Lesson #3 (Kurwa pierdole!)

This is the last time I want to close my eyes and try to remember it as vividly as possible... because it hurt like hell.

Recommended soundtrack: 

Song A: Anton Dhouran - Osmekha (Ruede Hagelstein Remix) for the mentally-cut-your-veins-while-throwing-up part;

Song B: Fat Sushi - My Empire (Township Rebellion Remix) for the I'm-better-than-this,-will-pull-through part.

Context:

    Will skip the very early stuff as that's in the monogamy post.

    We broke off (if that's even the right way of saying it) because you had some "dubious" social habits (in my book) during pandemic times. Going to parties with people you'd never introduce me to and ignoring me in the process, then ofc also during the much-needed post-party recovery time - which happened for several weekends in a row. Which made me open up tinder and meet the person I'd end up going to Africa with (funny how life goes, but that's a different story).

    So I brought it up, told you how I saw things, you had to ponder whether you were gonna go to the Halloween party - and you chose to go. So I chose to let you go as well.

What a dumb situation - conceptually speaking. Anyway...

Fast forward 3.5 months. I had gone to Africa twice by then, went through some shit (see AfrikaBurn post). Got back in touch, turns out you were travelling through Romania at the time (?). Suggested we meet in Brasov, as you were with your travelling companion at that stage. I didn't think much of it. Then you mentioned it's a guy. Still didn't think much of it, as I know you Polish adults have a very cute way of maintaining friendships between genders like you're 5 year-olds. Or maybe it's a certain category of Polish adults, it's not politically correct to generalize, after all. Still, I find it admirable to a certain extent. You were late, as is the norm, so I went in your direction. On the way, saw a couple coming from the opposite sense (it was dark already at that hour) and felt my pulse going up and my breath going faster. Didn't know what to think of it, but the phenomenon stuck with me the entire evening. I was in the habit of questioning the states I'm in, the thoughts I have, so it was only natural I start having that internal discussion. As it turned out, I wasn't over you yet..

And we sat for a few beers, the guy was cool, bit of a playboy/Slick Rick/womanizer act but ok. You told me there was nothing sexual between you two, and also that you were happy you got some quiet time when he went to talk on the phone a few meters away - which only reinforced the idea that perhaps indeed there wasn't anything going on between the two of you. And then you mentioned you guys were going to the mountainside for some skiing/snowboarding action and invited me to join. Took me a bit to work on the logistics work-wise but said what the hell - the premise of expanding my social circle while getting back into skiing after so many years was more appealing than anything. Figured since it was a social gathering scenario, seeing you should not be an objective, but a bonus instead.

And so I came. Late cause picked up your friend who overslept, had my 2h of skiing fun then went to work. Then the evening came and you and your friends convinced me to spend the night, even though I wasn't convinced, seeing as the owner of the place was giving us trouble. But your typical ballsiness which borders into irresponsibility at times convinced me nonetheless. So we started drinking. Then you guys washed your clothes and we had to put them to dry, which had us ending up alone in one of the rooms - since I offered to help. And this is where it gets blurry - I can't remember whether we took the pill before this part or after - but I know we had taken some alcohol onboard prior to it. And I confessed. Me, being the fuckin' moron good guy idiot, wanted to come clean because it's better to verbalize your shit than to build scenarios in your head. Right? I told you about how I felt in Brasov when we saw each other, I told you I'm not over you, and we kissed. You didn't say a word, but just went along with it. And it felt awesome. Especially because you reiterated not having anything to do with your travel companion. It's nothing sexual - you repeated. And I didn't want the remaining part of the evening to be about me being all up in your business, since group context and I was the new guy, right? let's make it enjoyable for everyone, after all.. So I let it play out naturally, everybody having a good time. Then your travel companion took the guitar and started going for Polish songs which ofc the entire group knew and was singing along to, except me (obviously). He was hitting on you, it was so obvious, yet you weren't seeing it. Or chose not to see it. Or not to care about it.

Then I remember going outside for a cigarette with the guys and when I came back inside he had his hand in your shirt. I remember you did something similar with me back in the day (natural heating technique you called it, which I found very funny and ballsy at the time). But this time it was... where was this going? Should I intervene? Should I make a scene? The fuck was going on? I chose to play it cool cause I'm a fuckin nice, chill guy, remember?

Then the pill started kicking in and it felt like the alcohol had evaporated from my veins. I was going all metaphysical 'n shit. Launched a topic for the sake of group engagement and to get the collective gray matter goin' - Good guys finish last, true or false? (see AfrikaBurn post). Not sure what point I was trying to make, maybe I had a sense of the things that were about to come, maybe I just wanted to hear some more opinions, although I always find it funny when I get objections - especially because of the reasonings behind them. Long story short - you told me no effin way, that's just a young age phase with girls, blabla. - and the group tended to agree. I was partially amused by the contradiction between action and words, but figured ok, let's see how this plays out. 

And as I started talking to some of the guys, you started kissing your travel companion. Or rather, he started kissing you. He was all over you and you were playing along. And it lasted 4 fuckin' hours, at least. I know, because we went to bed at around 5:30AM and the party started at around 11PM. And I was grossed out. Trying to avoid visual contact while being in the same room, a lot of the time on the same couch with you guys. What was going on? If you had nothing to do with me, then don't fucking kiss me after I confess my feelings for you! Or perhaps this was your way of showing you wanted a threesome? Everybody going around kissing everybody, free spirit and shit (with you being the only person that kissed two people in a more-than-just-funny way)? At some point I couldn't hold it in me and, while going out for a cigarette with your friends, casually asked them if they wanted to hear some drama and unloaded everything. Cause it fucking hurt. And after we went back, their heads were like chasing a ping-pong ball, going between you guys and back at me, to see my reactions. I never felt more lucid after taking in alcohol, and at the same time downright infuriated. This was not cool and there was nowhere for me to go - since I was supposed to sleep in the living room where "the party" was. Now looking back, I could've gone to the car and try to sleep there - that's the one option that didn't cross my mind. But sitting there for so fucking long, just holding it in.. I am amazed at the level of self-control I had. And you know why? Cause in retrospect, I could've started a scene and make it shitty for everyone. Or worse, I could've picked up a knife and stab the two of you, and make the whole fucking pain go away - at least I wouldn't have had to bear through the pain of seeing you in the act, right in my face, 2 meters away. But I held it in, somehow. Come next morning, I woke you up since the whole house was asleep and I had to leave early, and did not want to be a douche and leave without saying goodbye, so I didn't. Don't know how I kept my cool, forgot my jacket in the process and leaned in to hug you, for some reason. Kissed you on the cheek and your body/head movement told me that if I'd gone for the lips, you wouldn't have backed away. How fucking weird.

Drove somehow to see my son, around 4 hours in total, techno blasting at max level in the car (song A predominantly). It was like going through a trance. Then the day after, I realized the jacket situation and agreed to meet with you to get it back. Saw you again, you were fucked up cause poor sleeping habits but whatever, I still held it in. Romeo handed me the jacket while you went inside the mall nearby so I didn't get to say goodbye, went straight home. Then you sent me a message asking me if I had arrived home safe and apologized for not saying goodbye to me? Like...were you for real? After all that had happened that weekend, you were apologizing for that? I did my best trying to play it neutral, a bit passive aggressive cause couldn't help it, you didn't seem to take notice. I suggested we meet sometime the following week and made it clear it wasn't to get you drunk and take advantage of you (wink) but to rather have a serious fuckin grown-up conversation. Which might appear as finger-pointing at times, from your angle, but that I'd do my best to be as objective as possible. You didn't refuse and so we met... after 3 nights in which I couldn't sleep properly, felt like a ghost, drained of life and mental energy but somehow pulling through...

And some might say I was wasting my time. Actually, everyone I spoke to about this told me I was wasting my fucking time, that I should move on, etc. But I didn't wanna hear any of it. You know why? Cause again, if I didn't keep my cool, if I didn't have the self-control, if I wasn't a good guy, this could've ended a lot, a lot worse than it did. And I wanted you to hear it. I wanted to get the message across, that for your own fucking good, you should try and be more aware of what you do, with whom, and when. Cause shit can go south real bad, real fast. Now, whether you processed that info or not, is anybody's guess... but I have a clear conscience that I did my part, cause being the good guy that I am, I gave a shit about what happens to you.

..and so we met. The most objective way I could think of having the discussion was to get your version of what happened first, then I'd share mine, and we'd <compare notes>. As it turns out, your version was a lot shorter and blurry. You told me you just remember everybody having fun, showing affection to everybody, you remembered kissing Romeo but it felt like it was for a second, etc. And I was smiling like an idiot, listening to all of this. Self-preservation mechanism, as I confessed. Smile so I don't yell like a wild beast, or burst into tears, or go violent. What a terrible feeling that was...but once again, I kept it in. And shared my version of the facts. You even told me you had slept with the guy prior and by "nothing sexual" you meant there was no sexual attraction, not that you had nothing to do with him at that level. And as alcohol was yet again entering my bloodstream, the thought creeped in. Maybe you really just acted like a teenager, didn't know what you were doing, etc. Maybe you really are sorry - as you mentioned (and also wanting to stay friends, not wanting me to keep this as the last impression I have of you, etc.) Maybe I can fuckin get past this little episode, try to understand you and show you the right way. Whatever the fuck that right way looks like... So going back home, I took your hand and put it in my pocket, cause it was freezing. You seemed to not give it much importance. I almost unwillingly, not being able to hold it in anymore, asked you whether I was being an idiot. You probably didn't realize what I was talking about, or if you did, chose not to give it much thought in your generic, polite answer. And I chose to take the subway with you, for two stops. Because I wanted to spend the extra 10 minutes in your company. What does that say about me? No fucking clue.... But again, you didn't act in any way special, we didn't kiss or do anything in that direction, and I came back home wondering whether I should've been more fuckin vocal, or more obvious in my gestures, to signal that I still cared about you, that I wanted to forget all the shit and just give it another go, etc. I was actually thinking whether I did something wrong.

Then, shortly after arriving home, I get a match notification from Tinder and I start talking to this girl. And we hit it off, and talked for about 2 hours (song B on repeat). I had completely forgotten about you. Then it hit me. I was going all self-torture mode and such because I had no other options on the horizon, because I was alone at the time and you were my life-line. And as long as I didn't do everything in my power to hold on, I would always beat myself up over not having done everything I could have. But having spent the last 2 hours with a completely neutral mindset (neutral going towards positive, I'd say), thinking of you afterwards, and us... felt like I should smack myself on the head for even considering the idea of moving past those events. And thus, dear reader, come the two conclusions out of this dreadful story (still feeling my stomach acting weird as I'm reminiscing the whole thing, props for you if you've made it this far!):

1. Always compare and validate definitions. Apparently nothing sexual to you might mean something else to her, and vice-versa.

2. We adapt to our circumstances and act accordingly - ideally. However, making decisions in times of hardship has the potential consequence of clouding our judgement, thus leading us on the wrong path. Should you find yourself in such a situation, consider your choices in a normal scenario, without pressure from other variables. What would you choose then? That's the decision that's most likely the best one.

I can't believe how long I've spent remembering this agan and laying it all down. No more. Not fucking worth it. We move on.

Hell, it's about time...

..time to resurrect this. Far too many things happened, conclusions drawn, lessons learned, stuff I wish my parents/mentors/friends would've told me, stuff I want to tell my son when he grows up and I fear I might forget (yes, I have a son for 3 years now), stuff I wish I knew growing up. This is not going to focus on rants, it's going to focus on lessons. Less emotional, more educational. If anyone finds any use in this, I have served my purpose. The past 10 years have been about me being able to adapt to my current environment (and changing it when it didn't fit the bill for whatever reason). Next 5 (maybe more, maybe less) I want them to be about my inner self and my growth as a human. And it all starts with lessons drawn out of experiences.

niet titlem

Azi am aflat ca am pierdut pe cineva drag. Stiu n feluri in care as putea/fi putut sa reactionez, dar nu stiu cum ar trebui sa reactionez.
Sa folosesc asta ca pe o scuza, sa-mi planga lumea de mila? Sa tin in mine inchis pana intr-o buna zi cand voi exploda? Pierderea asta ma face sa constientizez pentru a nu stiu cata oara ca avem tendinta sa uitam ce-i cu adevarat important: oamenii din viata noastra. Tindem sa ne axam pe valori materiale decat umane. Luam tot ce-i in jurul nostru "de bun" si nu incercam sa pretuim/valorificam/imbunatatim. Da, ma refer la relatiile cu cei din jur.
Persoana pe care am pierdut-o a fost o combinatie intre prietena si mama, daca se poate numi asa. Asta pentru ca oricand stia sa-mi zica o vorba buna, sa ma ajute cu un sfat, intr-o imprejurare dificila. A fost un model de profesor pentru mine si sper sa n-o uit niciodata. Oare cum as reactiona daca mi-as pierde mama? La fel, as avea aceasta dilema in privinta "comportamentului adecvat" intr-o astfel de situatie? Desi urasc sa ma gandesc la asta, e un scenariu care foarte probabil se va intampla candva, din pacate. Asta e cursul vietii.
Acum sa revenim la chestii (oarecum) stupide. Intr-un moment de cumpana, eu, la varsta de 22 de ani, am realizat ca trebuie sa devin presedinte pentru ca lucrurile in Romania sa se schimbe in bine. Si ca pentru asta imi trebuiesc studii de sociologie, pentru a putea incerca sa inteleg cat de cat comportamentul uman. Sau poate doar eram mahmur cand mi-a venit ideea asta in cap. Oricum, e bine de asternut acum "pe hartie" ca sa stiu mai tarziu ce aiureli imi debita mintea. Da, uneori nu stiu ce voi face mai departe, unde ma vor duce studiile, viata. Nu stiu unde voi ajunge. Tot ce am in minte e cursa aia stupida dar foarte actuala a majoritatii tinerilor din ziua de azi dupa cat mai multi bani (salariu), cat mai multe bunuri
... ai prins ideea? ring a bell? Nu vrem sa recunoastem, dar ne ducem naibii. Ne prostim (a se intelege indobitocim). Printre oamenii din ziua de azi prea putini mai sunt cei care vor ceva diferit, au ceva diferit in minte, planuri marete de prosperitate a omenirii. Putem sa-i numim mutanti.
Zic asta pentru ca daca e s-o luam dupa viziunea marvel cu ai lor x-men, sunt cei care fac parte din etapa urmatoare a evolutiei. Eu asa o consider. Singurii care realizeaza ca nu mergem pe un drum bun, dar prea putini ca sa poata face ceva. Cel de sus (cum l-oi numi tu) sa ne ajute, ca noi singuri nu vad cum am putea-o face!

(Asta nu mai stiu unde s-o bag, dar stiu ca nu e buna de incheiere).
De ce nu e plauzibil un scenariu gen "The Beach"? De ce nu putem reveni la asezarea tribala? Pe cuvant ca mi se pareau mai simple si mai ordonate lucrurile intr-o astfel de societate decat mi se par acum. Fiecare stia ce vroia sa faca atunci cand ajungea mare, si putea s-o faca, fie pentru ca e o meserie practicata din mosi-stramosi in familia lui, fie pentru ca pur si simplu avea o pasiune din asta. Acum zi-mi tu mie, cati cunosti care si-au implinit visurile preamarete din copilarie? Cati nu s-au impiedicat pe drum?

The Gambit

I knew it was a gambit. Life's always a gambit. It's all about the choices one makes. Some of them are good, others are bad. Some say if you don't take chances, you can't win. I think it's true, or at least partially. I knew there were two outcomes to this: a positive one and a negative one. There is no intermediate outcome. There is no "everything's gonna stay the same". Everything's gotta change. And as normal (humane) as I find that to be, I also find it to be stupid. Why do things have to become colder between people if they can't have a relationship? They can't stay friends because somebody's feelings would get hurt. That's bullcrap! In what universe does you not talking to me anymore make me feel better? Or help me in any way. It's bollocks. "I'm doing this for your own good." That's in the same category of bullcrap as "you're too good for me." I don't care for my own good. I'm in love, I don't care! I want to suffer, so be it. let it be done.

I love you

I love you. I love you like an idiot. I curse my lack of impulsiveness (or balls, if you will) to tell you. I love you like I haven't loved anybody in a long time. I'm a lovefool. Not being able to tell you drives me crazy. I dream about you. I dream about being with you. I can only imagine it. I would go to the end of the world for you, with you, to find you. I don't care that I'm suffering. I would gladly continue to do so than to not feel something as beautiful at all. I call it appetite for self-destruction. And I find it to be perfectly normal with human beings. Why be rational, when I can feel my heart tremble? All this everyday non-sense...it's all bullshit compared to something so noble, so pure. It's nothing. Love is everything. I'm glad I feel that way now and I'm glad I'm writing it down. This needs to be remembered. Tomorrow, I will tell it to you as well. Of course, it will sound much simpler and more stupid than what I wrote here. Perhaps everything I wrote here is stupid. I don't care. I'm in love with you, end of story. Or is it just the beginning?

Plec

Imi aduc aminte cand am fost prima oara in postura de pasager intr-un aeroport in afara tarii. Am vazut tot felul de tipare de oameni, de la oamenii de afaceri, carandu-si copiii care habar n-aveau ce se intampla, dar se jucau intre ei, pana la simpli turisti, cupluri, tineri fericiti. Atunci m-a lovit pentru prima oara un gand: desi nu realizam, cu totii suntem conectati, facem parte dintr-un sistem mai mult sau mai putin bine pus la punct. Mi-am dat seama ca daca bogatanului de langa mine i se duce pe apa sambetei business-ul si are in subordine 1000 de oameni, acei 1000 de oameni raman fara servici. Poate de aici si pana la ideea ca ar trebui sa ne doara si altundeva decat in cot de cel de langa noi e cale lunga, dar eu asa am facut conexiunea. Bineinteles, e posibil sa ma insel, nu zic nu. Cunosc multa lume care se intreaba de ce nu putem fi mai politicosi unii cu altii. La urma urmei, nu poate strica. In cel mai rau caz, ti-ai irosit 0.000001% din energie zicand "O zi buna!", fara sa primesti un
raspuns. In toate celelalte cazuri, foarte probabil iti apare un zambet pe fata. Pe cine ar putea deranja asta? Nu stiu. Dar gata cu introducerea.

Plec. Plec si nu stiu cand ma mai intorc, daca ma mai intorc. Plec deoarece mi-am adus aminte de ce am vrut sa plec din primul moment cand am revenit in tara. Si nu e o amintire placuta. Desigur, peste tot gasim oameni seriosi, sinceri, buni, de apreciat, si ..ceilalti...deci nu pot generaliza. Dar poate ca am venit sperand sa gasesc altceva, o schimbare. Din pacate, n-am gasit-o. Si e pacat. Peste tot, oameni tristi, nefericiti, din toate categoriile sociale si profesionale posibile, si-i inteleg. Cum sa nu-i inteleg, daca de-asta am plecat in primul rand? Am fost bagat in oala "nepatriotilor", sincer? ce legatura are a fi patriot cu a sta pe fundul tau fara sa faci nimic ca sa incerci sa schimbi ceva? De parca ideea ca nu pot face ce-mi doresc in tara mea ma incanta. Chiar deloc.
Trec pe langa autogari. O gramada de lume. Oare de ce atatia pleaca? Suntem toti oare nepatrioti? oare mergem toti la furat? Ma indoiesc. Oare ni s-a acrit tuturor? Tot ce se poate. Eu atata stiu, ca n-o sa ma impiedice un sistem de cacat sa fac ceea ce vreau, sa lupt sa ajung unde-mi doresc.

I didn't sign up for this

Come to France. Start a new life. Give up 90% of your friends, because, after all, they're not really your friends, they're just acquaintances, but in everyday life, you don't wanna see that, of course. Someone said "we know a lot more people, but we know them a lot less well". I tend to agree. But anyway, back to the point.
Back to the point. Give up your (imaginary or real) girlfriend, give up hope of being with someone in the near future, don't look back, don't hold on to what's now considered as "the past", something you moved on/ran from. Come to a new country, learn the goddamn language (what, didn't you learn it in school already?), break the apparent shyness that's interpreted from your silence which comes up, of course, not because you're an idiot, or you don't have anything to say, but because you lack the means of expression.
Get heartbroken, either by someone new, or someone old, or both, the only difference being that back home, you could just not give a fuck, move along, share your thoughts with your best friend and after that..whatever. In here, it's not like that. In here it makes you wanna scream. It makes you boil inside, wanting all this to go to hell, go back home to your loved ones, family, friends, acquaintances, ex and future -girlfriends. But they're not the same either. It's all different now.
Welcome to your new life.

Poveste in 3 parti: -1-

I would have kissed her…over and over again…and she would’ve hugged me, over and over again..at least that’s what she said last time we spoke. It’s funny, Every time I’m talking to her on the phone, I feel like I’m there, right next to her and I could just..fly..no, we could just..fly, we could rule the world and not give a damn about..not giving a damn. And what a great feeling that is..you all know it. Or if you don’t, you should’ve, by now.

It’s quite tragic how things always seem to be so complicated with people and relationships..and when you think about all that “kindness within Man’s nature” that they keep telling you about, and you wake up being 15 or 16 and realizing that..it just isn’t there..or if it is, you can’t even see it. What’s that all about? Why should it be kept away from you? Who decides who deserves to be happy and who doesn’t? Don’t tell me God, we’re not here to talk about religion and belief.

So you’re at that critical age, right? And everybody seems to laugh at you, you feel cornered, either laughed at or ignored, either way, it’s unpleasant. And then, after a while, you find that special someone. You know he/she’s special, because he/she treats you like nobody else. There’s obviously something different about that person, something that you’d like to explore and expand. Something which you feel it gives you energy, life, makes you smile every time you think about that person, motivates you and so on. The sad part of things is that usually it’s just not that simple as we’d like it to be. There’s almost always a weird situation about you or that person, or you as a couple, which prevents things from going the way you’d like. “Isn’t that ironic?” You think to yourself. Well actually, it is, because it happens all the time to people who don’t really deserve this.

Searching for quality people can be quite a tricky business. You can practically figure out someone from the minute he/she opens his/her mouth. Superficiality – now that’s the first order of business nowadays. Why? I haven’t figured that one out yet..I don’t know..I guess people don’t want to commit themselves to anything serious these days…that’s why it is so hard to find good friends, real friends to stick by your side, who truly want you to give what’s best in you, who care for you and so on and so forth. People don’t get involved. I fucked up my mood 2 days before my birthday because of such people.

Because they are used to others being superficial, people don’t tend to appreciate when others are NOT, when they try to do something out of the ordinary, in a good way. I’ve tried filming some of my colleagues when they were delivering a presentation, I thought that would make a good “archive movie” by the end of the faculty (I’ve planned to make a little movie/clip at the end of the 2^nd or 3^rd year with pictures and frames taken during these years, so we would have something to remember other than just plain shots of ourselves). But nooo, negative comments started appearing from nowhere, like I was some kind of amateur who would only fuck things up instead of doing something nice for ’em. That’s not a solitary case. I’ve had this type of experiences during highschool. I know people who still have this type of experiences and guess what..they have the same amount of frustration just as me. And it’s perfectly normal. How could you not be frustrated when you can’t find serious, honest, “quality” people next to you. How much (and where) must you search to find these people? And it’s normal that at some point, you will get frustrated because your patience will run out. I feel like I’m running out of batteries. There are 3 persons which I regard with the highest amount of respect, 2 boys and a girl. That girl is far away. The other 2 are in the same city as me, but we don’t get to see each other very often. I know I must wait.. patience is a virtue.

I think you’re wondering by know, what does “X marks the spot” mean. Well, for one thing, I thought of making it a love story. Didn’t work out. Tried making it a diary. Not quite like I was hoping, so I’m not sure this will end up as being a diary. I’m not sure I have the energy or inspiration to create fictional characters and stories and in the end, why would I want to do such a thing when our own lives are stories that are worth telling, except the fact that people don’t want to listen these days. They talk, they hear you, but they ain’t listening. Why is that? – read the previous page. So what I think this would end up to be…a story of life and thoughts, set in the 21^st century, age span: after puberty, after being a teenager, starting from 18 years old and ending..I don’t know yet when. We shall see. I thought of this title as sort of a “Punctul pe i” because I think it encompasses aspects of life in general..love aspects, social aspects, school aspects, why not. It’s a lesson of life. My lesson of life.

Am citit “Invitatie la vals” in aproximativ 7 ore. Mi-a trimis-o M. de ziua mea. De ce? Pentru ca personajele principale sunt tot M. si Tudor (respectiv Aimée si Dor). A fost o surpriza foarte placuta, mai ales ca e prima fata de la care primesc o carte. Majoritatea cunoscutelor imi iau cosmetice. Asa o fi la moda, nu stiu. Am citit cartea pe tren, in drum spre South Park. In drum spre M. Am gasit o groaza de asemanari intre Tudor din carte si Tudor cititorul, fapt care m-a bucurat pe de-o parte si m-a speriat pe de alta, asta pentru ca pret de jumatate de carte, Tudor era un romantic incurabil, un indragostit lulea, aiurit si aburit, cu capul in nori, etc. Era exact cum ma pot vedea eu in contextul potrivit. Relatia dintre el si M. era..de vis.Din nou, ceva la care nutresc si eu. Dar, cealalta jumatate a cartii ne arata doi protagonisti total schimbati. Autorul ne prezinta gandurile sale intr-un contrast mai pronuntat fata de faptele sale, si asta pentru ca nu intotdeauna faci ce zici si zici ce gandesti (si de-aici un lant intreg), fapt care m-a cam pus pe ganduri, pentru ca am avut tendinta sa raportez cam tot ce facea/zicea/gandea Tudor cu tot ce fac/zic/gandesc eu. Si de-aici o gramada de intrebari si ganduri care mai de care mai alandala. Oare as fi si eu in stare de asta? Oare nu gandesc si eu asa? Oare as putea sa-i fac asta (in sens bun)? Dar asta (in sens rau)? Cat de urat s-a purtat acolo…Cred ca l-am iubit si urat pe Tudor in acelasi timp, pe tot parcursul romanului. Apoi pe M. am iubit-o si urat-o. Apoi pe amandoi, dar asta numai ca sa realizez in final ca asa suntem toti. Una zicem, alta facem. Bummer for everybody.

Adevarul e ca nu stiam la ce sa ma astept. Vorbim de 3 luni, as putea zice ca mi-am dat seama cam cum gandeste pe de-o parte, ce simte pe de alta, dar…cu totii suntem unici so..nu exista anticipare 100%, cel putin asta e parerea mea.

Am ajuns in South Park. A trecut o zi. S-a facut ora 11. Am ajuns in gara. Se ascundea. Mi-a sarit la gat. Ne-am imbratisat vreo 5 minute. A fost…de neuitat. Nu m-a mai intampinat nimeni asa de cand ma stiu. Adevarul e ca..nu cred sa mai fi fost cineva asa de fericit(a) sa ma vada. Probabil si de-aici reactia. Entuziasmul ei ma molipsise deja. Stiam ca am venit acolo incognito, fara sa stie ai ei. Sau fratele ei, care la momentul respectiv reprezenta cel mai mare pericol. Era o actiune “sub acoperire” si asta o facea cu atat mai palpitanta. Trebuia sa profitam din plin de tot timpul pe care-l aveam, si asa prea scurt pentru ce am fi vrut noi. Nu stiu daca am facut ce ne-am propus. Probabil ca nu, pentru ca as mai fi vrut sa stau cu ea, sa ma plimb cu ea, sa vorbesc cu ea, s-o mangai, s-o imbratisez, s-o sarut, sa ma joc cu mana ei, sa nu-i mai dau drumul. N-am putut sa le fac pe toate astea, sau nu atat cat mi-as fi dorit. Se pierdea in ochii mei, iar eu ma pierdeam in privirea ei care ma fixa ca pe… ceva superior, oricat de inferior sau cel mult egal ma simteam eu fata de ea. Nu in putine dati m-am jenat eu datorita privirii ei fascina(n)te, ochii aceia verzi..(va spun sincer, continuarea proverbiala “niciodata sa nu-i crezi” e una din marile tampenii pe care le-au inventat oamenii)..ah, fir-ar ea de circumstanta nepotrivnica, a 2-a oara cand ma ciocnesc de ea. Stiam ca trebuie sa profitam de timp, stiam ca nu e suficient, stiam ca vrem si vom vrea mai mult, stia ca va fi imposibil sa ne multumim cu atat la final, stiam ca…va urma chinul. Stiam inca de pe-atunci, dar la ce bun sa aduc vorba de asa ceva, numai ca sa stric un moment frumos? Neah.

Ne-am plimbat, ne-am pozat, ne-am imbratisat mult. Nu m-as mai fi dezlipit de tine. As fi vrut poate sa fii mai…temperamentala un pic, nu stiu daca asta-i cuvantul potrivit. Mai cu sangele fierbinte, poate. Sa conduci si tu dansul un pic, nu numai eu. Si cu toate astea, nu as putea sa-mi doresc mai mult decat sa fi avut mai mult timp alaturi de tine. Sa te iau de mana si sa te aduc aici la Brasov. Sau sa raman eu acolo, oricare din variante mi-era egala. E a 3-a sau a 4-a oara cand simt nevoia sa plang si parca n-am resursele necesare. Nu stiu ce ma impiedica. In cel mai bun/rau caz, va cadea o lacrima. Mai mult nu cred. N-am mai plans de foarte mult timp, nu stiu de ce. De fiecare data cand te imbratisam, parca te vroiam mai aproape, mai aproape, si mai aproape, desi realizam ca te strangeam destul de tare si mai mult probabil ca te-ar fi durut. As fi vrut sa te sarut mai mult. Mult mai mult. Cu ochii inchisi (sic!), pentru ca atunci tot ce-ti mai ramane sunt buzele..numai pe ele te mai bazezi. Ele iti descopera taramuri noi, ele exploreaza. Ochii nu mai vad nimic, iar ce-ti aud urechile nu prea te ajuta.Te-as fi sarutat non-stop si nu m-as mai fi saturat. Tin minte ca ti-am zis la un moment dat, si inca mai cred asta…pacat ca nu te pot imbratisa si privi in acelasi timp, tot timpul se face un compromis intre cele doua. Daca le-am putea face pe ambele, nu-i asa ca am fi fericiti? Stiu ca nu te-am lasat sa-mi zici ce-ti place la mine. Mi s-a parut ca gesturile tale ziceau totul..si nu era nevoie de amanunte, ci de..un tot pe care mi l-ai aratat din plin. Nu te-am lasat, ti-am luat palmele intr-ale mele si le-am pus pe obraji. M-a surprins ca (spre mirarea mea), dupa jumatate de ora de cand ne-am despartit, inca mai simteam mirosul tau pe palme. Din nou, m-am pus pe ganduri.

La intoarcere am tot incercat sa-mi iau gandul de la ce a fost. Stiam ca urmau crappy times si vroiam sa le evit pe cat posibil. Dar cum, cand doar nu trecuse jumatate de zi si eram in bratele tale. Ma gandeam la ce va urma, la cum imi era dor de tine, la cum imi va fi dor de tine, la cum va trece o gramada de timp pana la posibilitatea (nu neaparat probabilitatea) de a ne vedea, cum…da, ca si in vara trecuta, mi-am pus intrebarea…daca nu veneam, oare era mai bine? Am venit, ne-am vazut, ne-am placut, ne-am trait emotia pret de o zi si jumatate (cam 7 ore mai exact) ca apoi sa oftam amandoi jumatate de an. Oare a meritat? Adevarul e ca daca nu veneam acum, suspinam amandoi pana la vara si nu se stie daca ne vedeam nici atunci. Dar nu ne chinuiam in lunile care urmau. Care vor urma, pentru ca inca n-am ajuns acolo, dar eu stiu deja ca asa se va intampla. Ma voi uita la pozele cu tine cu orice ocazie, si voi ofta. Ce se va intampla mai departe, numai timpul va decide.

Am pastrat servetelele de la tine. O sa incerc sa le consum cat mai incet cu putinta. Aroma lor imi va aduce aminte de tine.

In orice caz, iti multumesc!

E prima dimineata “de dupa”. De dupa diminetile in care m-am trezit gandindu-ma ca o voi vedea. Dar de azi, gata..terminatu-s-a. As fi vrut sa ma trezesc langa ea si s-o sarut pe frunte, pe obraji, sa chicotim, sa ne jucam, sa ne batem cu perne. As fi vrut s-o imbratisez iar un sfert de ora fara intrerupere. Mi-ar fi placut..sa fie langa mine, dar nu se poate. Acum raman doar pozele si conversatiile. Ce frumos a fost! Mi-am aprins o tigara parca in ciuda. Mai am un pic si-mi dau plamanii afara. E tigara “saptamanala” mai nou..de cand am facut 20 de ani am zis ca nu mai fumez, am facut saptamana trecuta prostia sa-mi aprind o tigara tot din plictiseala/frustrare, si acum din nou. Viata de cacat.

De fiecare data cand ma uit la pozele cu Ea ma apuca o stare de…deja-vu. Ca si cum am senzatia ca am fost acolo, ca am fost langa ea, ca s-a intamplat ceea ce arata poza, dar parca e atat de departe incat nu-mi amintesc decat franturi. Mi-au dat lacrimile zilele astea mult mai des, si nu din cauza vantului de-afara. Chiar si acum… Mi-e dor sa plang in hohote, ca atunci cand eram copil. Sa ma descarc si apoi sa trag un somn de bebelus care sa faca sa treaca ziua cu pricina, sa ma trezesc a doua zi cu zambetul pana la urechi ca si cum nimic nu s-ar fi intamplat. La ce bun o lacrima-doua, daca tot nu te ajuta sa te simti mai bine?

Am (re?)vazut “Stay”, la recomandarea ei. Uneori prea ma asociez cu personajele din film, ma pun in pielea lor si parca simt si traiesc ca si ele. Partea proasta – in filmul asta pustiu’ urma sa se sinucida. Sau asta ne lasa impresia in film, pentru o buna bucata de vreme. Am fumat 4 tigari si m-a luat ameteala. Nu stiu de ce-am facut-o. Sa-mi “inec amarul” in tutun, oare? Ce aiurea suna. N-am energie nici sa scriu. Trebuie s-o las mai moale cu filmele. Sau cu tutunul. Sau cu dragostea. E atat de usor sa-ti distrugi ziua, seara, noaptea, viata. Si la indemana oricui. Dar sa ti-o cladesti cum trebuie, eh, asta e mai greu. Probabil daca ai fi langa mine: a)mi-ai turna ceva cu apa rece in cap; b)mi-ai trage o palma si mi-ai zice “Revino-ti!”; c)m-ai imbratisa si mi-ai zice ca totul e ok; d)mai multe variante de mai sus, sau toate combinate. Din nou, daca-mi miros palmele parca ti le simt pe-ale tale. Trebuie sa dorm. Am I losing it? God, I miss you!

Puteam sa jur ca se va intampla ceva…toata ziua am avut o senzatie in mine, o teama..imi rasuna in cap o voce zicandu-mi “sa nu te pierd, nu vreau sa te pierd”..si de-aici teama exteriorizata, discutia si… concluzia. Nu ma asteptam sa se adevereasca teama, dar uite ca lucrurile nu merg cum ne propunem noi, sau cel putin nu intotdeauna. Cred ca dintotdeauna, sau cel putin de cand m-am atasat de tine, am avut teama ca o sa fii “fata din South Park cu care nu s-a putut ajunge nicaieri concret”… as (fi) da(t) orice ca sa nu se ajunga acolo, dar uite ca faci tu primul pas. De ce a trebuit sa faci tu primul pas? De ce a trebuit sa renunti la lupta atat de devreme? Zici ca nu mai ai alte “preocupari” si ca nu ti-ar fi greu sa astepti, apoi ca poate, s-ar putea sa,..dar ca totusi…cine stie…God, I hate it when shiznit like this happens. And the fudged up thing is that it happens all the time, to me at least…. Ca in final sa zici ca totusi vrei sa astepti, sa vedem ce se intampla, cand eu deja am adanc infipta in mine povestea din seara asta…initiativa ta..si probabil inca o voi mai avea ceva timp de-acum incolo…Oare stii ca in fiecare film care are catusi de putin o poveste de dragoste in el, ne vad pe noi in locul personajelor? In absolut orice film cu happy ending ma bucur ca fac aceasta asociere, pentru ca-mi da putere sa cred ca toate povestile se incheie cu bine, si judec aspru filmele care se termina urat din exact acelasi motiv? (bridge to terabithia). Si cand mi-am auzit colegul zicand ca el si prietena lui s-au asteptat 1 an, dupa ce avusesera o perioada la activ, si cand s-a intors ea in tara au revenit lucrurile la normal, daca nu chiar mai bine…o astfel de poveste imi da putere, intelegi? Am simtit ca am luat un energizant cand mi-a povestit omul ala asa ceva…