aflat. Asta doare cel mai tare. Sa stiu ca nu voi afla niciodata ceea ce imi doresc cel mai mult sa aflu. Sa accept ca nu exista cuvintele acelea magice care sa imi dea voie sa simt greutatea asta ridicandu-se de pe suflet. 

Imi tot spun ca o sa am candva curajul sa iti spun in fata lucrurile astea. Sa fiu din nou eu, cea vulnerabila si sa vezi intr-adevar ceea ce ai facut. Dar cu ce folos? Pe cine ar ajuta? Eu am ajuns in punctul in care nu stiu daca mai e ceva ce tine de mine. 

Asa ca fac ce stiu eu, te ascund in cutia aia mica, inchid cheia si incerc cumva sa dau inainte in toata durerea asta. Incerc sa gasesc forta in fiecare zi sa ma dau jos din pat si sa ma mai prefac inca o data. 

La urma urmei, "sunt bine". 

hello, sh**ty day

Zambetul de imprumut.... a trecut ceva timp de cand am decis sa nu il mai port. De cand am crezut ca poate nu mai este nevoie de el. Ca am ajuns intr-un punct in care as putea sa fiu doar eu. Sa simt ceea ce simt si sa nu imi fac griji ca poate x sau y ma vede. 

Se pare ca am gresit, as usual. Same shit, different people. Oamenii nu vor decat sa vada ca esti bine. Complezenta este cea care ne defineste in continuare si de care ne lovim oricand, oriunde, si oricat de suparator ar fi, este si cea pe care o asteapta oricine. 

Ce ramane de facut? Doar sa caut prin colturile ascunse ale mintii, sa il sterg de praf si sa incep din nou prin a-l purta. Sa imi reiau singura masca pe care stiu sa o port cel mai bine si care mi-a fost atat de mult timp confidenta. 

Pana la urma, sunt experta la asta. Sau cel putin eram candva. Nu ar trebui sa fie greu, ca mersul pe bicicleta, right? Smile and wave, boys, just smile and wave. 

Oricum, mai greu decat realitatea si mai dur, nu ar avea cum sa fie. Am incercat, nu a fost sa fie, shit happens. 

Obisnuiam sa am optiunea asta de "on/off" asa de bine definita. Era un simplu buton pe care decideam sa il apas ori de cate ori aveam nevoie. Acum? Acum stau asa in limbo, sperand ca pot fi eu si ca imi pot permite sa pic. Sa pic si sa imi las sufletul zdrobit acolo jos, plin de praf, doar cat sa aiba putin timp sa isi revina. Sa isi linga ranile si sa ma puna usor usor inapoi pe picioare. Wrong call, my friends. 

Tragicomicul situatiei vine cand imi dau seama ca oamenii traiesc cu gandul ca aceste ziduri sunt alegerea usoara. Haha, clasic. Dar este in regula. O voi face si pe asta. La urma urmei, nu a fost niciodata o alta optiune, nu? 

restart

Words. Scattered recklessly on a piece of paper. Words that will most likely remain here for a long time. Hidden. Forgotten. 

Waiting patiently to be found in another sleepless night while searching for a refuge. A safe place where sanity does not seem so far away and where thoughts are less dark and twisted.

Words that used to be able to enhance the beauty all around. To bring lost souls back to life or to shatter one's dream. Words that were meant to change the course of a lifetime and that could even end one as easily as it started. 

It was a time when all that one had were the letters. Symbols. Small, yet stark. The power of mastering them was vast, intense and accessible to everybody. Each and every one could have made their own world and lock themselves there or could have used this ability to create something even bigger and with a deeper meaning. Art. Used together, these symbols had the force to awake anyone's consciousness and the ways of doing so were numerous. Poetry, music, novels, even daily letters mailed by those who were devoured by unyielding pain or neverending love stories. 

Today though... what is left? Where are those fierce defenders in all this darkness? What power do have have agains these walls of nothingness? Buried under all these layers of dirt and solitude? Looking for that ray of light, trying to pour everything on a blank canvas, to release myself from all the burdens. It's not easy though. And being so completely numb and hopeless is not helping either. How can I find the strength to say your name and not feel this void swallowing me? I am literally running out of air when I let myself even barely touching this ocean of grief. 

I have resorted to being a shell. Trying to build myself back up step by step, trying to put layers of make up, to be the clown that everybody is asking for. Nothing comes normal, I have to force every breath. Struggling not to zone out during the day when I suddenly get a picture of your big arms embracing me in my head. I am once again surviving, giving up on what the ordinary people are considering life. 

I can see the people around me are trying to help. I have rebuilt this support and I am aware that they all want the best for me. But no one really knows. No one has seen the whole picture. No one can feel the oozing ruptures which are never healing and are a constant reminder of the danger lurking. 

And in the end, no matter how much it hurts, I know that they never will. Cause I will never be myself anywhere else except in front of a paper. Not after doing this in front of you. Not after I got so, so low. Cause I am already too scared that I have gotten myself too deep.